"How can that be?"

"Because fine things never reach the expected point."

"This is infallible, Planchet, and the proof is that I
undertake it. It will be for you a tolerably pretty gain,
and for me a very interesting stroke. It will be said, `Such
was the old age of M. d'Artagnan,' and I shall hold a place
in tales and even in history itself, Planchet. I am greedy
of honor."

"Monsieur," cried Planchet, "when I think that it is here,
in my home, in the midst of my sugar, my prunes, and my
cinnamon, that this gigantic project is ripened, my shop
seems a palace to me."

"Beware, beware, Planchet! If the least report of this
escapes, there is the Bastile for both of us. Beware, my
friend, for this is a plot we are hatching. M. Monk is the
ally of M. Mazarin -- beware!"

"Monsieur, when a man has had the honor to belong to you, he
knows nothing of fear; and when he has the advantage of
being bound up in interests with you, he holds his tongue."

"Very well, that is more your affair than mine, seeing that
in a week I shall be in England."

"Depart, monsieur, depart -- the sooner the better."