“No, not visits.
Visits are not frequent at the Bastile.”
“What, are visits rare, then?”
“Very much so.”
“Even on the part of your society?”
“What do you term my society — the prisoners?”
“Oh, no! — your prisoners, indeed! I know well it is you who visit them, and not they you. By your society, I mean, my dear Baisemeaux, the society of which you are a member.”
Baisemeaux looked fixedly at Aramis, and then, as if the idea which had flashed across his mind were impossible, “Oh,” he said, “I have very little society at present. If I must own it to you, dear M. d’Herblay,