"Ah, bah!" said d'Artagnan; "you have at some wicket of the Louvre a CONCIERGE who is devoted to you, and who, thanks to a password, would—"
Mme. Bonacieux looked earnestly at the young man.
"And if I give you this password," said she, "would you forget it as soon as you used it?"
"By my honor, by the faith of a gentleman!" said d'Artagnan, with an accent so truthful that no one could mistake it.
"Then I believe you. You appear to be a brave young man; besides, your fortune may perhaps be the result of your devotedness."