He had no sooner uttered it than he shut the door sharply.

The third was from fright; it came from Planchet.
"I ask your pardon!" added he; "madame is dressing." Raoul had, no doubt, seen that what Planchet said was true, for he turned round to go downstairs again.
"Madame--" said Athos.

"Oh! pardon me, Planchet, I did not know that you had upstairs--" "It is Truchen," added Planchet, blushing a little.
"It is whoever you please, my good Planchet; but pardon my rudeness." "No, no; go up now, gentlemen." "We will do no such thing," said Athos.
"Oh! madame, having notice, has had time--" "No, Planchet; farewell!" "Eh, gentlemen! you would not disoblige me by thus standing on the staircase, or by going away without having sat down." "If we had known you had a lady upstairs," replied Athos, with his customary coolness, "we would have asked permission to pay our respects to her." Planchet was so disconcerted by this little extravagance, that he forced the passage, and himself opened the door to admit the comte and his son.
Truchen was quite dressed: in the costume of the shopkeeper's wife, rich yet coquettish; German eyes attacking French eyes.

She left the apartment after two courtesies, and went down into the shop--but not without having listened at the door, to know what Planchet's gentlemen visitors would say of her.

Athos suspected that, and therefore turned the conversation accordingly.