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Athos, Porthos, and Aramis are leaning in various attitudes of idleness against the wainscotting. They are waiting. Aramis looks serene. He holds a small book of psalms open in one hand, and he is studying a loose scrap of paper between the pages, doubtless some notes he has made on a theological matter. Athos is cultivating an air of bemused boredom. He may be slightly drunk, or else he may only be faking. Only Porthos makes no attempt to assume an appearance other than that of impatience.