"We can see if they're as rigged as the carnivals back in Paris?" d'Artagnan suggested, offering Constance that same puppyish smile. Stacks of milk cartons that not even Porthos could upend and shooting games that would have confounded even Aramis.

It sounded delightful.

"I suppose, in modern terms, this would be a date," d'Artagnan observed, walking Constance into the direction she'd suggested, chasing after all the wonderful bright lights and the scent of food.