"He knows, he knows! When a man travels so much, he can easily forget. It's after eight o'clock, and you see he doesn't come."
"Eight o'clock isn't late. Never fear; he'll come."
"You think so?"
"Oh! I am sure of it."
"You are quite sure that he still loves me?"
"If he doesn't, why should he have told me that he did?"
"Oh! my dear, men say so many things that they don't think!"
"I can't understand how anyone can lie about love."
"Ah! you make me laugh; love's just the thing they lie most about.—There's the bell. This time it must be he."
Fanny's expectation was deceived once more; Monsieur Batonnin appeared, with his inevitable smile, and his measured words.