Françoise. The idea! I am morally certain that you love no one except your wife.
Marcel [sadly]. It's true, I love no one except my wife.
Françoise [chaffing him in turn]. Poor Marcel!
Marcel. I was bored to death at that supper; I can't imagine why.—They all tell me I'm getting stout.
Françoise. That's no reason why you shouldn't please.
Marcel. God is very unjust.
Françoise. So they say!
Marcel [stretching out on a sofa]. Excuse my appearance, won't you, Françoise? [Making himself comfortable.] I can't keep my eyes open any longer nowadays. The days of my youth—Why, I was—[He stops.]
Françoise. You were just the right age for marriage.
Marcel [as if to banish the idea]. Oh! [A pause.] I'm sure you will get along well with Guérin. Yours are kindred spirits—you're alike—not in looks, however.