Françoise. I know it.
Marcel [bursting forth]. Oh! Good! You haven't always been so frightfully profound.
Françoise. Yes, I have, and your irony only proves that I have not been so much mistaken in what I felt by intuition.
Marcel. Ah, marriage.
Françoise. Ah, duty!
Marcel. I love Madame Guérin, don't I?
Françoise. I don't say that.
Marcel. You think it.
Françoise. And if I do? Would it be a crime to think it? You once loved her—perhaps you have seen her again, recently? Do I know where you go? You never tell me.
Marcel. I tell you too much!