Part, Chapter

1         I,I  |        she added. "Besides, he loves~me too well for that. Didn'
2         I,I  | petticoat that he bores me. He loves me better than~his own eyes;
3         I,I  |     your uncle Pillerault, who loves~us like the apple of his
4         I,VI |        don't forget him. Finot loves~the pomps and the vanities;
5         I,VII|     incomparable delicacy. The Loves hover in the air and waft
6         I,I  |      one,--~not to Popinot who loves us, nor to your uncle Pillerault.
7         I,III|      have desired~her; but she loves me! Well, now, du Tillet,
8         I,III|      life is to be loved as he loves you. He has thought~only
9         I,V  |     and think of me~as one who loves you tenderly.~ ~Our excellent