extract of «
— How old are you Monsieur Trémaine ?
— Thirty-six years ! Why that question ?
— You except me to believe that that for so many
years you have never told a woman that you love
Never, even if that seems strange to you !
Except... once !
That is sufficient while never would be too much
C'est suffisant pour que jamais soit de trop.
You believe that ? I was seven years old and the
object of my love was four...
Maybe you still love ?
One loves always what is attached to the
souvenirs of childhood because they are pretty,
but that little girl belongs to a time which is
no more and will never return...