"The same thing," I fancy I hear her answer.

But no.

I have never loved a woman, my dear, in all my life before, and as I made no secret of it, I am guiltless of anything like betrayal.

In due season I will tell you frankly of the new love; but how can I tell you now?
How could I tell any human being?
I imagine myself as Panurge, taking counsel with a Pantagruelian friend.
"I am in love with Carlotta and desire to marry her." "Then marry her," says Pantagruel.

"But she does not love me." "Then don't marry," says Pantagruel.