Such a good husband, two children . . . she moves in a decent circle, always poses as a saint—and all at once, would you believe it. . . . Only, hubby, of course this is entre nous. . . . Give me your word of honour you won’t tell a soul?”
Anton Chekhov. The Schoolmaster and other stories
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The whole pill-spiel (a rather sordid affair, entre nous soit dit*)
Vladimir Nabokov. Lolita
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The little ferret-faced youth in the corner was Regie Colby, who wrote the Entre-Nous paragraphs in the Social Searchlight: the women were charming to him and he got all the financial tips he wanted from their husbands and fathers.
Edith Wharton. The Greater Inclination
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both instinctively exchanged meaning glances, in a religious silence of the strictly entre nous variety however,