MUSIC: La Route Est Dure
by Georgia Brown
♪ La route est dure
La vie est morne
♪ Mon ame est sure d'aucune borne
♪ Que dois-je faire avec ma vie
♪ Quand toute la terre s'est
endurcie? ♪
Did you forget I was calling? No.
Liar.
Oh, honestly, I hadn't,
I just had a...
..rather thick night of it last
night.
Boozing at one of the nightclubs
among the rich and the lost.
Precisely.
Coffee?
I don't need it.
What have you done to your hand?
MUTTERS: Oh, this, er, some...
Accident.
I was using a carving Kn*fe.
My hand was trembling...
HE MUMBLES
You've got to pull yourself
together, man.
You're falling to bits.
Yeah, perhaps you're right.
Well, soon, you'll be no bloody use
to anyone.
You think you could lick me into
shape? You'd have to be licke
We've got no time for personal
indulgence.
Either you change or you'll be out.
Right, are you joining the party?
Look, Mathieu,
I haven't got the time to waste.
You have thought about it?
Yeah, I've thought about it.
Well, then.
He's waiting. I must give him an
answer. Yes or no.
He's offering me the very best
he knows of life.
Brunet? Yes.
You're a born communist.
Born? I chose.
Yeah, you found no difficulty
in choosing.
Meaning that you have.
I realise that by becoming
a communist,
I should know how to act, how to
believe,
inject a meaning into life. Right.
Nothing could rob my life
of meaning. Nothing.
Whatever happens, my destiny
is certain.
Secure.
Communism as the final religion
would mean...
..for me, salvation, but...
But you refuse.
At the moment, I refuse. Yeah.
Perhaps later on...
Later on?
Mathieu, if you're waiting for some
inner inspiration,
you'll wait a bloody long time.
Do you think I was convinced
when I joined the CP?
Conviction has got to be created.
Yeah, I know. "Kneel, have faith
and belief will be given unto you."
Well, I need belief to start with.
Oh, Mathieu.
You're all the same, you bloody
intellectuals. How do you...?
The world is falling apart
around your ears
and you sit there, calmly
claiming your right to be convinced.
Well, time is running out,
my friend.
Did you mean it when you said
we'd be at w*r in September?
I wouldn't have said it
if I didn't mean it.
So the party is preparing?
We're all preparing.
Daladier's preparing the
Maginot Line.
Chamberlain is preparing a
revision of frontiers.
And h*tler's preparing for w*r.
There's going to be a lot of deaths.
Comrades die cheerfully,
knowing that their deaths are of
value.
Yes, I agree with you.
No-one can be a man who hasn't
discovered...
..something he's prepared to die
for.
Well, then.
I can't commit myself.
I haven't sufficient reasons.
Oh, really.
I'm angry, like you.
Against the same people,
against the same things.
But I'm not angry enough!
I...I can't help it.
I could join the march, shove my
fist in the air
and sing The Internationale...
..but I'd be acting,
I'd be playing a part.
You understand me, Brunet?
Not really.
But you don't have to justify
yourself.
No-one is accusing you.
Thanks for the offer.
The loss is mine.
That's that, then. You're not going?
I'm sorry, Mathieu. I'm already
late for my next appointment.
You must be furious with me. No.
You're not forced to think as I do.
That's not true.
According to your creed, a man
is forced to think as you do.
But you think I'm a hopeless
case, don't you?
Not hopeless, no.
But I haven't got the time.
The plain fact is, Mathieu,
you're not as...
..detached from your class as
I thought you were.
Brunet? Yes?
You used to be my best friend.
Why do you think I came?
You saw me looking washed out,
you thought you could help.
If you'd accepted my offer,
we could have worked together.
You think we no longer have anything
in common?
I mustn't keep you.
Do come and see me again,
if you have time.
Agreed.
And should you change your mind,
let me know.
Agreed.
He was my best friend.
Now we have nothing in common.
Nothing.
He's free, that's why.
I chase after freedom,
but he has real freedom.
He's in harmony with himself.
He renounced his freedom,
joined the party,
only to find a greater freedom.
Everything is more actual
for him, more intense.
Mine...
..is a woolly, shuffling bloody
world.
Out there, they're f*ring
point-blank at each other
in the suburbs of Madrid.
There are Jews being tortured
in concentration camps.
There are Chinese children lying
buried in the ruins of Nanking.
Brunet can reach across the Earth.
He can suffer and struggle with
them.
That's freedom.
What do I feel?
They're merely data, abstractions.
And yet I agonise to suffer with
them.
But it's no good telling myself I
can when I can't, is it?
If you lie to yourself,
you know you're lying.
That's your trouble.
Oh, my tiny, tiny life.
Look at the way I really
join people in suffering.
I've got Marcelle pregnant.
All I can do is think of ways of
raising money for a decent abortion,
so that the problem is clinically
obliterated.
And look at this, then.
A stupid girl stabs her hand out of
exhibitionism
and you do the same,
hoping she'll invite you to bed.
That's how far you join
people in suffering.
You're a decadent wash-out
and you know it.
Oh, God, I'm supposed to see her at
ten.
Yes! That's your level
of commitment as well.
Keeping appointments with a
crazy girl student.
And you mustn't let her down.
Oh, no, let down Brunet, by
all means,
but not her.
You're a thoroughly useless
intellectual mess, aren't you?
Ivich?
Did you sleep?
Hardly.
How are you keeping, monsieur?
So-so. Um...
We'll have some tea and, er, a
couple of apples. Monsieur.fo
You look a bit depressed. The exams?
The results are out at two o'clock.
Four hours to go. Four hours, yes.
Do you think I could get a job
in a shop, behind a counter?
Not you, Ivich. It'd k*ll you.
What about a job as a mannequin?
Well, you're not really the right
shape, but we can try.
Well, I'd do anything not to go
back home.
I'd wash dishes, I...I'd do
anything.
Well, the results aren't out yet.
Look, say you've failed.
It's...it's not the end.
You go back home for a couple of
months, I'll look around, find you
something interesting. You don't
know what you're talking abo
Monsieur. Thank you.
You didn't put your hair up.
You can see I didn't.
Last night you promised me you
would. Oh, all right, so what?
People make promises, don't they?
Yeah, she's right.
People make promises.
I've promised Marcelle I'll get
, francs for the abortion.
That's what I should be doing now,
raising the money.
Oh, God, my life's in an absolute
bloody shambles.
There's Boris.
Did you tell him to come?
Certainly not. What's the matter
with him?
Hello, Boris. What's the matter?
You look like Frankenstein.
Lola's dead.
What?
Lola's dead. k*lled herself?
Here, sit down.
Tell me, has she k*lled herself?
She's k*lled herself, hasn't she?
You insensitive bitch.
BORIS LAUGHS
And for monsieur? Brandy.
Quick, my friend's in a hurry.
Oh, God, it's a mess.
Poor Boris, poor little Boris.
I'm glad I found you.
What happened? Tell me.
Well, she'd been drugging
herself all night...
We had a row.
Then before she went to bed,
she must have taken a really big
dose.
This morning, she was lying there...
..stiff, with her eyes open.
Her eyes...
Oh, Boris. Monsieur.
Drink this.
Well, I picked up my clothes
and got dressed.
I thought it best not to be found
there... Oh, nobody saw me leave.
I came here.
Are you grieved about it?
Look at me. Are you grieved?
Well, I...
Oh, it's all so repulsive.
I'd like another brandy.
In a hurry again, monsieur?
Just bring it.
She all alone there?
Well, I should think she'll be
found about ,
the maid usually wakes her about
then.
Christ! What is it? My letters.
My letters, I've left them there.
Letters to her? Yes.[
Well, they'll know she d*ed of
dr*gs.
You mention dr*gs in the letters?
Well, yes.
Do you take dr*gs yourself?
Well, I have done, once or twice,
yes.
Just for curiosity, that's all.
I see.
Monsieur.
Well?
Well, I mentioned the chap that
I got them from.
In a letter?! You're mad!
Yes, I know it's stupid.
You say the maid comes at ? Yes.
It's half past ten, you've got time
to go back quietly and fetch them.
No, I can't go back. Can't?
You mean you don't feel up to it.
No, I can't.
HE SNIFFLES
Where are the letters?
They're in a small black trunk
under the window.
There's a whole pile of letters
and then mine are tied
with a yellow ribbon.
You'll also find some money
in small notes.
Small notes? Yes...
The lad's not stupid.
The trunk, is it locked?
The key's in Lola's
bag on the bedside table.
There's a whole bunch of keys
and then a small flat one by itself.
That's it. What's the room number?
It's . Third floor, second on the
left.
The key of the room? It's in the
door,
where she left it last night.
I thought it best not to touch it.
All right, I'll go.
Oh, Mathieu, if anyone should stop
you,
tell them you've come to see
Bolivar.
You know the n*gro
from the Kamchatka Club?
Well, he's on the same floor.
Mathieu, you're a good chap.
You'll both wait for me here?
Yes, we'll wait.
If only they could display
some spark of grief.
I'll be straight back.
Wait.
Suppose there's somebody inside.
SPLASHING UPSTAIRS
RECEDING FOOTSTEPS
DOOR CLOSES
Lola?
Lola?
Here they are.
, -franc notes.
I've got the money.
We're all right now.
We're all right.
It's no good.
You've too delicate a conscience
to steal. Too scrupulous.
Oh, yes, you can stick a
dagger through your hand
to impress your dark, fateful
personality upon young ladies,
but not take money that nobody needs
except a woman you got pregnant.
All right, then.
If you can't steal the money,
you'll marry her.
That's all you're good for.
Marry her!
Ooh!
No...
No.
SHE MOANS
God, that little fool.
It's Mathieu.
What time is it?
Um...
Quarter to .
SHE GROANS
I've got a headache.
Where's Boris?
What are you doing here?
You've been ill.
Have I?
You were...stiff.
Your eyes, open.
Boris tried to wake you.
He couldn't. He got frightened.
He thought I was dead.
That's it, isn't it?
He thought I was dead.
He was frightened.
SHE CHUCKLES
I look like a corpse.
I feel like one, too.
You feel ill? It'll pass.
Would you like me to get you
anything? Can I fetch a doctor? No
Relax.
So, Boris sent you?
Yes. Yes, he was beside himself.
Is he downstairs?
No. Um...
I was at the Deux Magots.
He came looking for me.
I jumped in a taxi before he
could... Thanks for your concern.[
Our little angel got the wind up.
Took one look at me and fled.
Oh, Lola...
Don't make excuses for him.
I know him.
Tell him not to be upset.
I get these att*ck sometimes,
he knows about them.
It's my heart. Goes a bit wonky.
Tell him I want him here.
I'll be here all day till I go
to work, waiting for him.
I'll tell him.
Bye, Lola.
Mathieu?
Yes?
Promise me you'll make him come?
I can't bear the thought
he thinks I'm dead.
I'll send him to you.
DOOR CLOSES
It wasn't too difficult, then?
Not difficult at all.
Except for one thing.
Lola isn't dead.
What do you mean, she isn't dead?
Good God.
He's become accustomed to it.
What was wrong with her?
A coma.
But how did you get the letters?
I took them while she was
still unconscious.
Well! She says it happens
quite often
when she's been taking the stuff.
She says you know all about it.
She must have been amazed
to see you in her room.
Not really, no.
I told her Boris had taken fright
and come running to me for help.
You better remember that when
you see her.
Do you think you'll have any
difficulty getting the letters back?
Without her knowing?
I can't bear it! I keep seeing her
as dead.
She wants you to go and see her
at once. Really, I could have
Well, she isn't. Now, take a taxi.
Go and see her.
Don't you understand? The woman's
in distress!
No!
I shan't go. She revolts me.
Why?
Because you thought she was dead?
Now, look here. Boris,
this is becoming ridiculous.
You made a mistake or...
I think Boris is right.
I, in his place, would do just the
same.
Don't you understand
this really will be the end of her?
If he goes back to her,
it would be simply out of pity.
You can't ask him to do it.
It would be repugnant. Even to her.
See her first,
then decide what your reactions are.
There are things that you just don't
grasp.
For me, she is dead.
That's stupid!
Look, Mathieu, I didn't
want to spell it out,
but if I have to see her again,
I shall have to touch her.
And that's what I can't do.
Yes, well, that reaction will soon
disappear.
Now, you promise me,
you go and see her,
tomorrow or the day after.
Yes. Yes, perhaps you're right.
I will, I'll...I'll see her
tomorrow.
I'll phone her. What's her number?
Trudaine .
"Trudaine ."
Um...when the results come out
at two o'clock,
would you like me to go and look at
them for you?
No, thanks. Boris will go.
When shall I see you again?
I don't know.
Well, let me know if you've passed
as soon as possible, won't you?
Yes. Don't forget.
Bye.
Bye. Bye.
They're afraid of death.
They might be young and fresh,
but there's something
sinister about their little souls,
because they're afraid of death!
Of illness, of old age.
They cling desperately to their
youth, like a dying man to life.
Will you get me Trudaine ?
Both lines are engaged.
Will you wait?
Yes.
I'm putting you through now, sir.
How many times have I seen Ivich
make up her face at a mirror?
She shudders at the thought of
wrinkles.
They brood on their youth,
as if they were going to die
in two or three years.
Perhaps the only way of preserving
one's youth is to forget it.
It's not so much fear of age
that makes me fool about with
those young people upstairs.
It's to escape being what I really
am.
I do it in other ways.
I write in left-wing reviews.
But the fact is, I'm a bourgeois.
This morning proves it.
I couldn't take the money
because of middle-class taboos.
I don't face up to myself.
OPERATOR: ..Trudaine ?
Until a man faces up to himself...
..freedom is a mere running away.
A myth.
Your number, sir. First box.
Thank you.
Trudaine ? Who is it?
Is that the maid? It is.
Oh, this is Mathieu Delarue.
Could I speak to Madame Montero?
Madame...is not feeling very well
at the moment.
Can I take a message for her?
Oh, yes, yes.
Please don't disturb her.
I'm speaking on behalf of Monsieur
Boris.
Monsieur Boris, yes?
Would you tell madame that Boris
can't come?
He can't come?
I see. That's all. Thank you.
Thank you, madame.
Thank you, monsieur.
Daniel's coming to see me at .
What the hell does he want?
He won't lend me the money.
That's sure.
Money. Money!
I've just time to see Sarah.
Ask her if the doctor will give me
credit.
Very haughty, I must say. Hm?
He's got it in for me, you know.
He thinks I'm not moral.
Who cares about morality?
Oh, he does.
I wonder if he took the money.
You haven't got it?
No, but I'll have it at the end
of the month, when I get paid.
But he'll have left for America.
All right, I'll send the money
on to America!
Well, I can ask him.
It won't be easy.
But you'll ask him?
He's pretty tight-fisted.
Besides, he's going through a phase
of hyper-Zionism at the moment.
He detests everybody who's not
Jewish.
But you'll try?
I'll try.
HE SIGHS
Thank you.
What's wrong with your hand?
What? Oh, it's nothing,
just...accident.
I saw Brunet this morning. Oh?
He wanted me to join the party.
I turned him down.
When you see him next,
tell him I wouldn't want to
destroy our friendship.
It won't do that.
He wants to help you,
the same as all of us.
HE SCOFFS
Yes.
Do sit down.
No. Sarah, I'm sorry,
I have to be off.
Daniel is calling on me at .
Just sit down for a moment.
Uh...
Well.
Why go on with this business
of abortion?
Why not have the child?
Marry Marcelle?
Why not?
Sarah... Yes?
Sarah, I...I can talk to you in a
way I can't talk to anyone else.
When I say I want to remain free,
it's not because I want
to be a gay bachelor.
I don't think I could be a gay
anything. It's not in me.
Freedom, for me...
..is my own secret garden.
It's a little scheme I have,
with myself as the sole accomplice.
As a child, I decided to hoard
freedom,
as other children hoard postage
stamps.
In fact, I...I think I know when it
started.
I was seven years old.
Seven?! Mm.
I was staying with my Uncle Jules,
the dentist.
It was a hot summer afternoon.
I was in the waiting room.
And I was...playing at being dead.
Closing my eyes and trying
to empty my head of thought.
It's a common game with children
once they start fearing death.
Yes, Pablo still does it.
Yeah. That's it.
On the table...
..there were some tattered
magazines,
and in the centre, there was
this large Chinese vase.
Had handles on it like parrots'
claws.
Uncle Jules had told me it was ,
years old. Oh!
I believed him.
I remember studying it.
Afraid of something that old.
Its very...
..impassivity worried me.
I...I turned my back on it.
I wandered over to a mirror,
and I pulled faces at myself.
You know, stretched my mouth with my
fingers
and pushed up my nostrils.
All the ugly faces possible,
in an attempt to...
..forget that vase.
And I couldn't.
Suddenly, I turned round,
I went back to the table.
I picked up the vase.
It was very heavy.
And I smashed it on the floor.
You did that? Yes, I did that.
At that moment, Sarah, I felt...
..so proud...
..freed from the world,
freed from history,
without...origins,
without roots, only me.
I could feel my own...
..stubborn authenticity, bursting
through time and circumstance.
That was my first taste of freedom.
The savour of it still haunts me.
Those were the feelings of a child.
All right.
Here's another occasion.
I was .
I was in my room reading Spinoza.
It was Mardi Gras.
All my fellow students were outside
in fancy dress on cars,
having a high old time of it.
The laughter of girls and music
flooded my room.
But I still went on studying.
That shows you what a dull dog I am.
And when the screams and the frenzy
were at their height...
..I gave myself a spiritual
exercise.
And I sound silly, I know,
but I repeated to myself times,
"I am my own destiny.
"I am my own salvation."
I made a bet with myself
that no-one would show me
the way of living or dying.
Only me.
That's why I can no more go
in for marriage, Sarah,
than I can think of joining
Brunet's Communist Party.
Mathieu...
What?
Oh, it doesn't matter.
No, say it, please.
What I was going to say will be
hard.
Let it be.
You're not free, Mathieu.
In order to have a fairly
comfortable life,
you've already sacrificed your
freedom.
You think so?
I don't want to hurt you.
Oh, you go on. Hurt me. Hurt me!
That's what I ask of you.
All right, but just remember
that I'm a Jewess and I'm a woman.
Just say what's on your mind.
Well, a long time ago, you decided
to become a teacher of philosophy.
You receive for it a regular
monthly salary.
Well?
It's a secure, bourgeois life.
But all the same, you've put
no money by.
Well, my people, on the whole, do
not have your level of security,
but nonetheless, they save.
They save for the future
and for the children.
You want to be both bohemian
and bourgeois.
You want everything both
ways, Mathieu.
You think...you...
You think I'm all stirred
up about freedom...
..because I've got Marcelle pregnant
and I'm in all this...
..long-winded mental torment
simply because I can't raise
the money for an abortion?
You asked me to hurt you.
Yeah.
I appreciate what you're doing.
Do you mind if I'm equally harsh
and talk about your husband?
Please do.
Well, one day...
..he left all these paintings, and
he said...
.."I'll paint no more."
And without even telling you,
he went off to fight in Spain.
Agreed. Well, I can't act as
spontaneously as that.
You can call it a flaw in me,
if you like.
I must have reasons for my actions.
STAMMERS: I've got into the job I'm
doing,
I've become a potential father,
simply because I haven't had
sufficient reasons to do otherwise.
You give me reasons I can believe
in, and I'll marry Marcelle.
Or k*ll Franco, or...
..just go on being an agonised
schoolteacher.
You give me reasons
and let me decide, not others.
Well?
I'll do all I can to procure
the abortion for you.
You'd give me up.
That's what you want, isn't it?
I've got francs to finish
the week.
We'll share it.
No, thanks. It's nice of you to
offer, though.
I've got some sherry. Fine.
I had Brunet come to see me
this morning.
Indeed?
I think it's all over between us
this time. You quarrelled?f
Oh, worse than that. Aw...
Oh, come off it.
You don't give a damn about Brunet.
I respect him, of course,
but if it was left to me,
I'd have him stuffed and exhibited
in the History Museum.
th-century section.
Your health.
Mm!
Your sherry is excellent. Good.
One seldom comes across a decent
sherry nowadays.
This w*r in Spain, you know.
Yes.
Look, Mathieu,
I've got a bit of a confession
to make to you.
Oh?
I'm not quite sure how you're going
to take it. I...I should be deeply
distressed if anything were to
upset our friendship.
Er... What is it?
Well...
..guess whom I saw yesterday
evening.
Whom you saw?
How should I know?
Marcelle.
Marcelle! Did you indeed?
You're lucky to come across her,
she doesn't go out all that often.
I saw her at her home.
We see each other now and then.
See each other?
Where?
I've just told you, at her home.
You call on her?
Well, I've always had a deep
regard for Marcelle.
I admire her courage and her
generosity.
One day, I was at a bit of a loose
end
and I happened to be passing her
way.
I had a sudden impulse to ring her
bell.
She received me.
Kindly.
Since then, we've gone on seeing
each other.
Our only misdemeanour is in not
telling you about it.
Daniel visiting Marcelle?
It doesn't make sense.
They've nothing in common.
You're joking with me.
Joking? Mm.
Mathieu, grant me this.
I have never joked, nor made
any kind of light remark
concerning your special
relationship with Marcelle.
It is too precious for that.
Yeah, I dare say.
But you're joking with me.
Very well, we'll say no more about
it. No, go on!
I always thought you'd make
a good actor.
Well, you're not making it too easy
for me.
I'd rather you relied on my word.
But since you want proof...
Look at the money he's got,
the bastard.
Look.
"As you aren't free tomorrow,
can you make Saturday?
"Mama says she is going to scold
you seriously about the chocolates.
"Come soon, my dear...Archangel,
"we await your visitation
with impatience.
"Marcelle."
S...so it's true?
Yes.
I was rather afraid you might be
angry.
That's...true!
I should be angry, shouldn't I?
Perhaps I shall be.
At the moment, I feel...
..just...stunned.
Do you see her often?
About twice a month.
What on earth do you find to talk
about? Perhaps you'd like to
some topics of conversation.
Oh, no, don't lose your temper.
It's just a bit unexpected.
MATHIEU MUTTERS
Seems rather...rather amusing.
Who, er...who decided not to tell
me about it? You or Marcelle?
I did. I thought that if you knew
about our relationship,
you might be rather patronising.
You asked her to keep it secret?
Yes. And she agreed?
Well, she didn't refuse.
You see, she rather likes to think
that I am a man of mystery.
At first she called me Lohengrin.
Latterly, as you observe, her choice
has been the Archangel.
Yes.
He's making fun of her.
I feel ashamed for her sake.
We used to tell each other
everything.
You imagined you did.
Can people tell each other
everything?
Marcelle is a little more
complicated than you believe.
MATHIEU SIGHS
Why did she do it?
I've just told you!
Because I asked her to. No.
No, there's more to it than that.
Well, I imagine that living
within your orbit
can be rather harsh and dazzling.
Perhaps she wanted a little
secret refuge somewhere.
She found me too demanding?!
Well, she hasn't exactly
put it into words,
but that is what I gather.
She didn't tell you about my visits
because she thought that you would
start analysing her motives,
dissecting her emotions,
and then handing my friendship
with her back to her,
only in small pieces.
Some friendships need to be kept
in the half-light, you know.
They defy definition.
She's told you that?
What she's said is this.
"What I like about you, Daniel,
"is that I don't in the least know
where I'm going.
"With Mathieu, I always know."
"With Mathieu, I always know."
Ivich says the same.
"With you, one never
has to fear the unexpected."
Look, if these were her feelings,
why has she never told me about it?
She says it's because you have
never asked her.
Well, why are you telling me?
Surely it would've been more natural
for Marcelle to mention it first?
Well, I may be mistaken,
but I thought by my coming to see
you
that I'd be acting in the
best interests of you both.
There's something behind all this.
Look out. Here it comes.
I'm going to tell you the truth.
Marcelle doesn't know
that I've come to see you.
In fact, only last night,
she couldn't make up her mind
whether to tell you herself or not.
Tell me what?
We'll be coming to that,
but first, I want you to assure me
that anything that we discuss here,
you'll not report it to Marcelle.
How satanic can you get?
Last night, you were conspiring
with Marcelle against me.
And now you're asking me to enter
a conspiracy against Marcelle.
You're a right dab hand at
treachery, aren't you?
Now, just listen.
You'll find nothing treacherous.
I've come here out of a genuine
feeling of anxiety
for the pair of you.
It seems that you and Marcelle
are involved
in a serious misunderstanding.
Naturally, Marcelle is too proud
to mention it to you herself.
It's to do with...
..your predicament.
You told her you knew?
Certainly not.
It was she who mentioned it first.
She did?
The world's a bloody comedy.
Well?
Look...
..something has broken down
in your relationship, hasn't it?
What makes you say that?
It's the way that Marcelle
puts things to me.
You mean she's angry
because I made her pregnant?
No, it isn't quite that.
No, there's something...
..that she said to me.
"He's the one...who always decides.
"He's always made up his mind. He...
"..he never gives me time to make
up mine."
I won't guarantee the exact words.
Uh-huh. You're talking
about this pregnancy, right?
Yes. Well, then...
..we always knew there might be an
accident,
and so we thrashed it out
and decided, in full agreement,
exactly what we should do.
How long ago did you thrash it out?
Oh, I don't know.
Two or three years ago, perhaps.
Well, don't you think that in two
or three years
she might have changed her mind?
Um...refill?
No, thank you.
She's afraid of the operation,
is that it?
Oh, I don't know.
Do you...
..do you think she wants me
to marry her?
I think you've got to go
and talk to her. Tonight.
But I do beg of you not to mention
me.
Just say that you've had an att*ck
of scruples.
It does happen to you, you know.
I think she'll come up with
a great deal.
The poor woman wants to unburden
herself to you.
But only to you.
Very well, I'll...
I'll try and make her talk.
Well, don't say you haven't
been warned.
Thanks. You're not angry with me?
No, not at all.
Aid to the wise is as good as a kick
in the crotch.
Don't bother to see me out.
Bye, Daniel.
Mathieu, dear friend.
It's going to end badly.
Abortion or marriage,
the end is going to be grim.
Not just my life, everything.
There's a smell of disaster
about it all.
years of peace
and we're rotting, dying.
Brunet says there'll be w*r
in September.
It'll come.
You can feel it in the air.
I'm an idiot.
I try to make my own personal,
rational choices,
while chaos is ready to overwhelm
us all.
This is how it all ends, I suppose.
Ah.
I'll stick.
I hate you.
SHE BLOWS ON DICE
Damn.
Last game. Your throw.
Three aces.
Stick.
Two pairs.
You've won. Good.
Another game? No, I was
playing to see if I should pass.
Well, you've passed, then.
Not me.
Feel my hand.
I'm sweating.
I'm sweating all over.
How about that one?
I'm sick of this bandage.
Makes me look like a w*r casualty.
I can't go back to the hotel.
Lola will come looking for me.
Go and stay at Claude's place.
Why don't you?
I will.
You ought to write to her.
Why?
It's the proper thing to do.
So what can I write?
Don't you want to break with her?
I don't know.
You don't know?!
What about you?
Would you like her? Me?
BELLS PEAL
. .
Time for me to go.
No, don't. Don't go.
I don't want to know. I don't
want to know anything about it.
But you might have passed.
No, I haven't.
I shall catch a train this evening,
go back home.
Don't be stupid.
You know Father will want to know
the results in detail.
Yes.
All right. Go and find out.
Only come back straight away and
I'll stay here.
Why don't you come part of the
way? No.
You can wait in a cab.
I'll stay here.
But suppose it rains.
Oh, Boris, please don't torment me.
I'll be here.
I've haven't got the strength to
move.
You've seen him?
The news is good.
Excellent.
Do you know, Marcelle, we've
never really appreciated Mathieu.
Oh? He pulled me up right at the
start.
He said he knew perfectly well
that something had gone
wrong between you.
It's been on his mind.
You told him...that we'd been seeing
each other?
Well, wasn't that what we'd agreed?
You told him... Of course.
How did he take it? Very well.
Very well indeed.
At first, he couldn't believe it,
but...
I expect he said, "Marcelle tells
me everything."
Yes, he did. In so many words,
that is what he said.
Oh, Daniel, I feel so guilty
about it all. Oh, so does he.
Guilty.
Tormented with remorse.
He is? Oh, I wish you could have
heard him.
"Poor, dear Marcelle," he kept
saying,
"I'm deeply to blame,
I loathe myself.
"I want to make it up to her.
Do you think there's still time?"
He said that? His eyes
were quite red.
How that man loves you.
Oh, Daniel. He's coming here this
evening.
"I want to clear everything up,"
he said,
"make a fresh start with her."
Oh, Daniel, how can I ever thank
you?
Oh, I need no thanks.
You are my friends.
Now, he's in your hands, Marcelle.
He'll do everything you wish.
Mm. You'll play your
cards well tonight, won't you?
Hm?
THEY CHUCKLE
♪ Les mains se tendent de tous cotes
♪ Les chaines sont lourdes
♪ Puis-je les oter?
♪ Un seul pas contre la tyrannie
♪ Une raison d'etre dans toute ma
vie
♪ La route est dure mais
je suis forte
♪ Mon ame est sure
♪ La peur est morte
♪ Je sais quoi faire avec la vie
♪ Quand toute la terre
♪ Sera affranchie. ♪