Lettres d'amour (1942)

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LOVE LETTERS

RESTORATION - CNC FILM ARCHIVES

WELCOME EMPEROR
AND EMPRESS

Out of the way, kids!

And don't you dare touch
the triumphal arch!

It's fragile.

I hear it! Scram, kids.

The mail coach is coming!

Halt! You've stolen the monument!

What now?

- Nice work, idiot!
- You should've made it higher.

I didn't make it for you!

It's my route too. Besides,
an emperor is no bigger than another.

With luggage, I'm over 12 feet tall!

You're one hour late,
plus you cause accidents!

We must get to town hall
before the emperor leaves!

Don't worry,
the emperor won't leave without you.

You could stay right here
and see the emperor.

But we are invited guests!

I can invite you too.
You can sit on my lap.

Lout! Boor! Scoundrel!

Unbelievable!

What time do you have, Counselor?

It's 2:50, Marquis.

I have 2:55
and the post office clock has 2:45.

No, no! It's lying.

The widow set the clock back
so the coaches seem less late.

Put that in the case!

We'll prove that it's her fault
my friends missed the emperor.

Dear fellow!

Why isn't your clock on time?

Firstly, I demand it be corrected.

- Secondly -
- Secondly?

I have nothing to say to you.

My lawyer, Boubousson, representing me
at the trial, will speak to you.

I have nothing to say to you.

My lawyer, Ledru, representing me
at the trial, will speak to you.

Counselor, I have just one question:
What time do you have?

2152.

My watch has...

-stopped.
- Naturally!

Your watch is just like you:
It's silent when it should speak.

I have 2:58.
The mail coach is 58 minutes late.

The court will hear of this.

We'll win our case
and replace the postmistress.

With the railway.

- Why “railway”? I detest the word.
Progress, sir.

- He's right, it's progress.
- No.

Progress is having our man
running the post office,

one whose watch tells
the same time as ours.

Seeing you out of mourning clothes
is so strange!

Hurry up, Marinette, I'm late.

Zélie!

The coach is 58 minutes late.
It must've gone over a cliff.

You picked today to come out of mourning?

How charming!

If I believed the lawyer mattered,
I wouldn't have picked you.

What matters is the court,
the judge, the public authorities.

So it's essential
the new district attorney be one of us.

There they are!

- We had an accident!
- These coaches are a public hazard.

Hello, my cousin. My cousin, hello.

And here's your son! Perfect.

You want to be district attorney?
Let me see.

What bearing! He'll look great in a robe.

- He has a law degree.
- Might come in handy.

He wrote a speech for the emperor.

No need. I'll speak.

As leader of the opposition,
the emperor can refuse me nothing.

Beware, the prefect
made your predecessor a cuckold.

- Married?
- No.

- Pen'ect! You've got the job.
- I'm eternally grateful.

No need for eternity.
My case is in one month.

I'm suing Zélie Fontaine.

Let's not keep the emperor waiting.

Attention!

TOWN HALL

- Good Lord!
- Is that you?

I had my luggage put in the empress's
coach. She invited me to ride with them.

- You're not in the coach yet.
- What?

I won't breathe easily
until I've shut the coach door.

- What a gallant husband!
- Can't you understand my position?

The emperor is here,
alone, without an escort,

at the mercy of any madman or drunkard!

To do this to me,
one of his best prefects!

He even left town hall without being seen.

- He probably used the service door.
- What service door?

You know,

the one you yourself use at night
when you didn't want to be seen.

- Go out at night? Me?
- Yes.

And sadly, my friend, you are seen.

Has the emperor returned yet?

Don't be upset.
It's a compliment to your town.

The emperor only lingers
when he finds something charming.

Hello, my cousin.

Hello, my cousin.

Hello, my cousin. Hello, my cousin.

Hello, buddy. Did you enjoy your lunch?

Hello, my cousin. Hello, my cousin.

Please forgive me, Your Majesty.
I'm very late.

Such is the right of beautiful women,
even for monarchs.

While I waited, I had a nice chat.

With that bird.
He showed me every courtesy.

He greeted me with, “Hello, my cousin.”

He seems the only living soul
in this place.

Where are the townspeople?

On the town square, sire,
awaiting your departure.

- That's right. Poor things.
- Anticipation is fun.

Especially when nothing's happened yet.
That's the best moment.

When it finally happens, it's so quick,
and it isn't always fun.

Forgive me, Majesty.

I totally agree. The agricultural
presentation yesterday was a bore.

I wasn't bored. I looked at you.
That's all I looked at.

'And you?
- Me?

I was afraid the empress would notice.

I thought, “How can I see her again?”

So you whispered a few words
to a dignified old gentleman.

- Who is he?
- My valet.

It was your valet
who came to see me yesterday?

Yes, my valet.

Under the old regime, he was a gentleman.

More dignified.

Actually,
it was easier to ask such favors.

It's a bit embarrassing with a valet.

Anyway, it's the first time.

By the way, what's your name?

Didn't he tell you?

I preferred to hear it from you.

- Zélie Fontaine.
- I feared you wouldn't come.

- Why not?
- You might not be free.

- I'm a widow.
- A widow?

When I saw you yesterday in black,
I thought you were an orphan.

I've been widowed three years, sire.

- You weren't married long.
- Three months.

Three months of happiness,
three years of regrets.

No, sire.

Three months of regrets,
three years of happiness.

I'm free, rich and happy.

What's wrong?

How idiotic! A gnat flew into my eye.

Let me see.

No wishes or regrets

-in your lovely little heart?
- No, sire.

Kings rarely have a chance
to meet a shepherdess. Too bad.

If you insist, I do have one wish.

- Finally.
- Yes.

For my foster brother.
He wants to be district attorney.

Goodness!
- For this small town.

- He'd like to be appointed here.
- Write his name.

The position became vacant a few days ago.

Perfect timing.
-Indeed.

“Désiré Ledru, lawyer.”

He's very serious, sire,
a hard worker who deserves the job.

Your Majesty won't regret
giving him this chance.

On my return to Paris,
I'll talk to the minister of justice.

As a just man, he'll recognize
the merits of such a fine young man.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart,
Your Majesty.

Now that he's received
what he so greatly deserves,

- I'd like you to make me a promise.
- Of course, sire.

Come to Paris so we may have
many more enjoyable meetings.

Paris?

Sire, I couldn't.
I'd feel out of place in the court.

Who spoke of the court?
We'll meet far from them,

as far as possible, believe me!

Sire, I couldn't.

Down with the Shop!

- What did he say?
-“Down with the Shop.”

- What shop?
- All of them, and their owners.

- What a rude parrot!
- No, he's part of high society.

They don't like the Shop.

Hello, my cousin.

“Hello, my cousin,” is for you, sire.

For nobles, the army, the church.
Society, in short.

The parrot knows their manners.

You mean your town
is divided into two camps?

The Society versus the Shop.

How idiotic! Zélie, we must fight it.

I hope that in his new position,
your protégé will help us.

You can count on it, sire.
You're so very kind!

Hello, my cousin!

Run and tell him the good news.
He must be waiting impatiently.

He'll be more surprised than anyone.

But I'll hurry so I may watch
Your Majesty's departure.

I'll hurry so you won't have to wait.

Her Majesty the empress
just left your room.

Thank you.

I brought the box.

- It's so heavy!
- It's full.

It's funny to see all these love letters
addressed to me, but not for me.

He never writes “Widow Fontaine.”

He says Zélie Fontaine
is too pretty a name for mourning.

- He did?
- Yes.

- You talk about me?
- Of course!

I said we were old school friends,
and you're the only one I can trust.

He asked if you were virtuous.

- Did you tell him I was ugly?
- Don't be silly!

- Any mail for me today?
- No, dear. No letter.

How awful.

Don't worry, he's sure to write.
Yesterday was your anniversary.

- Anniversary?
- Yes, May 15.

- Really?
- I'm certain.

You met at a ball in Paris on May 13,

-and two days later...
- Only two days later?

- That can't be true.
- You told me yourself.

- You remember everything.
- I doubt he's forgotten.

No, and that's what worries me!

The letter has been lost.

Somewhere, someone is reading it
and knows all about my affair!

Do you trust your maid?

She might read my letters,
but not before I've opened them.

It's no joke.

The situation is so serious,
I'm going to Paris to end it.

No, Hortense! You can't leave him.

Is he my lover or yours?
Make up your mind.

Fine. Don't get mad.

But next time, take a lover in town,
or someone illiterate,

because I'm done with your letters.
I get attached, you know?

No more love letters.
I prefer love without the letters!

The prefect's wife looks like
she's scheming when she visits.

She is scheming, Désiré.

She has to hide
to visit a lady of the Shop.

- You mean that much to her?
- I'm her best friend. Her confidante.

At school,
she'd read me her cousin's letters.

Now she reads you
the ones from her lover?

Are you crazy?

Hortense doesn't have a lover.
- Is that so?

In a small town like this,
everyone would know.

Listen.

He's leaving town hall.
Come out on the balcony.

Listen to those poor fools cheer!

- I want to cheer too!
- Why?

Were you invited to his party? No.
You've no reason to cheer him.

I heard the marquis presented
his candidate to the emperor.

- It doesn't matter!
- Why not?

Because the new district...
- What?

The new district attorney is you!

- The robe, the cap, everything!
- Long live the emperor!

I don't believe you.

- If he smiles at me, will you believe?
- Yes.

Long live the emperor!

By chance, I learned -

in my position,
I learn everything by chance -

that the position
of district attorney is vacant...

Your shot, Minister.
...at the Argenson courthouse.

True, sire.

Does Your Majesty know
how it came to be vacant?

I didn't ask.

My colleague from the Ministry
of the Interior surely knows.

No. I'm unaware of this rumor.

The prefect of Loir-et-Cher
gravely offended a young magistrate.

How very unfortunate.

But as there is a vacancy,
I'd like you to consider

Désiré Ledru, lawyer.

I'd like that paper back.
It's a souvenir from my travels.

- He'll visit you today.
- Your wish is my command, sire.

I'm curious to see if I'm able

to nominate
a small-town district attorney.

- And you, sir?
- I'm Argenson's new district attorney.

What is this Désiré Ledru like?

Good references. Law degree.
Member of the bar in Argenson.

That's not what I'm asking.
What does he look like?

- Look like?
- Yes.

Come in.

Is he handsome?

Personally, Minister, if I were a woman,

I'd say no.

- No?
- No.

I'll dismiss him.
No, you'll dismiss him for me.

Nomination of Judge Grimaud
to Montpellier.

I thought he was dead!

“My dearest love...”

Forgive me, Minister.

And it's signed, “Your Hedgehog.”

An error, sir.

- Are you “Hedgehog”?
- Yes.

I am.

- Prickly character?
- No, because of my hair.

I don't know how it got mixed up
with the others. I'm sorry.

Don't be, my dear hedgehog.

Of them all, it's the only letter
I'd liked to have signed.

Thank you, Minister.

- Here's the mail.
- Thank you.

Don't forget this one.
It's the most important.

A lady awaits you outside in a carriage.

- A lady? For me?
- Yes.

- You're sure?
- Yes, sir.

I'll go see.

MRS. ZELIE FONTAINE
ARGENSON, LOIR-ET-CHER

François!

Get in.

Hortense!

I'm so worried, I had to come.

- Have you written since May 8?
- Yes, one the 15th and one today.

Think carefully. It's very important.

- Are you sure you wrote me on the 15th?
- Of course.

- Why?
- I'd hoped you'd forgotten.

Forget our anniversary?
The little hotel by the river?

Not so loud!

- Did you mention it in the letter?
- Of course.

Why always evoke what we've done?
I know what we did! I was there.

I wish we were there now.
That's why I remind you.

The letter has been lost.

As we speak, my reputation may be ruined.

Coachman!

- To the courthouse.
- This coach is occupied.

Excuse me, young man.

This always happens with you!

The bellhop enters without knocking,
or a passerby stops us.

You're so afraid of scandal.
It's a constant struggle.

People need to take you seriously
so no one will ever disrespect me.

I'll grow a mustache.
Dinner at Nini's tonight?

Certainly not!
The maid's name is Hortense too.

- How about Frederick's?
- No, I can't tonight.

Get out of the cab.

- I'll write.
- Soon!

Yes, I promise. Now go.

There is no vacancy at the Argenson court.

Forgive me, Excellency, but I believe -

The position has been filled.

Some advice, Mr. Ledru. Don't insist.
It does more harm than good.

The emperor has his eye on you,
believe me.

Thank you, Excellency. Good-bye.

Sorry about the letter earlier.

Oh, the letter.
I hope you're lucky at love.

- Not really.
- That's what matters. Love.

Love as you like, but be lucky at love.

And if you're unlucky,
don't let a prefect steal your girl.

A prefect? Why?

Prefects aren't popular next door.

A prefect of a small town
gravely offended the district attorney.

I'll admit - his wife was too pretty.
You get the idea.

The prefect made
the district attorney a cuckold?

- Exactly. An offense that was deeply felt.
- Next door?

We believe this prefect
needs to be taught a lesson.

Understand?
- Certainly!

Do you know of any young men
in our office we could send there

to punish that prefect?

- In a duel?
- If you like.

A duel over the prefect's wife.

This man, who must be handsome,
will be named as district attorney

and if he manages to get intimate
with the prefect's wife,

we would be delighted.

Next door!

Hilarious!

It's not my idea, but it's a good one.

- Can you recommend anyone?
- Without hesitation.

- Handsome Hubert.
- Hubert?

You know him, in the next office.

I'll show you.

Not bad! He's irresistible.
A bit flashy, though.

It's part of his charm.

Mention the matter to him,
but be discreet.

I understand.
Next door doesn't know, you don't know,

and as soon as I'm done,
I forget everything.

Exactly.

I've heard the prefect's wife is lovely,
but it's in the middle of nowhere.

Will Handsome Hubert accept
being exiled to Argenson?

- Argenson, Loir-et-Cher?
- Yes.

- The Argenson prefect's wife?
- You know her?

A bit.

- Blond, said to be pretty.
- Very pretty!

- Handsome Hubert won't do.
- Why not?

- He'd never leave Paris.
- Let's ask him.

No point. I know his taste.

He'll do for a lover,
despite being a bit flashy,

but as district attorney? Ridiculous!

Out of the question.

Who, then?

Let me think.

I have an idea.

- Tell me.
- Me.

What?

Me.

You?

I don't mean to be rude,
you're a nice guy,

-but you're not exactly a lady-k*ller.
- Thanks.

Don't get me wrong. We need a man who -

But I know law!
I was born to be a magistrate.

It's my dream, to wear the cap and gown.

- Who'd have thought?
- Ever heard me debate?

I'm very eloquent.
I'm a great public speaker.

- What about the prefect's wife?
- A mere detail.

I'm ambitious.
I'll overcome every obstacle.

She's rumored to like handsome men.

For me, she'll make an exception.

- Do you have a plan?
- No, I'll follow my instincts.

I'll give you a chance.

- But if in six months -
- I won't need six months.

The arrogance of youth!

- That lady just sent this for you.
- Excuse me.

- Bad news?
- You could say so.

- Lover's spat?
- Worse.

It's over?
Then you're free for the prefect's wife.

Yes, now I'm free.

You'll be named
district attorney tomorrow.

Edouard.
- Sif?

- Did you send my letter?
- I was just about to.

Don't bother. I'll do it myself.

Here you are.

- How did you break up with him?
- It was easy.

- How did he take it?
- I don't know. I wasn't there.

I wrote him a letter. It's so much easier.

Obviously.

- Don't you think...?
- No, it's over.

He's a man of the world.
He won't write again.

Take down the gray trunk,
the bag and the hat case.

First the trunks, then the luggage.

- Any good cider?
- Yes, sir.

- But you loved him?
- I guess. I've forgotten.

Good-bye, lover! Now to burn the letters.

- Can you return them?
- No regrets?

I regret I can't burn them all,
for one is missing.

- But what if he's miserable?
- Don't worry.

You'll never hear from him again.

- Give them back tomorrow.
- No.

- Let me keep them a few days.
- What for?

Oh, my God!

- What's wrong?
- Nothing. I twisted my ankle.

What a crowd!
I'll slip out through the back.

- Excuse me.
- Make yourself at home!

That's what I'm doing!

Hortense!
- François.

I order you to leave immediately.
I won't see you again.

Don't tell me you meant
your breakup letter!

If you came to hear it yourself,
consider it done.

What?

- Can I help you, sir?
- He took the wrong door.

He wanted to know when...
the coach to Paris leaves.

Not until tomorrow. You can stay
at the hotel and we'll wake you.

There's no hurry.

I'm starting to like this town.

The cider is excellent.
I might stay for several years.

Good-bye, ladies.

- He seems insane.
- I think he seems nice.

He seems like he's up to no good.

I've never seen you so nervous.

This is how it opens. Don't you remember?

Giddy up! Away we go!

You seem to have made
the most of your trip.

Eighteen, fatherless.
Half the obstacles gone.

Now to deal with the mother...

For a new district attorney,
you seem pretty depressed.

Why not? Your protector made a fool of me.
They said the position was already filled.

They named someone else district attorney?

The son of an archbishop
who pulled some strings.

Some dandy from the court.
Probably a fool.

Watch what you're doing!

Unbelievable!

Can't you be careful?

- Is that your hat, sir?
- Yes, madam.

Goodness, the district attorney!

What? You're a magistrate?

Yes, madam.
Archbishop's son, court dandy, fool,

and the new district attorney!

You still think it's funny?

No, sir.

I feel bad about my role in it.

- Looking for someone?
- Yes, my lawyer.

- He's not here, as you see.
- Quite right.

- Would you tell Mr. Ledru -
- Really, madam!

Deliver your own messages.

Hello, District Attorney, how are you?

Hello.

That Zélie Fontaine certainly is insolent.

Don't let her lure you in!

She has no idea who she's dealing with.

- Good morning, Marquis.
- Hello.

How ever did you get egg yolk
on your jabot?

All rise for the judge!

Not there. Sit by me.

Hello.

Longevialle case.

Hippolyte Melchior Fernand,
marquis de Longevialle.

Against Prosper Robin
and Widow Fontaine, civilly liable.

You are accused of insult and injury.
Please take the stand.

Not you, madam.

- Why not her?
- Silence.

Your name is Prosper Robin,
26 years old, postman,

employed by Widow Zélie Fontaine.

We've heard good things about you.

Very kind, Your Honor.

Of course!
The widow gave that information.

Silence!

You're accused of insulting the marquis
while you were on duty,

of having shoved him
and beaten an animal belonging to him.

It wasn't an animal. It was a bird.

It was a parrot.

A superb c*ck

who emerged from the struggle
lacking several tail feathers!

Should this c*ck
be permitted in public transports?

Why wouldn't it?

Because this bird said things
offensive to those present.

He shouted, “Down with the Shop.”

Even if this bird did shout,
“Down with the Shop,”

how could that possibly offend
those present?

Because they belong, due to their
profession, to what is called,

rather stupidly, “the Shop.”

- Who calls them that?
- The c*ck and his master.

Let's not get sidetracked.
Let the accusation speak.

Your Honor, sirs,

I'll summarize the events on January 16
involving Prosper Robin,

employee of Widow Fontaine,
civilly liable.

Despite the information furnished
by Widow Fontaine about her employee,

following further investigation,
we've discovered

that the accused, far from being a saint,

has a weakness for drink!

He often abandons the driver's seat
in order to drink at inns,

which might explain
the constant delays of the coach.

He's right at home in a service
that is disorganized

and anarchic,

left to a woman
unqualified to run a public company

and fit only for
the frivolous pleasures of her sex.

I forbid any intrusion
into the private life of my client,

who is beyond reproach!

An honorable mention for virtue!

I scorn the words of a madman

who's already been convicted of slander.
Here's proof.

I also have proof.

I'll let you be the judge.

I received a letter
which wasn't addressed to me.

Yet more proof of how well
the post office is run.

The letter was addressed
to the irreproachable Zélie Fontaine,

whose virtue must not be slandered.

“My dearest love, Today is May 15.

One year ago, I held you for the first
time in that little hotel by the river."

- How dreadful!
- I totally agree.

-“Hidden away together like thieves”...
- Hear that, “like thieves"!

...“Because the world forbids our love.”

I order you to stop reading.
The letter doesn't belong to you.

It's signed, “Your Hedgehog.”

Zélie Fontaine, in love with a hedgehog.

Well, well, Zélie!

I call that bestiality!

Your Honor, I withdraw this civil suit.

He has deliberately revealed
private correspondence

forbidden by Article 312
of the Penal Code.

Accepted by the court.

We cannot allow a citizen to believe
he is above the law due to his birth.

You may belong to the Society, sir,

but your tactics are those
of a valet who just got fired!

There is no point in continuing
such a ridiculous trial.

I hereby dismiss the case.

Well?

- The Shop won, but Zélie Fontaine lost.
- How?

The marquis lost,
but Zélie Fontaine is dishonored.

I see.

After deliberation, the court upholds
the district attorney's conclusion.

Lacking proper cause,
the case is dismissed,

and the plaintiff is responsible
for all costs.

This farce will go down in history!

We won't give up!
We'll prove our adversary's infamy!

It's outrageous! That little
whippersnapper dismissed the case.

- It's a violation of justice!
- You must appeal!

It's unbelievable -

My friends,

stand aside for Innocence incarnate!

Madam, I'm with you.

We won't give up!
We'll prove the letter is fake.

- How can you be sure?
- I know my client.

- There's no “hedgehog” in her life.
- I'm sure.

This so-called letter is obviously
the work of a madman.

Only the marquis could have written it.

Have you ever heard such gibberish?

And the signature, “Hedgehog”?

What sane man
would sign a letter “Hedgehog”?

You know,

hedgehogs can be very sweet.

Madam, don't be sad.

Marinette... Didn't you see their faces?

They're ugly and old.
They'll never get love letters.

If a woman like you doesn't
do as she likes, who will?

If I were you, I'd leave town for a while.

- Why?
- To let the rumors die down.

They'll try to hurt you.

You think I'm afraid of them?
I won't run away.

I'll be here, ready for them.

- Did you hear that?
- Yes.

Darling!

Forgive me.

It's not your fault.

- I don't blame you.
- I should've said something.

But in front of all those people,
I just couldn't.

- You think I'm a coward?
- No.

I took the risk of receiving your letters,

probably because I enjoyed it.

Yes, I enjoyed it.

Your love affair
was a little bit mine too.

Now it's all mine.

Imagine his face if he knew
I'm pretending to be his mistress!

If you ever write him, do tell him.

- I'd like him to laugh.
- Yes, I promise.

And tell him
I thought his letter was lovely.

- Although quite indiscreet.
- Indiscreet?

It's stupid. Vulgar and stupid.

You're unfair, Hortense.
Firstly, that's my letter now.

I forbid you to speak badly of it.

- I'll fetch the others.
- Listen, Zélie -

No, I don't want the box.
Send the letters back or burn them.

- The box is gone!
- Let me explain.

It was me who...

You took the box?

Just now.

I didn't know you were here.

You were afraid I wouldn't give them back?

What do you think?

I think you entered on tiptoe,

opened the desk

and hid the box up your sleeve,

which made it difficult
to give me a greeting kiss.

That's what I think.

Stop, Zélie. I've been punished enough.

What you did wasn't nice.
You don't even dare look at me.

Neither can I. We're ashamed.

I'm madder at you
than all those Society people

because we were so close as girls.

No!

Leave now.

There's nothing else to say.

- François, where are you going?
- To Zélie Fontaine's.

- What for?
- Don't you see? We must do something.

I don't know what, but something.

I recovered our letters,
that's what matters.

It's not about you, but her!
This is all my fault!

- It will all work out.
-If I do something.

I forbid you to go
if you wish us to remain friends.

I won't buy your friendship so cheaply.

- Zélie will know you were my lover.
- She already knew you had one.

I don't want her to know it was you.

She's envious of me.

You'll give her a reason
to make fun of me.

I don't understand.

I told her you were
a lieutenant in the Imperial Guard.

Imperial Guard? Now I understand!

- A man like this.
- Yes.

- With one of these.
- Yes.

Naturally. Rather flashier.

So these letters
are from an Imperial Guard?

May I?

- François!
- I'm jealous of the lieutenant.

Naturally.

- I'd like to see Mrs. Fontaine.
- Please come in.

Thank you.

- Sir, you have my warmest thanks!
- I simply did my duty.

- You spoke very eloquently.
- You think so?

I've already seen several cases,

and I've never listened to
a magistrate with such pleasure.

- You're too kind.
- Have a seat.

Thanks.

- You have a gift for sharp retorts.
- Thank you.

The Society will never forgive you.

Don't confuse the Society
with the marquis. He's an idiot and -

- They're all the same.
- I disagree.

What? They're right to insult
a woman for having a lover?

- Not at all -
- And to boo her as she leaves?

Precisely.
- Boors and cowards, all of them.

- I agree, madam.
- I'm above their insults.

They don't hurt me.

Why should they hurt you?

It's my personal opinion,
not that of a lawman,

but I doubt that letter
was addressed to you.

- And why not?
Because...

I doubt you're capable...

You doubt I'm capable of arousing love?

I never said that!
But you're an honest woman.

You're like the Society,
thinking it shameful to have a lover.

Madam -

I don't care about public opinion.
I have a lover.

- You do?
- Certainly! I don't hide it.

- But he didn't write you that letter.
- What?

The author of the letter read in court
is not your lover.

- Who else would it be?
- The Hedgehog?

Yes, the Hedgehog.

- You think that's odd?
- Me? Not in the least.

- Wasn't his letter explicit enough?
- Yes, indeed.

- It leaves nothing to doubt.
- Especially for me.

Perhaps I'll have
the pleasure of meeting him.

I wouldn't count on it. He's far away.

- Is he a navigator?
- No.

He's an officer.

A lieutenant of the Imperial Guard.

Imperial Guard?

So he's a magnificent specimen,
a man like this?

- With these?
- That's right.

I bet their ears are buzzing
in the Imperial Guard.

- What?
- Nothing.

Those Imperial Guards don't know
how lucky they are.

So now you know the truth.
I don't know what you think,

although I can guess,
as you're part of the Society,

but as for me, I'm not ashamed.

I'll still hold my head high.

- Well, I guess this is farewell.
- Why?

In your situation, a woman like me...

A woman like you
is much too rare to be lost.

It'd be my great pleasure
to visit you again.

- Not afraid of scandal?
- I don't care.

About this Hedgehog,

is it indiscreet
to ask why you call him that?

- Because I...
- Perhaps his hair is a bit messy?

Not at all.

Another woman gave him
that name before me.

Another woman, before you?

How could there be any woman before you?

Come on.

Quickly!

“The minister of the interior,
by request of His Majesty,

recommends the prefect use
the annual town ball

to bring his community together,

to allow the various classes of society
to mingle and form friendships.

To this end, invite many shop owners...”

We know that letter by heart.

Then why do you insist?
The Shop must be invited.

- Fine, but not Zélie Fontaine.
- Why not?

To spare her the pain.

Many will turn their backs on her.

- She'll never find a date.
- Hopefully, she won't come.

But as an influential member
of the Shop, I must invite her.

I have no choice.

- He's here.
- Well?

It was difficult to find one.

We finally found him
at a girl's boarding school.

-Isn't it risky?
- Cousin, it's too late to back out now.

- I'll get him.
- Watch out for my husband!

Charlotte, keep this a secret.

Come on.

Can't you at least comb your hair?

How can you be a dancer looking like that?

No one dances with their face.

Come on.

Cousin, this is
your new dancing master, Mr. Mohawk.

- Mr. Loriquet.
- He came here just to teach you.

- My cousin has informed you of the event?
- A marriage, I believe.

A ball.

And you wish to dance the Skaters' Waltz?

No, the lancers quadrille.
He doesn't understand anything.

Tell me, sir...

do you at least have the music?

I have all the songs

in here!

This isn't going well.

- Do you know the quadrille?
- I'll try to remember.

My legs might be a bit stiff,

but a teacher's main tool is his voice!

That's exactly it. Wonderful.

Give me your dainty hand.

Sorry! A habit from
the girl's boarding school.

In position for the quadrille!
First figure, the Drawer.

Starting on the right foot,
one, two, three, bow.

One, two, three, four.
One, two, three, four.

Not so loud. People will hear.

- Your foot.
- What about it?

The servants must not know.

Is the quadrille outlawed here?

Is it considered too racy?

Should we tell him?

Why not? He won't understand anyway.

We'd like to surprise our guests.

No one must know
we're learning the quadrille.

No one must suspect
you're a dancing master.

Professional dancers have
a certain style and grace

which is quite distinct.

- Aren't you afraid -
- Oh, no. Not at all.

Can we count on your discretion?

No drinking.

And no women.

When shall we begin practice?

- At once.
- Fine.

Will you dance with eight or 16 dancers?

Sixteen! Entrust our secret to 16 people?

- Eight, then?
- That's already a lot.

We can't dance a quadrille alone.

- Playing piano?
- Hello, my cousin.

Let me introduce a dear friend,
Mr. Mohawk.

- Mr. Loriquet.
Pleased to meet you.

He's leaving. He comes and goes.
He's very busy.

- Here, Mohawk.
- It's Loriquet.

Wait! Your friend has forgotten this.

Oh, my. Take your case, Doctor.

- He's a doctor?
- A psychiatrist. He's a bit...

Out. Out!

- At the hotel, say you're a doctor.
- Yes, sir.

- Where are you staying?
- The Post Hotel.

- Zélie Fontaine's hotel! The lion's den.
- I don't understand.

It's extremely simple. You're not
a dancing master, but a psychiatrist.

- You work with madmen.
- I'd figured that out.

Good-bye. See you soon, Doctor.

Very soon.

Once again, good-bye.

Here's my guest list.

Who will we chose for the quadrille?

Choose officers.

They're used to forced marches.

We must dance the quadrille
without pause or respite!

Not one polka or mazurka.

Not once will Zélie Fontaine
and her set leave their chairs.

They'll be sidelined all night!

- How about Boubousson, your lawyer?
- Why not?

He's got two left feet,
but he can keep a secret.

Let me see.

Counselor Boubousson.

- François du Portal?
- Not him!

Why not? I bet he's a great dancer.

- Out of the question!
- I think he's charming.

It's impossible. The Society
hasn't forgotten what he did in court.

One thing the Society doesn't know,
but I do:

Since the trial, our district attorney
has openly compromised himself

with Widow Fontaine.

- What?
- He's always with her.

- Are you sure?
- He's been to her house twice.

The last time, he left at night,
without a hat, his hair a mess.

His hair is always a mess.
It doesn't prove a thing.

Do you think she's his mistress?

If I don't go to the ball,
they'll think I'm hiding.

I'll go, but I doubt
I'll have many dancing partners.

You'll have one there only for you.

- Do you like dancing?
- I love waltzing.

It's my first ball in three years.

- Hello, Mrs. Zélie.
- Hello.

- Do you know Mr. Daronne?
- No.

You will tomorrow. I'll be on trial.

You'll sentence me
to three months in jail.

Poaching usually gets two to three months.

You're young, so it'll be three.

- I brought you something, Zélie.
- A fish?

No, although I fished it out of the water.

Is this yours?

Where did you find that?

Against the dam.

Whatever gets thrown in the river
usually ends up in my pocket.

I appreciate it.

Bye, Zélie!

See you tomorrow, District Attorney.

So those are the Imperial Guard's letters?

It's so strange,
like they're clinging to you.

- What will you do with them?
- Burn them.

Poor Imperial Guard!

Saved from the river, still breathing,
and now you'll toss him in the fire.

If we kept
every love letter we received...

Wait, damn it.

They might cause a chimney fire.

After escaping the river,
they're capable of anything.

- I'd be careful if I were you.
- No, really, I must burn them.

- Not even one is worth saving?
- No.

Not even the first?

I'm sure you've forgotten
the first letter.

- Do you remember?
- Very well.

I wouldn't bet on it.

The first letter from one year ago.

A year is a long time for a letter.
I'm sure you've forgotten.

You'll feel like
you're reading it for the first time.

You won't believe it's written to you.

It'll seem like an indiscretion.

Indiscretions are quite tempting.

No.

I can't let it burn.

This Imperial Guard
might write beautiful love letters.

What right do you have to destroy them?

What if Joséphine
had burnt Napoleon's letters?

It'd be a terrible shame.

Love letters don't belong
to the recipient.

Beautiful love letters belong to everyone.
Everyone has the right to read them.

- You think so?
- I'm certain.

- But were his letters beautiful?
- His?

Do they deserve being saved from the fire?

- He writes beautifully.
- Unusual for a soldier.

- You just mentioned Napoleon!
- He was an exception.

He writes beautiful letters.

- Don't doubt it.
- I'd like to believe you.

Few men could write such letters.

Not even magistrates.

A magistrate would never
write a love letter.

Listen.

“My dear,

I went to Vorfs
for the things you asked me.

The mink is 5,000 francs, the astrakhan,
3,000, and the skunk, 2,500.”

It's a catalog.

I think it's more touching
than a love letter.

- And it isn't compromising.
- Stop mocking him.

If you knew what he can write
when he tries.

“My dearest love,

Today I thought I saw you
on rue de Rivoli.

It wounded me.

I thought,
'She came to Paris and didn't tell me.'

- She was a blond like you -”
- Blond like you?

He considers me blond.

His hair is very dark,
so in comparison, I seem blond.

“L followed her, thinking it was you.

A man awaited her,
a big brute, twice as tall as me.”

Twice as tall as an Imperial Guard?
A giant! Keep reading.

Not if you tease me.

Forgive me,
but these letters aren't very moving.

Read the later ones, they might be better.

- How did you know?
- A guess.

The end of an affair
is usually more eloquent.

“My dearest love,

Today on Sunday, your...”

I can't make it out.

-“Hedgehog.”
- That's it.

“Your hedgehog spent the day in his cave,

unbrushed, unshaven, like a real...”

-“Hedgehog.”
- Right.

“L was sad. I started writing down
all the things I was happy about.

It's something I would do as a child
to console myself.

I'd write:
1. My father. 2. My mother.

3. My boat. 4. My pocketknife.

Today I write:

1. Honey Pie. 2. Honey Pie.

3. Honey Pie. 4. Honey Pie.

Like that, for an entire page
to console myself,

because Honey Pie doesn't write."

- You find it silly?
- Not at all.

But quite surprising
for an Imperial Guard.

Can you see him with his sheet of paper,
like a kid being punished on a Sunday?

That's why I love him.

I thought you loved a handsome soldier?

He is a handsome soldier.

I didn't imagine him like that.

Can I see his handwriting?

It's the handwriting
of a cultured, intelligent man,

more used to the pen than the sword.

And charming, quite charming.

Distinguished.

And even...

Very brilliant. A man of the world.

No, his world is quite small.

Only two inhabitants: him and her.

With her, he can shine.
By her, I mean you.

- That's all in his handwriting?
- Am I wrong?

It's funny. I didn't see him that way.

I could be wrong,

the way I was wrong about you.

Pretty as you are, I naively thought
you didn't have a lover.

How silly of me!

I thought, “She married young and badly.

That's why she's both bold and shy.

The wounded woman is shy,
but the little girl is bold.

She has a wonderful imagination,
but she's very prudent.

She lives through her dreams.
She'll be wildly in love

then end the affair
before ever speaking to that person.

She'll only accept to suffer
in her dreams.”

How wrong I was.

You no longer believe that?

Your affair with the Imperial Guard
has reassured me.

I know you're not afraid of love.

I know who that is.

It's the doctor staying at the hotel.

- I heard he treats madmen.
- With music?

He always plays the same song
on his violin.

How odd!

It sounds like the lancers quadrille.

- What's that?
- A new dance for eight.

- Is it pretty?
- I prefer dances for two.

So do I.

Well, shall we burn those letters?

No. Not yet.

Did I save their lives?

Perhaps.

It's simple!

I already told you,
one sliding polka step.

One, two, three. One, two, three.

He fell asleep again.

Sir!

How funny!
I dreamt I was giving a dance lesson.

You were giving a dance lesson.

- Really?
- Really.

- In the middle of the night?
- Yes.

- Where and why?
- It's too long to explain.

Let's get back to work.

Stop!

The district attorney is coming.

Come on.

Are we dancing or playing hide-and-seek?

Hello?

Hello? Anyone here?

- What's that idiot doing here?
- I invited him.

- You're letting him in on the secret?
- No, just the quadrille.

I can't wait to see Zélie's face
when François dances with us.

Very amusing, but very risky.
You might ruin everything.

Is anyone here?

Hortense!

- Be quiet. We're not alone.
- What?

Friends, you can come out now.

That was a close one!
Hurry, everyone back in position.

- Good night.
- What do you mean?

- You gave me a candle, so I'm going to bed.
- The lesson isn't finished.

François, I beg you to keep this a secret.

- What?
- This quadrille.

I want to surprise my husband's guests.

I've kept other secrets.

Are you still angry?

To answer no would be rude.

Say it anyway.

- You seem happy.
- Almost.

- Will you be happy tomorrow?
- Or in total despair.

I heard you're seeing
a lot of Zélie Fontaine.

- Yes, Hortense.
- Charming woman.

Yes, Hortense.

- Simple woman.
- Yes.

Is that a compliment or an insult?

In any case, you're mistaken.

Come.

Come in.

- You'll join us?
- Please be part of our quadrille.

We can't do it without you.

I assure you. Don't be modest.

He's a wonderful dancer.

It will launch you in the Society
after your rough start.

No hard feelings. Shake on it.

- How's your handwriting?
- It's wonderful.

You'll help me with the invitations.
Sit down.

Here's the list.

- Sorry.
- Please, go ahead.

- Sorry.
- It's no problem.

What a wonderful world!

You hated me cordially
and I certainly didn't like you,

and we're apologizing
instead of throwing ink at each other!

We're carrying out the dancing master.
He's exhausted!

- I'm going to bed. How about you?
- Just a few more invitations.

- And you, Mr. du Portal?
- Me?

Mr. du Portal has excellent manners.
He'll stay as late as me.

Fine. Good night.

Let's see.

Zélie Fontaine.

Who'd have guessed
I'd write that name on an invitation!

- It's a lovely name.
- You think so?

Zélie Fontaine, “Merry Fountain,"
it's charming.

My pen refuses to write it.

Give it to me. It will manage quite well.

Here.

Your pen is smarter than you, Marquis,
although it's from a goose!

Imbecile!

What...

I've seen this handwriting before.

The Hedgehog!

It's the Hedgehog's writing!

Marquis, where is the dancing master?

I need you to confirm something. See this?

- It's the same name.
- No, the writing.

- It's the same handwriting.
- Fantastic!

- Where's the dancing master?
- In his bed, at the Post Hotel.

Are you sure it's the same?

- Absolutely.
- Good.

- May I go?
- Yes, but don't forget,

the dancing master
is supposed to be a psychiatrist.

- I'd like to see the psychiatrist.
- Who?

The one who treats madmen.

- Across the street.
- Across the street?

At the hotel. We don't treat madmen here.

What a pity, miss.

Marinette?

- Who was it?
- A man looking for the crazy doctor.

Come in.

Are you the doctor?
I mean, the dancing master?

I'm neither a doctor nor a dancing master.

I'm a man who's going to bed. Good night.

You must teach me the quadrille.

The day is done. It's midnight.

Just a few moves.

It takes more than that
to dance the quadrille, you know.

I'm exhausted.

I need private lessons. Name your price.

This entire town has got
the devil in the flesh!

Marinette, come here.

- Is that the doctor's window?
- Yes, madam.

Look.

- What a strange consultation.
- It looks like dancing.

What kind of doctor is that?

Another day like this and I'll go mad.

A man my age should know better.

You're all nuts in this town!

Come in!

- Doctor, madam wishes to see you.
- Which madam?

The owner. Quickly, it's an emergency.

- She needs you!
- Go on.

Wait here.

- Don't forget your medical bag.
- My bag?

Oh, my bag-

My bag. It's my bag.

It was so sudden.
This morning she was normal. It's awful.

- What's awful?
- You'll see.

I don't want to. I want to leave.

Doctor! Do come in.
Close the door. It's so windy!

- Windy?
- She's doing it again.

Good gracious! You're soaked!

- Me?
- Get under the umbrella.

Play along with it. It's her illness.

- Stay under my umbrella.
- Thanks. What's wrong with her?

- That's your specialty.
- Specialty?

How terrifying! Even dangerous.

How's the weather outside?

The moon shines brightly.

A bright moon?

But in here, it's pouring! Explain that.

I no longer try to explain
nor even understand.

What will become of us?

Look, Doctor,
the water is rising and rising!

Come, Doctor, next to me. Hurry!

Can't you see you'll drown?

Up here.

- Marinette, can you swim?
- Yes, madam.

- Then dive in and go for help.
- I'm going.

- No, I'm going.
- You?

- I swim better than her.
- Help! Help!

- Stay with her.
- You stay.

- She's your boss.
- It's your job.

- Mine?
- Aren't you a crazy doctor?

I'm no one's doctor.

No one's!

You're no one's doctor?

Very well.

Then explain why you receive a patient
in the middle of the night

and have him dance
as you play violin. Well?

Answer me.

One, two, three, four. Go on!

Young man with the mustache,
this is for you!

Désiré is totally lost.
Start over for him.

Excuse me, but what time is it?

-6:10 a.m.
- I missed the coach!

No, you haven't. The coach won't leave
until we've learned the quadrille.

- But the timetable!
- I don't give a fig.

- Am I the postmistress or not?
- You certainly are!

Then the coach won't leave until I say so.

- Are your bags packed?
- My bags? Where...

Oh, there they are. My hat, my umbrella.

- Where's my violin?
- You're holding it.

- I lost my head.
- You have that too.

You have everything. Let's start again.

- Just for you, Désiré.
- For you, sir.

Remember the tune, please!

Could someone make this horse shut up?

I can hardly hear myself.

Quiet, Sultan.

After my career,
to give dance lessons in a stable...

How embarrassing.
Come on, sir, I'm counting for you!

Polish the floor, like a skater's step.
Give her a spin.

And bow. That's it!

I wonder how well we'll dance
with just one lesson.

Not well. But what matters is
that the Shop not dance at all!

They'll be left out!

Bravo, gentleman. Such a noble aim.

- It's a fine joke.
- Yes.

- I think it's idiotic.
- How dare you?

Like a fool, I almost fell for it.
I'd be as ridiculous as you.

Thank God I learned the truth. I'm out!

You'll face your shame on your own.

We can hear you outside the courthouse.

I'm sorry, Your Honor,
but stupidity hurts me.

If I shout,
it's to defend myself against it.

Save your defense for a better cause.

Soon you might need it.

I've heard the marquis
has filed a complaint against you.

The minister of justice's investigator
arrives today.

All rise for the judge!

- I have nothing to hide.
- Nor does he. You'll see.

Daronne Jean-Baptiste Auguste,
you're accused of poaching.

You were caught red-handed
with a huge pike by a game warden.

Young fish are naturally attracted
to holes.

They're the death of young fish.

I'm the death of pikes.
That's all there is to say.

Gentlemen, my client was caught
with a pike, I admit, but...

MY DEAR ZELIE,
I BEG YOU NOT TO ATTEND THE BALL.

I CAN'T SAY MORE.
I'LL STOP BY LATER.

There's no law against
walking around with a fish.

Perhaps he was returning it
to the river.

What do you say, District Attorney?

I don't oppose the court's indulgence.

In that case, one month of prison.

Thank you, Judge, District Attorney.

Your Honor, you're a keen fisherman.
Remember my hole near the bridge.

Without any pike around,
the young fish will flourish.

- Deliver this letter immediately.
- Yes, sir.

One, two, three, four.

That's it! Now you're getting it.

- Really?
- Yes, you've got it.

Then you're free to go.

Bring him to the coach
and stay with him until it leaves.

He betrayed the Society.
He could betray the Shop.

Umbrella, hat, suitcase. Thank you.

Madam! You're too kind.
That's so generous.

The Shop is just as good as the Society.

And probably dances better.
Ladies and gentlemen, good-bye!

- Safe trip!
- Thanks.

Everyone hurry home and get dressed.

- This evening we do battle.
- See you later.

This letter arrived for you.

I thought he was gone for good.

- Who gave you this letter?
- A policeman.

- So he's here.
- Who?

A certain officer of the Imperial Guard.

- A friend of yours?
- A close one.

Although we've never met.

I don't know what he looks like,
but he's a close friend.

That's how it is.

If His Majesty could see this,
he'd be delighted.

Look how eagerly the Society and Shop
accepted my invitation.

To think I sent invitations
to these Duponts and Durands,

these Pitois and Grouillers,
as well as that Zélie Fontaine!

- I haven't seen her.
- She might not come.

If she doesn't,
it's because someone warned her.

There she is.

She's joining the Shop.

- How are you, Désiré?
- In fine form.

Is everyone here?

- Ladies, are you ready?
- Yes.

- I have a surprise for you.
- Surprise?

Several, actually.
But let's start with the first.

- He's here.
- Who?

Your Imperial Guard.

- You're kidding!
- He's definitely here.

He had a policeman deliver a letter.

- Give me your hand.
- What is it?

Not a snake! Just his letter.

- It's the same writing.
- It is.

- It's risky to open it here.
- You're too kind.

Don't tease me, Zélie.
This letter is for you.

For me? Why would your lover write to me?
I don't know him.

- Don't lie.
- How would I know him?

- So he was that discreet!
- Who?

Read the letter. It's for you.

François du Portal?

He was your lover?

You know the handwriting.
The same as the other letters.

- You're not telling the truth.
- Why would I lie?

Who'd boast of having François as a lover?

So the lieutenant of the Imperial Guard -

Was little François.

He wrote those letters.

You're both fine liars.

You're made for each other.

He's as bad as you. What a boor!

- What do you mean?
- I've nothing to say to you.

We're up. I'll tell the musicians.

Play the quadrille,
nothing but the quadrille.

Watch this. We took lessons
in secret to surprise you.

I expect you will.
The quadrille is a true ballet.

Bravo! Hurry and join the others.

We're missing a dancer. My partner.

- Who?
- François.

I have the worst luck.

If François isn't here, I'm not dancing.

With half a lesson taught by a madman?

Well, if no one will dance...

Play something else,
but nothing that can be danced to!

For your next dancing master, pick
a doctor who doesn't know the quadrille.

What? I don't understand.

You soon will.

Play the first figure of the quadrille.

That's right. Go ahead.

Second figure, the Crossings.

Your dancing master betrayed us.

- Your district attorney stood us up.
- He'll pay for that.

Sorry, my cousin,
first he'll settle his debt to me!

After that,
he won't have a shirt on his back.

Third figure, the Drawers.

Bravo! Bravo!

Dear Hortense,
you've arranged this so well.

Your sense of timing is astonishing.

Why isn't the Society dancing?
There's enough room.

One of our members deserted us
on the eve of battle.

- What?
- François du Portal abandoned us.

There he is! I want everyone to dance.

Take your position.

Now everyone will dance.

- You're the last to arrive.
- I almost didn't come.

- Why not?
Because I don't like betrayals.

Fine words, coming from you!

Will you dance the quadrille?

I don't see any problem now.

What did you do to Zélie Fontaine?

She seems furious with you.

That district attorney
has turned your head.

- What?
- When he looks at you,

you turn your head.

This morning
I had no idea what a quadrille was!

You still have no idea.

I came by your house to warn you.

Leave me alone.
I'll never speak to you again.

- What did I do?
- I'll never forgive your lie.

- Lie?
- Yes.

- About the Imperial Guard.
- I didn't lie.

No, but you let me lie,
which is even worse.

If you had any honor,
you'd have stopped me immediately.

You can't imagine
what your lies told me about you!

Be quiet.
Haven't you humiliated me enough?

Don't be ashamed.

You lied to prove to me
you could be in love.

I don't care what you think.

I only pretended to have a lover
to stand up to those other fools.

- Now leave me alone.
- Never!

What more do you want?
Do you think my lie gives you any claims?

It does.

I now consider myself your close friend,
or even a man who's a danger to you.

A man who keeps you awake at night.

Boor.

It's good to keep you awake.

I'd also like to be your close friend.

They might not be incompatible.

Zélie,

I love you.

I don't love you.

If you don't love me after all that,
you'll never love anyone.

Then I'll never love anyone.

Watch out, Zélie. It's what will happen.

Your heart is unlike others.

Their hearts have open arms,
to pull one close, to hug.

Your heart is armless.

I'm pleased to see such enthusiasm
and joy at your ball.

We dance together in harmony,
according to His Majesty's wishes.

What a warm, friendly atmosphere!

We dance on a volcano of cordiality.

Here for the ball, Mr. de Mortemort?

I've arrived during the ball,
but I'm here to see you.

- May we borrow your office, Prefect?
- Certainly.

I'll show you the way.

This is the quadrille's final figure.
I adore it.

This ball is finishing
much better than it began.

- You're certainly cheerful.
- Satisfied, my cousin.

- With the ball?
- No, the end of the ball.

Our district attorney
is dancing to my tune

and I'm delighted.

What do you mean?

Remember the gallant Hedgehog,

the mysterious author of the letter
I read at the trial?

The Hedgehog is none other
than François du Portal.

Today, it's all crystal clear.

François, as Zélie's lover,

got himself appointed
district attorney in Argenson

in order to misuse his power
to clear his mistress's name.

There are words for that,
and they are “abuse of authority.”

As of now, they're the world's
most beautiful words.

This document was given to me
by a man whose name is no mystery,

the marquis de Longevialle.

- You wrote this invitation, didn't you?
- Yes.

As well as this letter signed,
“Your Hedgehog”?

- Are you the Hedgehog?
- I am.

Well?

I'm not Zélie Fontaine's lover.

I believed you more loyal, sir,
and braver.

I expect your immediate resignation.

Very well.

You've put me in quite a position
with the minister.

Did you forget the delicate mission
for which you were sent?

Otherwise you'd never have gotten the job.
Remember our deal!

I remember.

Have you done anything to gain
the favors of the prefect's wife?

No.

Not only did you fail with her,
you seduced the postmistress!

I didn't even seduce the postmistress.

See that tall, grim-looking fellow?

He's the one who refused
to name me district attorney.

- He named Mr. du Portal instead.
- Exactly.

Nice work.

Zélie, they're accusing you
of being François's mistress!

- Now that takes the cake!
- You'll be questioned.

I beg you, don't mention me.
I swear you'll be safe.

They'll cover it up
and François will resign. That's all.

- That's all?
- I know him. He won't say anything.

- You no longer love him?
- No.

Yet you'll still allow him
to sacrifice himself for you?

It's funny.

I could only accept that
from a man I loved.

- Put yourself in my shoes.
- In your shoes?

In your shoes,
I'd go find the Ministry investigator,

that tall, grim-looking fellow,
and I'd tell him the truth.

You expect me to dishonor myself?

If you don't, I will.

You're a little monster!

- Or you're in love with François.
- No.

I'm a big monster.

- Sir, I'm Mrs. Zélie Fontaine.
- Baron de Mortemort.

Forgive me for this troublesome affair.
The scandal -

if His Majesty's orders had been followed,
there'd be no scandal.

- Madam!
- A terrible scandal for Mr. du Portal,

but also for you,

as the emperor will discover you didn't
name the right district attorney.

At least, not the one
he asked you to nominate.

- Who?
- His name is Désiré Ledru.

I know what I'm talking about.
I recommended him to His Majesty myself.

- You know His Majesty?
-Intimately, sir.

Everyone here knows it.

Ask the prefect's wife. Go on, ask her.

It's true. Zélie was just the go-between.

I was François's mistress...
for the last year.

One year? What a devil!

- I mean, how incredible.
- What?

- Zélie didn't tell you?
- Me?

You think we're concerned
with your love life?

We have better things to talk about.

I'm dying of shame.

That's one advantage honest women
have over the others.

- Enough!
- I swear this will remain between us.

- Three, with me.
- Four, with Mr. du Portal.

- Four! It's a secret society.
- One I'm delighted to be a member of.

I'm returning your resignation.

The complaint is dropped.
You've even fulfilled your mission.

You've avenged the Justice Department.

- Me?
- Don't bother. She confessed.

My compliments, dear friend.
She's quite charming.

It's an old story.

I avenged the Justice Department
before it'd been offended.

Everyone is happy except for us.

- Maybe for the same reason.
- What reason?

I don't know...

Perhaps because we're in love.

Not that again! Leave me alone.

- Fine. I'm going.
- I should hope so.

- For good this time.
- For good.

I'm leaving.
Facing you or not, you decide.

If I don't face you, you'll have to shout.

Facing you, I'll see on your face
that you want me to come back.

And I will.

I'm leaving. Facing you.

- I won't call you back.
- We'll see.

- You called me!
- That doesn't count.

Too late.

I'm warning you, I don't love you.

But I can't let you leave
carrying my lie with you,

so I guess I'll have to share it with you.

- That's all.
- Liar!