02x08 - The Blue Fairy

[bunniefuu]

And this is your bibliography, good.

- All you have to do is get to work.
- I'm already doing it, professor.

And what would you like to do after?

- I'd like to teach.
- Good. That's an excellent idea.

In fall there'll be a civil service exam
for teachers' training college.

I'd actually like to try and embark
on an academic career.

I see.

Greco...

You're a good student, I hold you
in high regard. You've worked hard.

Thank you, professor.

But it's better not to run
before you can walk.

You see, each one of us is the result
of a long process of refinement

that often spans generations

and you have
definitely put in the effort,

but nature does not take leaps.

And then, I don't mean to offend,
but take your accent.

Yes, it has improved,

but it's a signal among the many
that don't favor you.

Just think how useful
your education could be

in training a new generation
of elementary teachers.

In any case,
let's take it one step at a time.

Let me read
some of your thesis soon.

Everything Franco Mari had given me
was out of fashion,

and had grown old on my back.

I'd always be afraid,

afraid of saying the wrong thing,
of using an excessive tone,

of revealing petty feelings,
of not having interesting thoughts.

Look who it is! Naples.

Naples! Remember to bring me the
sweater I left in your room last night!

- What do you want?
- I'm Pietro Airota.

- So?
- You're Elena Greco, right?

- What do you want?
- I see you all the time.

Well... I wanted to say
I'm sorry about before.

Those guys are boors
who don't respect anyone.

I was cowardly, I wanted to intervene
but I couldn't bring myself to.

- Intervene to do what?
- To defend your good name.

I don't have a good name.

- May I walk with you?
- Perhaps it's better than stalking me.

You're a brilliant student,
so many people say so.

- How old are you?
- Twenty-two.

- Are you writing your thesis?
- It's not finished.

Then I'll have to see
to its publication.

Publication?

If your thesis is good, they publish it.

I didn't know that. Is yours good?

I don't know.
I don't know if I'm any good.

I don't know if my thesis is valid.

I get good grades in the exams,

but that doesn't mean
that I'm clever or intelligent.

- What are you talking about?
- It's true.

Are all the theses
that come out well, published?

Yes.

I don't know if mine's interesting.

Everything's interesting
if you know how to approach it.

- What's it on?
- It's on Horace.

- Astronomy and astrology.
- Fascinating.

Really? Do you know Horace well?

- And I can keep going until you stop me.
- Bravo!

You could help me with my thesis.

- Are you going home at Easter?
- No.

- You never go back?
- I haven't been back in ages.

- Everyone leaves, what do you do?
- I study.

- Thank you for walking me home.
- I'm very glad to have spoken to you.

I'll see you soon.

- You mix in the right circles!
- What do you mean?

That's the son of Professor Airota.

- Who's that?
- He's a bigwig in the academic world.

His mother's important too,
it's a family that matters.

Don't let him get away.

I was blocked. For a while,
I couldn't work on my thesis.

I stared at the pages in books
without seeing the lines.

I racked my brain about what to do.

Give up at the end,
return to the neighborhood,

graduate, teach in elementary schools?

Teacher. Miss Greco.

In the neighborhood I'd be seen
as someone important,

the porter's daughter who'd known
everything since she was small.

You mustn't read, Elena.
You must study.

Philosophy, Latin...

...adventure novels,

the daily news, fashion magazines,
you must always study.

Always try to understand.
To understand...

Come.

I'd mourn my time with Franco Mari
for the rest of my life.

How lovely those months,
years with him had been.

At the time, I hadn't realized
their importance

and now they made me sad.

The rain, the cold, the snow,

the springtime scents along
the Arno River, politics, literature...

His room at night, his body...

all gone.

I'm lying to myself, I thought.

Had it all been so wonderful?

Even then, I knew there was shame,
awkwardness, humiliation and disgust.

To accept, endure, force oneself...

Is it possible that even
happy moments of pleasure

don't bear closer inspection?

I don't know why I started writing
a story in the third person.

It took me 20 days
to write it, non-stop.

At the end, I reread a few pages,
but I didn't like it and I let it go.

Meanwhile, I realized I felt calmer,

as if the shame had passed
from me into the notebook.

- Who is it?
- It's Bianca.

Hi.

There's a boy waiting for you
downstairs. I said I'd tell you.

- A boy?
- Yes.

See you.

Pietro!

- Elena! How are you?
- Fine, thanks.

- You?
- Fine.

My parents are here,
I'd like you to meet them.

Would you like to come to lunch with us?

- I have to get changed.
- You've got plenty of time.

Take your time, I'll wait here for you.

All right. All right, thanks.

Mariarosa, dear daughter,
I can't talk politics with you.

Because I'm a woman?
Because I'm young?

Because you're full of prejudice

and prejudice doesn't
allow you to think deeply.

I think if we listened a bit more
to the young, it could be useful.

Adele, you always say
what everyone is thinking.

Am I banal?

No, Mamma, you're not banal,
you're sensitive.

You like everyone.

My family's favorite game
is to g*ng up on me.

You won't admit that
you're trapped by interclassism.

- Professor Airota! How nice to see you.
- Hello, my dear fellow.

Signora Adele, my respects.

Your son is doing himself proud in Pisa,
but we knew he would.

- Good morning, professor.
- Good morning, professor.

Good morning.

The young lady is
a very capable student of mine.

Good.

We won't keep you
any longer, bon appétit.

- Bon appétit.
- The same to you.

Who's that?

A professor of Latin literature,
I think.

What were we saying?
You're anti-American.

And you, Dad?
Are you socialist and pro-American?

That was Pietro's family,

they talked about everything,
they argued, but politely.

They never said anything
just for the sake of it,

they had big ideas,
big, real passions.

I wasn't real.

I observed them stupefied
by my own discomfort,

searching for something to say
to make me seem intelligent,

like Mariarosa.

The Americans after Hiroshima

should have been tried
for crimes against humanity.

Bravo.

Congratulations!
You and Mariarosa are two of a kind.

Cultured youth,
rebellious young ladies...

The main thing
is not to think of rebellion

as rebellion, as an act
of opposition and that's all.

What are you doing, smoking?

A small act of opposition,
every so often.

Papa, Elena's working on her thesis.

Pietro told me
you're not even going home.

I'd like to do it in the next session.

- Can we do anything for her?
- No, thank you, Dad.

Elena's done everything on her own
and she is very proud of it.

Bye, see you soon.

Bye, Elena.

- I'll be right there.
- Goodbye.

Do you have to go, Pietro?

Did you enjoy yourself?
You swear?

Of course I enjoyed myself,
you're a really wonderful family.

- It's important for me.
- Thank you again for bringing me.

Why don't you come to Turin with us?

- Grab some clothes, I'll wait here.
- Are you crazy?

I've never liked anyone
as much as I like you.

I have to go.

I promise I'll be back soon.

- Bye.
- Bye.

- I'll be back soon.
- Yes.

I graduated at the end of July
with the highest grades.

I avoided telling my parents,

fearing my mother
would feel obliged to come.

After so long,
I was truly pleased with myself.

My father didn't go past
fifth grade elementary,

my mother stopped in second.

None of my forebears ever knew
how to read and write.

- You're right to be proud.
- It's a revolution, Pietro.

Everything was good
at the restaurant, wasn't it?

Delicious.

Are we engaged?

What do you mean?

Do you think this is an engagement?
Or not?

I don't know. Why do you ask?
What do you say?

For the past few months,
I've thought so.

But, if you have a different opinion,
consider it a graduation gift.

Are we engaged?

- Don't go.
- What will I do here?

How will I support myself?

I haven't been home
for a year and a half.

I'll wait for the civil-service exam.

Stay.

That's what north-south
engagements are like.

You'll go to Turin, I'll go to Naples.

- We'll love each other long distance.
- It won't be long, Elena.

- Two years.
- What do you mean, two years?

To establish myself at the university,
then we'll get married.

September 1969.

- You've already chosen the date?
- Yes.

Of course, September 1969 is perfect.

Then we'll decide the day together.

I have a gift for you, too.

- To thank you for looking after me.
- What is it?

It's a novel.
The only copy, my only attempt.

I wrote it all in one go,
I don't even know what I wrote.

I'll never write another one.

- There are even some racy pages.
- What does racy mean?

You'll see.

I'm trusting you, Pietro,
I don't dare let anyone read it but you.

- What's it about?
- Read it.

- Let's go to my place.
- Where?

To my room, in the college.

- You know it's not allowed.
- Is that a problem?

It's best if we call it a night.

Maria.

Maria! Pass me the bottle,
I want to drink.

- Hold on.
- Come on!

We're coming into Naples station...

What's all this?

You weren't expecting it, eh?
They're asphalting everything.

They're making a big road that
goes from here to San Giovanni

and maybe as far as Portici.

Now and then the state remembers us.

Maybe something will move
in this neighborhood.

Let's go.

Good morning, Gioacchino!

- Let's take the avenue.
- Why? We're going that way.

Can't I show off my graduate daughter
to the neighborhood?

- Good morning, Don Vittorio!
- Lenuccia's here!

- She's back from Pisa, she graduated!
- What a satisfaction!

- Good morning, Don Vittorio!
- Here's the graduate!

She can give us all lessons!

Don Ciro, Lenuccia's here!
A degree with the highest grade!

- Good morning, Donna Evelina.
- Good morning, welcome back!

Thank you.

Don Mario, good morning.

- How are things?
- All good.

I went to pick Lenuccia up
from the station, she graduated.

Congratulations!

Vittorio always said: "My daughter's
in Pisa and she studies every day."

You could tell
she had a scientist's brain.

I told her mother
she should continue her education.

- She's given me huge satisfaction.
- I'm so glad.

- And will she work now?
- I'm having her do the civil exam.

She'll get a job as a teacher.

The porter's daughter
who teaches children Italian!

Wonderful, I'm so pleased.

Congratulations again.
The graduate!

Ada showed up at her place to tell her.

Donna Rosa heard from Gigliola

that your friend told her:
"There's a kid involved. Get out!"

So Ada said: "No, there isn't just
one kid here, there's two kids."

Do you realize the situation
your friend has put herself in?

- And Stefano?
- Now he has two wives and two kids.

Mamma, can you have two wives?

What are you talking about!
Now Stefano's King Farouk!

- And Lila?
- She left home, you knew that.

- But I didn't know Ada was pregnant.
- Who knew it?

Gigliola who's the cashier
at the bar, just told us.

People talk and things come out.

- Where's Lila now?
- Who knows?

I only know she left
her husband and her home,

she's run off with her kid,
who knows where.

Is it true you're getting married, Lenù?

- Yes, but not right now.
- Didn't you see the ring he gave her?

His name's Pietro.

And when will the gentleman
make an appearance?

- We're not old-fashioned.
- Old-fashioned?

We don't even know
who you're marrying.

What do you want to know?

What he does, what he earns,
where you'll live after you're married.

For now he's an assistant, like
a professor, but he's not earning yet.

But he will earn.
They published his thesis.

He's well regarded in academic circles.

His family is very important in Turin.

- Maybe we'll go there to live.
- In Turin?

Yes, or somewhere else.

So, he's a professor but doesn't earn,
he's written a book but no one knows.

That's great.

Things don't always go the same way.

Out there, the world is evolving, it's
more complex than what you're used to.

I didn't understand a word,
but that means you're intelligent.

Leave her alone.

Papa got the pastries you like.

Gianni, get the pastries from the shelf.

A package came for you
from Miss Oliviero.

She's in Potenza with her cousin.

- It's already open?
- It might have been food.

- You never mind your own business.
- Get off my back.

There are my elementary school
report cards.

Miss Oliviero even kept
your report cards.

You made a pasta fit for a king.

I can still smell the pancetta
and tomatoes.

Lenuccia likes it, you know.

I made it with tomato paste
like my mother did.

I learned Mamma's recipes,
what's she learned?

She only knows how to study.

Poor professor! What a life
he'll have when he marries her!

You don't get it,
we're from another world...

What happened, Lenù?

- Miss Oliviero d*ed a few weeks ago.
- I'm sorry, may she rest in peace.

She was old, don't be so dramatic.

You can't even leave the dead in peace!

- She saw to our daughter's education.
- She wanted to command in our home!

What would you have done
with our daughter?

I always knew how smart
my daughter was,

- I didn't need a teacher to tell me.
- She even sent her to Ischia.

To study?

NOTEBOOK
Elena Greco

THE BLUE FAIRY

WELL DONE!

VERY GOOD

BEAUTIFUL!

EXCELLENT!

Already on the first page
I started to feel sick

and soon I was drenched in sweat.

Only at the end did I admit
what I'd realized after a few lines.

Lila's childish pages were
the secret heart of my book.

Conditional sentences
express an impossible

or unattainable hypothesis.

As we can see in the examples,

it envisages the use
of the subjunctive in the apodosis

and the conditional in the protasis.

Give me an example of
an implausible conditional sentence.

If I was been...

If I was been a dunce!
If I had been, had!

Good thing you've got a fever,
you can revise with me.

Maybe you won't fail the year again.

The professor from Pisa has arrived!

We're back.

- Did you keep an eye on the sauce?
- Yes.

Lenù, the mailman brought
this letter for you.

It's from your fiancé.

Thanks.

- Aren't you going to read it?
- I'll read it later.

Elisa, come here.

Put the milk in the fridge
and the fruit in the bowl.

- Where are you going?
- I'm tired, I can't take any more.

- You're not going to open it?
- I want to finish up here.

No, go.
Don't worry, I'll finish it later.

You don't even know how,
it's all creased.

- Your father will throw this in my face.
- Thanks.

Get the tablecloth.
Get the plates, we'll set the table.

Mamma, I'm going out.

- Where are you going?
- To make a phone call.

You haven't been out for two months,
you go out now we're about to eat?

- Hi, Gigliola, I need to make a call.
- Lenù, you only show up now?

Marcello said you've been back for ages.

You're right, I've been busy at home.
We'll talk later.

Yes? Who's speaking?

- Hello, Pietro?
- Elena!

- At last!
- I read your letter.

- Which one? I've written three.
- The one where you talk about the book.

Is it true? Who wants to publish it?

My mother's publishing house,
I gave it to her straightaway.

She was very enthusiastic.
You have to call them, it's important.

- But did you read it?
- Yes.

And...?

- It's good.
- Is it good?

It's good,
but I'm not a literary critic.

They want to publish it,
they asked if you've had other offers.

What offers! I only gave it to you.

It's just that...

If I can give you some advice,

I'd take out the racy bits.

- No. I'm not taking anything out.
- As you wish.

You haven't told me
if you're happy about it.

Yes, I'm very happy.
But I'm confused, I need to think.

All right, but call
the publishing house.

I wrote the number in the letter,
did you see it?

Yes.

- Don't forget to call.
- All right.

- Bye.
- Bye.

- How much do I owe you?
- What do you owe? C'mon...

Thanks.

- They're publishing a book of mine.
- Are they paying you?

- I don't know. See you, thanks.
- Bye.

I need to talk to Lila,
where can I find her?

You'll need to ask Ada.

I'm serious, she knows everything.

Lila and Enzo left a note on the table
saying where they were going,

with the exact address.

- Is she at the grocery store?
- Yeah, but hurry, it's closing.

Thanks, Gigliola,
I'll come visit you soon.

Hi, Ada.

Lenù.

Your mother told me
you were in the neighborhood.

Lisa, this is Greco's daughter.
She graduated.

- Congratulations.
- Thank you.

I'll see you after lunch. Don't be late,
we have to decant the oil.

Very good, ma'am, I'll see you later.

Goodbye.

- You look well.
- You look well, too.

Walk me home. The baby's
with our neighbor, she's in a hurry.

With all due respect for your friend,
I'm here from morning till night.

- I never have time to do anything.
- Gigliola said you know where she is.

- You want to go see her?
- Yes, I have something to tell her.

Come up, I'll give you the address.
We'll have coffee.

- Good afternoon.
- Good afternoon.

Good afternoon, Signora Rosaria.

- Has she eaten?
- Yes, she's been very good.

She drank all the milk from the bottle.

- Have you seen this little one?
- She's so beautiful.

'Cause she resembles me
more than her father. Her name's Maria.

Will I see you tomorrow morning?
Please, don't be late.

I have to make deliveries.

- Then you can do a half day on Friday.
- All right, don't worry.

- Lenù, shall we have a coffee?
- Yes.

- How's Antonio?
- Antonio's in Germany.

He works for the Solaras.

Those lowlifes.

They cozy up to Stefano
but they want to take everything.

- He works for the Solaras?
- For a long time.

We never hear from him,
he doesn't tell us anything.

Do you smoke?

I've taken up the vice.

Lenù, there's a lot you don't know.

When I found out I was pregnant
to Stefano, I showed up here.

Still in my work smock.

Lila opened the door,
she looked at me and said...

- Has something happened?
- Nothing you don't already know.

What a pigsty.
This is how you make him live?

Don't you know how to do anything?

From tomorrow
I'm coming here to clean.

Do you know who the White Lady is?

With everything you know,
you don't know who the White Lady is?

She's Coppi's mistress.

Mistress... someone who loves
because she is truly loved.

I know who she is.

Yes, but I'm not like her,
I'm more modern.

I don't bend.

I discovered there's something
called the Sacra Rota.

It means that even God agrees
to dissolving marriages

when another love is stronger.

Stefano's told you a thousand times
how to make the bed, but you won't.

You gotta get outta here
or I'll k*ll your kid.

You're behaving like your mother.

Sit down, I'll make you a chamomile.

You're saying I'm crazy?

That I'm crazy like Mamma?
You gotta get out of the way.

You have a chamomile!

She took the baby out to get some air.

She left me in the house
to do housework.

That evening I ran to Stefano
as he was closing the store

and I told him I'd been to his house
and told Lila about us.

Make me a chamomile.

The kid's handsome.

- He's the spitting image of Stefano.
- No.

- He has his eyes and mouth.
- That's not true.

If you have to read
your books, go ahead,

I'll take care of Rinuccio
and the house.

See how well I cleaned?

Do what you want,
but don't go near the kid.

I won't do anything to him, don't worry.

Lila...

I'm pregnant.

What did you say?

It's true.

- To Stefano?
- Of course.

Does he know?

No.

- Get out.
- No.

- What's going through your brain?
- I'm staying here.

- You want to drive me crazy.
- Then there'll be two of us.

You'll ruin me.
It's not true that you love me.

You'll make me lose all my customers.
Do you want to see me broke?

You know the situation's
already difficult.

Please, tell me what you want,
I'll give it to you.

I want to be with you forever.

I want to be with you forever too.
But not here.

- Here.
- This is my home.

Lila's here, the baby's here.

From today, so am I.
I'm pregnant.

I know I behaved like a madwoman,
but Enzo and Lila were both crazy, too.

- You know what Lila did?
- She left everything here.

Even her jewelry.

They left this before they went.

They went to live
in San Giovanni a Teduccio.

A sh*thole...

If you go there, tell Lila

that I don't stop Stefano
from seeing his son,

but he's got too much to do,
he doesn't have time.

Even though he's sorry,
he can't make it.

Tell her also that the Solaras
are dangerous people.

Especially Michele,
he never forgets anything.

Tell her she needs to watch out,
she mustn't trust anyone.

Yes.

Maria's woken up.

NO. 48 VIA VIGLIENA, FOURTH FLOOR

Keep your hands to yourself, pig!

- What's your problem?
- This city will never change.

- Excuse me, Via Vigliena?
- Down there on the left.

Thank you.

Excuse me, who are you looking for?

Scanno. Cerullo.

- You looking for Lila?
- Yes.

Just a minute. Titina!

- What is it?
- This young lady's looking for Lila.

Thanks, Filomena.
Lila's not here.

- Enzo?
- No. Who are you?

I'm a friend, Elena Greco.

- Auntie Lenù!
- So, there you are!

Rinuccio, how you've grown!
Do you remember me?

Yes.

Can I show Auntie Lenù the house?

- So you know this lady?
- Yes.

Go, but hurry up,
the pot's on the stove.

- Yes.
- Bye...

Enzo sleeps here.

- This is the kitchen.
- What else is there?

Mamma sleeps here.
And I sleep here.

- Did you do these drawings?
- Yes.

They're beautiful.

What a lovely house.

- Rinuccio! Rinù!
- We're here.

Come on, it's ready.

- I'll go wash my hands.
- Good boy.

See how clever he is?
He's a born professor.

Come in and eat something
with us if you want.

No, thank you, I'm not hungry.
What time does Lila get back?

- Never before eight.
- And the boy?

He stays with me, I'm always on my own.

We play here, we eat there,
we spend all day together.

- Lila works for the Soccavos.
- Soccavos? With the salami factory?

- I know Bruno, the son.
- They're not nice people.

Father, grandfather, grandson...
They're all scum.

They made money and have forgotten
they were once bums.

- How long will it take to get there?
- Twenty minutes, I'll show you.

SOCCAVO SALAMI FACTORY

- Can I help you, miss?
- I'm looking for Cerullo, I'm a friend.

- She's working, you can't go in.
- I know Bruno Soccavo.

- Bruno Soccavo?
- Yes.

Let me speak to him.

Signor Bruno hardly ever
comes to the factory.

Call him at home, I'll wait here.

I'm a custodian, how can I call
Signor Bruno at home?

Your friend's down there,
right in front of you.

In the stripping room.

Is this the stripping room?

- Who are you looking for?
- Cerullo.

- Cerullo?
- Yes.

- She's in the mixing department.
- They told me she was here.

They moved her
to the mixing department.

- Where's that?
- Right in front of you.

Or try the stuffing room,
they're always moving her.

- Is she a friend of yours?
- Yes.

- Will it offend you if I say something?
- No, go ahead.

She's a pain in the ass.

- What are you doing here?
- Your neighbor told me you worked here.

You look good, Lenù. Let's go outside.

- Your friend can't be here.
- I'll see her out and be right back.

- Well, hurry up.
- I said I'll be right back!

- Did you graduate?
- Yes.

But something even better
has happened.

I wrote a novel
and they're publishing it.

I'm happy for you.

- What have you done to yourself?
- Nothing.

Stripping meat ruins your hands.

- You strip meat?
- They put me where they like.

- Speak to Bruno.
- He's the biggest sh*t of all.

He only comes here
to see who he can f*ck.

- Lila!
- It's the truth.

- You're not doing well here?
- I'm fine.

When they put me in the cold rooms
they pay me ten lire more.

Lila... Miss Oliviero d*ed.

She was ill, it was bound to happen.

- She let me have "The Blue Fairy".
- What's "The Blue Fairy"?

The book you wrote when you were ten.

- That's what we called it.
- That was a long time ago.

- Do you have a fever?
- No.

I was a presumptuous kid.

The story's still beautiful today.

The teacher wrote that in it.

I realized I'd always kept it
in my mind.

- That's where my book comes from.
- Then whoever printed it, is crazy.

- Cerullo! Will you get back to work?
- Coming.

I saw Rinuccio, he's so cute.

Your neighbor seems to be
a good woman.

I'm glad you found him so well.

- Enzo?
- He's kind, he's good.

He's very smart, he knows so many
things. And he studies at night.

- What does he study?
- Mathematics.

- Enzo?
- Yes.

Programming languages.

At night, after the baby
goes to sleep, Enzo studies.

- Do you study too?
- I keep him company.

He's tired and if he's by himself
he falls asleep.

But together it's great.

I'll say something,
he'll say something else.

- Do you like living with him?
- Yes.

Will you have kids?

- We're not together.
- You're not?

I don't feel like it.

- And him?
- He's waiting for me.

- Maybe you see him as a brother.
- No. I like him.

So? I don't know.

You still there, Cerullo?

Watch out for him, he's capable
of saying you stole a mortadella

so he can search you
and put his hands on you.

I'll be back, I don't want to lose you.

I don't want to lose you either.

DIGRESSION

In conclusion, Miss Greco not only
tells a story of female misery,

or of a coarse adolescence,
rudimental, without thought...

The theme is this, apparently,

but the writer, although very young,

is a cultured author.

She is able to govern
her young characters

and the plebeian world
in which they move,

with an often surprising shrewdness,

with a very dense lexicon.

Can you tell us
where you drew your inspiration?

Actually, that's not an easy question.

And so...

I think whoever has written
a book should not say much,

I perhaps...

Good.

The author naturally doesn't wish
to share her process with us.

We critics are the ones
who have to slog away.

Let's see if there are any questions.

Yes.

I don't agree with Professor Tarratano.

This text may have had
a raison d'être ten years ago,

but today, although written by the pen
of a charming young lady,

it seems dated.

Are we still telling stories
about the wretched?

That is, wretched women?

I leafed through the book,
it is a rather naive first attempt.

But I found it rather unpleasant
that to enliven stale material,

the author resorts to some pages...

let's call them Boccaccio-esque.

Or perhaps I should say obscene.

I'm referring, obviously,
to that chapter

about the summer on Ischia
and the carnal v*olence.

You will recall, I trust, how
Manzoni masterfully avoids vulgarity.

"The unfortunate girl replied..."

There, next time, bear that in mind.

- Allow me to say to you...
- Excuse me.

Next time, read something
more recent than "The Betrothed"

and come back
to apologize to Miss Greco.

But for now, I'd like to tell you
what I found unpleasant:

your narrow-mindedness
and the fact that you're not ashamed.

I did not leaf through
Miss Greco's book, I read it.

It is a courageous story,
of great modernity.

So, I should like to give you
some advice.

When you have caught up,
don't leaf through it.

Read it.