THE AVIATOR'S WIFE
or ONE CAN'T THINK OF NOTHING
François, I've found someone for that plumbing job.
Give me the address.
Anne Coudriére...
56 rue Reineken...
near Boulevard Pereire.
- When's he coming? - Tomorrow.
Couldn't it be later?
He'll be busy;
Saturday's his only free day, anyway.
She'll be out.
Take it or leave it.
Let me know by two o'clock.
It won't be easy, letting her know.
She's not on the phone and I shouldn't call her at the office.
I'll leave a note at her place saying I'll be in touch later.
Have you any paper? I've nothing to write on.
I'll see you at a quarter to two at the station buffet
near the rue de Verdun exit...
Don't be later than two.
Call me at the Hotel Rodin, 361 6595. Christian
Hold on, I'll let you in.
Come in. What's the matter?
I didn't mean to wake you.
I won't be in Paris again
for at least a month.
I meant to write to you, but it's difficult.
I'd better just tell you.
I'll be back, but I won't be seeing you.
Even if I could, neither of us would want it.
My wife's moving to Paris and...
She's expecting a baby,
so I'm going back to her.
We love each other.
Congratulations.
- I'm sorry to tell you so... - It's all right.
I'll get dressed. Close the window if you're cold.
Just sit down.
It's cold.
It'll warm up.
Did you do these?
No, my little niece.
I thought maybe you did them as a child.
Mine disappeared long ago.
Sit down.
I must go. Can we meet at lunchtime?
I have a hairdresser's appointment.
Just stay.
Walk with me to the office, if you have time.
Is it cold out?
It's going to be a nice day, apart from some rain later.
Are you sure?
I won't swear about the rain.
- Have you had breakfast? - No. I'll make coffee.
No, I'll do it.
This tap!
You need a plumber.
The pipe needs renewing.
I know. You're in the way, standing there.
Anne,
can I talk to you?
I'd better go.
No, stay.
- I'd like one last kiss. - What's the point?
I can't leave you like this.
You've already left me.
Are you angry with me?
Yes.
No. You're entitled to love whom you like.
No obligation to come and tell me.
You'd rather I'd written?
Walked out without a word?
Maybe I walked out on you. I really enjoyed my holiday
Who were you with?
You don't know him; very good-looking and he loves me.
I'm glad for you, truly.
It's very sweet of you to pay a friendly call at 7 a.m.
I'd left you a note.
I'm always glad to see friends.
You're trembling.
Are you cold?
Yes, you left the window open.
Yes, it's my fault.
Oh, come off it; stop that.
I still love you, you know.
Love me from afar, then.
I intend to.
I can love like that, too, you know.
I needn't always be with someone.
Here, if you want to help...
I like your place,
but it's a pity there's no kitchen.
Who needs one? I have lunch near the office. Evenings I go out,
or settle for a snack.
Don't fuss, Anne. It'll turn up.
If I don't find it now, I never will.
Try again, be systematic.
I already have.
What was it? 7 1 7? Sonnomateg?
It's for you.
Who is it?
Who's calling?
François.
Hang up, say I'm at a meeting.
I'm afraid she's at a meeting.
How long?
Hang up on him.
I marked it ''pink file''
and this is the only pink file there is.
Every time I come back from holiday I find the same mess.
She didn't even put it in my tray.
It's François again.
Hang up, I don't want to talk to him.
He'll only call back.
It's crowded.
I must go in half an hour.
I give up, you try.
It's a waste of time.
Time has flown today.
You seem on edge.
Do I look tired?
Rather refreshed, I'd say.
Strange how that happens when you sleep badly.
But that's not it.
Guess who came to see me.
When?
A Gruyere cheese sandwich, please.
Welsh rarebit and a salad for me.
The platter is good.
No, Welsh rarebit.
Can you bring the sandwich now? Don't wait for the Welsh rarebit.
Don't say that.
She'll take no notice.
Still, you needn't have said it.
Never mind, at least it calms me down.
Come on, guess who came to see me at seven this morning.
Who?
A ghost from the past.
Christian?
Were you expecting him?
No, he was trying to leave a note and he woke me, that's all.
Is he here for long?
He's leaving this afternoon.
He comes back in a month.
He's moving to Paris for good.
You must be pleased.
See how wrong you were to worry?
His wife's coming, too.
She'll keep an eye on him.
I'm afraid so.
He wants her here.
She's having a baby, so I have to accept...
fidelity and conjugal love.
Well, I no longer love him,
if I ever did.
So that's all right.
You're not upset?
Oh, no. I admit I was very close to tears this morning...
seeing him so stern, almost pleased with himself.
- I was pleased, too. Good riddance. - You felt he'd divorce?
No, he never thought of marrying me.
If you love, you marry.
You always generalize.
Most people feel as I do.
I don't understand you.
You complain, yet you won't live with anyone.
Want this?
Loving doesn't mean living together.
Do you really believe the things you say?
You're living in a dream world.
How can you keep a man if he isn't with you?
I don't understand...
or, rather, I understand all too well.
These guys claim to be madly in love...
but go on living with their wives, getting them pregnant.
I'm marrying because I don't want that kind of disillusionment.
I found ''being available'' fun, too, going from man to man.
But you get older.
Speak for yourself. I'm not on the shelf yet.
Marriage is a beginning, not an end.
Some beginning, looking at your Jean-Pierre!
- And what about François? - I'm not marrying François.
Well, to each his own.
But how can you love such different men... at the same time?
Do you really think I'm looking for some particular type?
What interests me isn't whether someone's tall, short, dark or fair.
It's on another level entirely.
So what has François got?
The poor creep isn't everyone's idea of the ideal pick-up.
Talk of the devil!
Am I intruding?
No, I was just leaving.
- Me too, so the table's yours. - I'm not hungry.
You can have my sandwich.
No, thanks.
Who told you I was here?
No one, I tried all the cafés around here.
I must go, I'll be late at the hairdresser's.
I've something to tell you.
Some other time, and don't try to call me at the office.
I've found a plumber for you
and I've got to let him know.
Another day won't matter.
But he's free tomorrow.
I must go to my mother's.
What can we do?
Leave your keys with the concierge.
Fine. Goodbye.
Wait. I'd better be there myself.
No need to bother.
You know it's no bother.
I'll walk with you.
It's on my way.
- Where are you going? - The Metro, to meet my friend.
It's that way.
The Etoile station will do just as well.
I met my friend this morning,
he told me about the plumber.
Hurry and say it's OK.
There's plenty of time.
I came because I know you don't like me calling you at the office.
For something like this, it's OK.
No, but I wanted to tell you...
I came round at eight this morning. I saw you both leave.
I'll tell you about it, but not here, not right now.
It was a shock.
I'll tell you all about it.
I thought he'd gone.
He came back.
Believe me, there's nothing to worry about.
When can we talk about it?
I don't know.
Tonight?
I'm busy tonight.
Tomorrow?
I'll be at my mother's.
Monday evening, then.
I'll be working.
Before that. It won't take hours.
I can't wait till Monday.
- You shouldn't have spied, then! - I was only doing you a favour.
Just trust me. Go away.
Are you seeing him tonight?
Has he been in Paris long?
Go away, or I'll make a scene.
Are you seeing him tonight?
Stop getting at me!
I think I've some rights in the matter.
If you don't trust me, go to hell!
You said you wouldn't see him again!
I did not.
I said he'd gone.
It wasn't likely he'd come back,
but he did.
When?
You wouldn't ask if you felt anything for me.
Do you love him?
Leave me alone; I'll stop seeing you if you go on like this.
Put yourself in my shoes.
Try putting yourself in mine; if you felt for me, you wouldn't ask.
If you want to know, he's leaving this afternoon.
Are you happy now?
Wait a second.
No. See you on Monday.
Have I kept you waiting long?
It's settled.
She's leaving the keys with the concierge.
You've got the address?
That's it, then. I must go now.
Where's the Place des Fìtes?
lt's the other way.
I don't want to go there, I just want to get my bearings.
It's easy enough.
Where are you headed?
Well, I don't know the address.
You don't know, then.
Yes, someone drove me there;
it's near a big avenue.
Plenty of those around here, all alike.
I'll find it. I have a good sense of direction.
I'd never have guessed.
I think it's this way.
Near the town hall?
No need to walk, then; you could have stayed on the bus.
Follow me.
It's nicer in the park, it's such a lovely day.
Do you spend your time in parks?
No, today's an exception.
For me, too. I'd be at school,
but my teacher's on strike.
I didn't feel like staying indoors,
so here I am with my books.
Can you work out of doors?
I work best like that.
In buses, trains, parks...
where it's noisy.
Some people study in cafés,
but not me.
You're a student?
Yes, I'm preparing for an exam,
but I have to work for my living.
You're not working now?
I work nights and sleep days.
You're not sleeping now.
I should be, but I was a bit on edge, so I couldn't.
And right now?
I have this errand to do.
Where are you off to?
It's this way you want to go.
Oh, do as you like.
Shall we sit down?
What about your errand?
There's no hurry. It's only three... no, half past three.
I'm going to sit, anyway.
All right, but not another word.
I'm working.
So am I.
Common law.
Does that interest you?
No, I'm not taking up law.
What about you? German.
It's my second language, after English.
I also do Latin. Did you do German?
No, I hear it's difficult.
Not if you know some Latin.
We weren't to talk.
- Not reading? - How about you?
- I can look up, can't I? - So can I.
- What are you looking at? - And you?
I'm looking at you looking.
- What are you looking at? - Nothing. It's my lookout, anyway.
No, it affects my outlook.
It's not polite when you're talking to someone.
I wasn't talking, you said not to.
So let's both shut up.
I think you've been watching those two since the bus.
Which two?
You know very well.
Don't point at them.
Just let them be.
You're following them.
I know you're following them!
Quiet, they'll hear you.
So far away?
So what, if you're not following them?
I just don't want them to think I am.
Why on earth should they?
Please don't.
Let's move on.
No, let's stay.
Frightened?
I don't like feeling ridiculous.
But if you don't know them...
Now listen.
I am following them, if you want to know.
Are you a detective?
No... well, yes, in a way.
In the police?
No, private... private eye stuff.
With an agency?
Yes, I do enquiries for husbands who suspect their wives.
What an exciting job.
But you told me that you worked at night.
We have no set hours.
- So she's with her boyfriend? - That's a professional secret.
They're not being very amorous.
I have an idea they suspect you're following them.
You think so?
Yes, I think you need further training.
You shouldn't confide in a stranger.
What if I told them who you are?
You wouldn't. Why would you do that?
To make trouble for you.
I don't like cops.
I'm no cop.
What harm has that woman done, anyway? It's her life.
I'm going to tell them.
Let me go! I'll scream!
Stop it, they'll hear you
To hell with it, I'm off!
If you could see your face!
I wasn't really going to tell them.
I don't think they've spotted us.
Would be sacked if they had?
Would the agency sack you?
All right, I lied to you.
I'm no detective.
I knew it was just a dodge for picking up girls.
That's why I teased you.
Picking up girls isn't my style,
especially not today.
You want to know?
I'm following them, but I'm no detective.
What are you, then?
Nothing.
The man is someone I know;
a friend of my girl.
A friend or a lover?
Ex-lover; I thought they'd broken off.
And now you don't?
I have no idea.
What a super story! Tell me more, it's most interesting.
That's all.
Does he know you?
Of course not... I hope.
But you know him?
Just by sight; if it is him.
You're not sure?
Yes, it's him, it must be.
I don't understand. Did you follow him from his place, or what?
No, the extraordinary thing is that I spotted him in a café.
So? I see lots of people I know in cafés.
Yes, but I'd already seen him elsewhere this morning.
And you'll see him again; misfortunes come in threes.
- Don't talk of misfortune. - Why, would you kill him? Beware!
What are you going to do, though?
Nothing.
What's the point of following them, then?
None, really.
I just needed to find something to do this afternoon.
So when I saw them leave the café, I left too, following automatically
and got on the same bus.
And automatically picked me up.
That was a purely accidental encounter.
All right, but what are you going to do?
Nothing, I tell you; there's no point.
Will you tell your girl?
No, the situation is bad enough as it is.
She wouldn't believe me, because he was supposed...
to leave Paris this afternoon.
At what time?
I don't know.
The afternoon isn't over yet.
The ideal thing would be a photograph.
Brilliant! I'll borrow their camera and be right back.
Press this and the picture comes out there.
The light is lovely today.
I'd like that tree in the photo;
it's my tree fetish.
Failed.
She probably felt them out, except for a wisp of hair.
She probably felt they spoiled the picture.
Well, what do I care?
I've got a nice photograph.
You want it?
You're not getting it.
I don't give my picture to just any old wolf.
- I'm not a wolf. - Oh, that yarn about your girl!
Don't kid me that any girl could love you and that guy.
He's not bad; I had a good look.
He's as much like you as that duck is like an orang-utan.
That's what amazes me.
You mean you wouldn't be amazed if he looked like you?
It would sadden me.
This saddens me, but it amazes me as well.
They don't go together at all...
and she told me she didn't love him.
What a woman says...
Maybe my problems bore you?
Not at all, you amuse me.
You think I'm ridiculous?
Yes, people wrapped up in their own problems always seem so.
You mustn't mind that.
Is she pretty?
Who? My girl? Yes, very.
Prettier than her?
They're different.
You won't find ten like her in Paris.
Well, a hundred.
Even a thousand would be something
Like to see her picture?
Yes, she's lovely.
Her eyes are lovely, but so sad.
Is she sad?
Not really.
It just looks that way in photographs.
Actually, she's quite cheerful. She laughs a lot.
As much as me?
Well, it's different.
She's twenty-five.
- You're younger, aren't you? - Quite a bit; I'm twenty.
I'm fifteen.
So I'm half-way between you.
Do you have a boyfriend?
Who is he?
The Prince of Corregidor,
waiting to carry me to his castles in Spain.
No, he's a road-sweeper.
I don't want to talk about it. I haven't one, anyway.
I'm only fifteen, sir.
Do you have a picture?
Of my boyfriend? No picture and no boyfriend.
I bet you have one in your wallet.
I told you, he's a road-sweeper, black and the Muslim religion...
forbids the taking of pictures.
I told you about mine.
You telling me your life story... doesn't mean I must tell you mine.
If my boy cheated on me,
I'd keep my sorrow to myself.
And I wouldn't follow him about.
Or the girl with whom he...
Anyway, you're spinning yarns.
No, that's how it is; I can hardly believe it myself.
You're beginning to make me wonder
whether I'm awake or dreaming.
- You're dreaming. - Could be.
No, I mean you're dreaming up a movie
about a total stranger.
I tell you it's him, but it doesn't really matter if it isn't.
I felt like walking.
It gave me a purpose; then when I met you...
That gave you another purpose.
Well, it did me good to talk. Also...
It's strange. I hardly know you,
yet I can talk to you.
I've never talked about my troubles before.
I don't know what's got into me.
Lack of sleep, probably.
Do you believe me?
What difference does it make?
I'm sure there's truth in what you say,
but you tell a good story, too.
So do I,
but only to people who don't.
Some talk and others listen.
They've gone.
Here they are, they're coming.
Pretend to be talking. What can we talk about?
Spin me another yarn.
What I told you was 100% true.
50%. Didn't you invent anything?
Yes, you did.
Not so loud; talk naturally.
It's you who's not acting natural.
It's your conspiratorial air that makes us conspicuous.
- German is easy, you were saying. - For me, anyway.
Listen. My teacher says I have a very good accent.
He looked at us.
- I'm off. - Let them get ahead.
But we've been spotted...
- He looked at you. - I was bawling in German!
What did it mean?
No idea. Most likely he doesn't know German.
He's from Alsace.
Well, it was a private conversation.
Verheiratet... I really don't know.
They can't have gone beyond the second floor.
What's his name?
Schlosser.
He's a pilot... doesn't live in Paris.
Who are you looking for?
Schlosser.
Not here.
A tall, thin man; an airline pilot.
No pilots here.
He knows a lady who lives here... blonde hair, cut short.
What's her name?
I don't know, but they just went up together.
She had a blue mac and a flowery scarf.
I didn't see them.
What do you want with her? She lost something?
Yes, well, no. Not her exactly.
I'm looking for a girl of my age;
we swapped macs by mistake at the swimming-pool.
I don't know her, but she was seen with this lady.
I can't think of anyone.
That's her mac you're wearing?
That's right.
I don't recognize it.
For sailing, is it?
That's right. Do you go sailing?
No. A blonde? Not a redhead, by any chance?
Well, darkish... I think we must have made a mistake.
Why tell her all that stuff?
To gain her confidence.
We might have got somewhere, but it was no use...
with you looking so shifty.
He could have come down any minute.
Well, what now?
I'm off.
Don't spoil it now that it's getting really thrilling.
What's thrilling about it?
I'm for the bus.
I'm thirsty, let's go to that café.
We might see them come out.
You can do your detecting and follow them.
I have to go at five.
We can watch from here.
Well, now...
What is your theory?
I have no theory.
I have.
What would Sherlock Holmes have done?
That's fiction; this is real life.
Personally, I like life
when it's most like a novel.
What would Sherlock do?
Stupid stuff with his lens, looking for fingerprints.
Not in this case. He'd have deduced.
So have I, and I have a theory.
What is it?
Guess. Deduce.
We've no facts.
We've plenty.
First fact: they don't live there,
either of them.
True, and in fact I've an idea about where they went.
The lawyer's office.
Clever Mr Detective.
I'm not a complete fool.
I'm surprised they didn't have to check with the concierge.
There was a name-plate.
I feel they've been there before.
- I don't know, but... - Yes, they knew the building.
What do you deduce from that?
Why a lawyer?
There could be hundreds of reasons.
Not that many,
and as far as you are concerned...
one seems very likely.
Certain, in fact.
As far as I'm concerned?
Well, your girl, really.
What do lawyers handle a lot of?
Divorce.
They were simply going to get a divorce.
You mean he's going to marry the blonde?
Good luck to him.
You've got it wrong.
The blonde is his wife.
Hence the glum looks.
Hold on.
A man and his wife couldn't go to the same lawyer.
Why not, if it's amicable?
My parents did, it's fashionable.
What are you thinking?
lf he were married, Anne would have told me.
Are you sure?
Anyway, he may never have told her.
That's possible.
Travelling around you can get away with anything.
Would she lie to you?
Anne? Why should she? She's been very frank about him.
Don't make me laugh.
Some things even the sincerest woman won't tell.
She didn't tell you he was back. You found out, didn't you?
l don't know.
What do you mean you don't know? You know she lied, don't you?
How do you like my theory?
You're romancing.
Not entirely.
If I were, you wouldn't care,
but you've gone all pensive.
I think it's fun.
Rather stimulating, in fact.
I was a bit down in the dumps.
You were? Why?
Just because. No particular reason.
But also for very specific reasons.
Can't I have problems, too?
Amorous problems?
You're very inquisitive, sir.
What's your name, by the way?
François. What's yours?
Lucie. Let's call a truce.
You've been asleep for ten minutes.
You're lucky I've been keeping watch.
I'll drink my coffee, that'll wake me up.
How come you know him, but he doesn't know you?
You still don't believe me.
I do. I was just asking.
I happened to see him in the street with Anne.
But didn't get a good look?
Good enough. He was so engrossed in her that I'd plenty of time.
You like spying.
No, I wondered who he was...
her ex,
as she hadn't been seeing him.
So she says.
Are you sure you saw them together this morning?
Where?
I might as well tell you everything.
I work some nights at a post office.
- Which post office? - At the Gare de l'Est.
You know it?
Sure. In fact...
We might have met on my way to school.
I'm at home asleep by that time.
Oh, yes. What are you saying?
I was saying I was too kind-hearted. Anne needed a plumber.
I found someone, brother of a friend
who works at the post office.
I went to Anne's at seven, to put a note under her door.
And walked in on them?
No, but I did see them leave the house at eight.
- They didn't see you? - Of course not.
Poor thing, what a shock for you.
I wouldn't like that.
What did you do?
Nothing. They were some way away.
What now? Not going to kill him, are you?
People do...
but I bet she's the one you want to pop off.
Neither.
She's the one...
how cowardly.
I'd be honourable and kill my rival.
I don't want to kill anyone.
I'd understand, but she didn't love him.
Some girls are like that: love one, love'em all.
For me, though, it's all or nothing.
Same here.
Yet you put up with that guy.
I don't. I thought it was all over,
or I'd never have tried to see her.
Suppose she won't choose between you?
Well, we'll see what happens.
Poor old François is in a stew.
His honey's moved to pastures new.
Reaching higher with a flyer.
Stop it.
Why? I have a gift for poetry.
If I were you, I'd pack in that bird. She doesn't sound much.
You've had it, anyway, if she's had enough.
Women do the deciding.
I chose her. I had my eye on her before she saw me.
A man gets the girl he has his eye on
only if she chooses him.
She picked a replacement because her guy was away.
- Am I being rough? - I chose her!
I don't like being chosen.
Too bad. Girls know what they want.
I don't think Anne does.
She does, though she may not find it.
And she knows it's not you.
What do you know about it?
I told you only what I wanted to.
We agree on some things,
but it's superficial.
I think Anne and I have a deeper relationship.
It's him she loves.
She doesn't love him.
She doesn't love you.
Stop talking nonsense.
You told me so.
Well, I'm telling you different.
Don't get excited. I was only joking.
She loves you. There!
Sure she loves you.
Even well-matched couples don't seem so to me, so maybe you are.
I must go.
Where?
To the Metro.
I'll go with you.
Don't be silly, they might come out any minute.
You can follow them.
They spotted me, anyway.
And what if they separate?
Then you could use help.
But my grandmother is expecting me.
Still, I'd like to know if my theory is correct.
Something will happen to prove it one way or the other.
I'll give you my address.
You can send me a report.
- Nothing's going to happen. - Then report that.
Have you any paper?
Yes, hold on.
No phone number. Mother would object.
Lucie Lavalette.
15 Avenue de Verdun.
Avenue de Verdun? That's close to where I work.
Just put it through the letter-box,
it'll save you a stamp.
Promise not to forget?
You owe me that for my services.
And don't go to sleep again.
Serge, I've had a terrible job getting hold of you.
I've been trying to get you all afternoon.
About tonight, I'm rather tired.
Not ill, just tired.
The girl who filled in while I was on holiday
messed up the filing. I've spent the afternoon
hunting for things.
I've always said you take your job too seriously.
One has to.
Going out will cheer you up.
Why not come?
All right, maybe it will relax me a bit.
But I'm tired... I'd like to rest a little first.
Could we meet at 8:30?
We won't have time to talk before the show,
and you'll leave after.
Sorry, but I don't feel much like talking tonight.
All right, I'll see you then.
Do I look as if I'd been to the hairdresser's?
Not a bit.
I can't understand it.
Other girls look splendid after the hairdresser.
I look just the same.
Well, you don't look as if you're going to the hairdresser.
That's true.
It's not still raining, is it?
See you on Monday.
I hear you're getting married.
To a super airline pilot,
so I'm told to approve the pilot, because then...
I'll be able to come and see you.
Who is it?
Me.
This isn't nice of you.
I said I wouldn't be in.
- But you are. - I'm resting.
Come in, since you're here.
I'm not going to kill you,
I just didn't want you to think that I'm jealous.
I can respect your feelings for him.
Poor François.
You see, Christian...
No, it's the way you spoke to me.
But that's not what I came to say.
Not on my bed, say it from over there.
What is it?
Why so angry?
I just can't stand your lamentations now, that's all.
I'm not lamenting.
OK, I'll go.
Yes, be nice for once. I need to rest before I go out.
You want to sleep?
Just to rest. Sorry, but we're both on edge.
See you on Monday.
I'll come tomorrow morning.
No, you need sleep.
How do you know?
It's obvious.
Don't go tomorrow.
I have to see mother.
Please, this once.
Would you go if you were married?
- With or without husband? - I'm not married or planning to be.
See you on Monday.
This can't go on. I'll transfer to the day shift.
Starting next week.
What about your classes?
At least I'd see you.
If you're doing this to provoke me,
I'll stop seeing you.
I can't go on like this.
- It's no life. - For you it is.
I feel responsible for you.
If you give up your studies I'll stop seeing you.
- That's blackmail! - You're the blackmailer.
For your sake I hope you'll change your mind.
For goodness sake go or stay. I hate you hanging over me.
One kiss.
No, if I give an inch...
I'm in horrible mood, you know.
And I deserve an explanation, you know.
Of what?
I don't owe you any explanations.
Even if I were your wife, I'd refuse.
I've a perfect right to see who I like whenever I like.
You come here at ungodly hours.
You pester me on the phone.
You turn up at lunch and nearly make me late.
Now I'm trying to rest and you walk in.
Think of others sometimes,
you're not the only one with problems.
You always want to decide things, give me a little time.
How can you do this to me?
If you'd let me talk...
You've done nothing but talk, but you don't say anything.
I'm saying I love you.
Your attitude grieves me.
All that's wrong with my attitude is that I shouldn't have let you in.
Think of me a little, instead of being sarcastic.
Think of me.
Making scenes won't get you anywhere.
You would turn anyone against you.
You make me laugh.
Listen, Anne...
What?
It's quite natural...
What? Fussing about nothing.
Nothing? Really?
Maybe not, from the way you go on about it.
- Listen, Anne. - Is that all you can say?
Just listen, for God's sake.
You really hurt me.
I can do it myself.
Think less about me and more about your position.
All right.
We can't go on like this. It's no good for either of us.
Try to live your own life instead of getting wrong ideas about us.
It's just that I like being with you.
So either I work nights and you spend yours as you like...
or I can go on days and we could live like a normal couple.
Perfectly normal, even down to arguments.
- Normal couples live together. - That's out of the question.
If you want to live with a girl, find someone else,
not me.
I tried it for three years.
Not again, not just now.
- When, then? - I don't know.
Probably never.
Won't you ever marry?
I'm not planning to.
Even then, you don't have to live together.
You do. The law stipulates a marital home.
Well, they won't jail me for not living with my husband.
He could divorce you.
I'll find someone who won't.
- He'll have to be rich. - Why?
Two small apartments cost no more than a big one.
I like this place of mine.
I won't give it up
to share a luxury apartment.
Even if you love the guy?
That's immaterial.
For me, love isn't cohabitation.
I hate anything clinging.
It's absurd, because here I am with the most clinging guy in the world.
Today, maybe, but some days we hardly see each other.
That's how it should be,
absence makes the heart grow fonder.
So why see each other?
Understand one thing, François.
If you were free every night, we'd have parted already.
Because I know you: you'd have wanted to move in.
Since it's occasional, I tolerate you.
Rejoice, though.
No one else has been in this bed.
No one?
I used to go to Christian's hotel.
You'll say I'm spying, but last night...
If you spy, do the job properly.
You didn't see him arrive, did you?
He came to see me at 7 a.m.
He must be crazy.
You came then, too.
To leave a note.
Him, too.
But I heard him as he was leaving
and I invited him in.
We had a quick breakfast,
he hates me to be late.
If he's coming every day, he ought to get a car.
Are you seeing him tonight?
No, he went back to Frankfurt.
When?
This afternoon.
When are you seeing him?
So don't tell me.
Poor François.
You can't imagine, wrapped up in your own little problems...
that I could possibly have any.
You're so sad, so angry, so upset, yet what's happened to you?
Nothing serious.
Your girl has remained true to you,
sleeping soundly in her own bed.
She's the one to despair.
Yet instead of comforting her in her misery, you insult her.
And you say you love me.
What did he do to you?
What did he do?
He said a last goodbye.
He ditched you?
In favour of his wife.
You didn't say he was married.
It didn't matter, or so I thought.
He said they were separated,
but she's expecting a baby.
Since when?
What difference does it make?
He won't see you again?
Neither should you.
I don't like him doing that to me...
after vanishing for three months.
I don't like you making a fuss into the bargain.
Or that cretin Marcillac babbling to me on the bus home.
And tonight... why didn't I refuse to go out with Carrére?
I'm much too nice.
I spend my life doing things I don't have to.
It's so pitiful that it's laughable.
Aren't you laughing?
I'd like to be alone for a bit.
François... don't go.
Stay.
It's all right, Anne, I'm here.
I'm sick of it all.
Lie down.
I must look a fright.
You look lovely.
You'll be late for your date.
I don't care.
Actually, I set the alarm for 7:30.
I'll stay with you anyway.
I can say that I'm sick.
No, I can't get out of my date.
Carrére isn't much fun,
but at least he isn't after me.
Why he takes me out...
He likes to be seen with a pretty girl.
But we never see anyone.
Why do you go?
Not just because he invites me.
It's nice to go out sometimes with someone
who isn't really after me.
It seems there aren't many women after him,
so it's something.
You know, he gets nothing out of me at all.
To someone not very attractive... your presence is something...
enough to make me jealous.
You'd be jealous of my dentist,
if I'd one.
A real man-eater, aren't I?
Not in the least.
You're so sweet.
Why did I play you up like that?
I think it calmed me down.
And that's the end of Christian.
Do you love him?
No.
Did you love him?
- Not really. - You had every right to.
Everything is my right and it's not up to you to judge me.
I was in love with him,
full of crazy ideas.
I imagined he'd come back...
and carry me off like Prince Charming.
I cherished the idea,
even if I didn't really believe or want it.
I can understand your being sad, because I am, too.
Then this morning...
the fairy-tale of my dreams came true.
The note under my door. Then him.
The dream in flesh and blood.
Simply to say:
"I love my wife."
What I don't understand is
why he disappeared...
why he waited three months to come and tell you.
I don't know.
Reconcilliations take their time, I suppose.
He was switched to another route, too, away from Paris.
Next month he'll be with his old flight
and with his wife.
Two girls in the same city simply isn't on.
- She's quite pretty, you know... - His wife?
Do I know her?
No, but I've a picture.
Show me.
He wasn't keen on me having this photo.
I couldn't understand why.
This morning he told me it was her in it,
there on the right.
She's very different from you.
You think so?
Yes, even if you bleached your hair.
She's on the extreme right, not on his right.
In green?
Who's the blonde, then?
I don't know.
You're sure that's her?
Yes, why all the questions?
You'd make a good cop.
Or maybe not: you always miss the point.
He could tell you anything and you'd have no way of proving it.
So what, since he's ditching me.
I'd be more inclined to blame him for being hurtful.
He always puts things so bluntly.
He could have let me down lightly.
But he spun a yarn about a lawsuit with his sister.
He's suing his sister?
No, they're suing somebody. Why?
No reason.
What are you thinking about?
Nothing.
You're brooding over something.
- What is it? - Nothing important.
What is it?
Don't you ever think of nothing?
I'm always thinking something.
That something being nothing.
What is it?
Stop needling me.
If you talk about something you give it importance it doesn't have.
You see, this afternoon...
I couldn't sleep, so I went for a walk and...
And what?
Nothing. I was just thinking...
About you, him, making up stories.
Imagining him carrying me off
to the South Seas.
Something Iike that.
What eIse?
I forget.
ReaIIy?
Thinking the kind of thoughts...
you have when you're unhappy...
and jeaIous, too.
You started to teII me something, then stopped. What?
I've told you.
Come on, tell me what it was.
Do you really want to know?
I picked up a girl in the park.
You waste no time, do you?
Incredible!
They say women act up.
Yet here you come weeping in my arms,
claiming I've deserted you.
No, it was she who picked me up,
thinking I was following her.
Weren't you?
Of course not.
That's the last thing I'd been thinking of.
Why? There's plenty of fish...
No, what I was thinking was that I wasn't interested...
in anyone but you.
Which didn't stop you from talking to her.
Was she pretty?
Don't tell me you didn't notice.
It's not the same thing, she was just a kid of fifteen.
She was skipping classes.
She was rather fun, actually.
Ah, rather fun,
whereas I'm no fun at all.
I'm too old for you.
Get yourself another girl.
Go and find your little bird.
She doesn't interest me.
She ought to.
- Did you make a date? - No.
Have you her phone number?
Just her address.
Will you write to her?
Are you crazy?
Are you jealous?
Me, jealous?
If that's what you wanted, you're going the wrong way about it.
I was just trying to be honest.
I didn't have to tell you about her. She means nothing to me.
I was upset and it was someone to talk to.
What did you talk about?
Nothing much, this and that.
The weather?
No fear!
Love?
No, well, just in general.
May I hear what she thought?
Just kid stuff, really.
Oh yes? Such as?
I don't know...well...
that girls do the deciding.
Do you believe that?
I don't believe it, either.
I'd like to.
You decide too much.
Me? No, I don't.
I can't even decide to put you out.
Well, I'm off.
Have you eaten?
No, I'll get a sandwich.
Take some grapes.
Well, I'm ready.
Like that?
Why not?
I do hate leaving you,
knowing you're going out with someone else.
He's harmless.
Yes, but he'll be with you, I won't.
See you on Monday.
Right, six o'clock.
And François, don't forget to write to your little friend.
A long letter, she'll love that.
They did go to the lawyer's,
but the woman was his sister. We never thought of that.
See you sometime. François.
Paris has charmed me
Paris disarmed me
Turning all my hopes to alarms
I live alone under my garret roof
From friends and strangers I remain aloof
Yet still
I feel proud of my solitude
As on the hardships of life I brood
Life in the city so vast and wide
Constantly buffeted by wind and tide
It's a struggle for survival renewed each day
With cruel destiny refusing to point the way
Now the dark and malevolent night
Drives all ease from anguished sight
And muffled roars still prowl the street
For the heart of Paris never ceases
to beat