Put your cardigans on.
The house is freezing.
You'll catch your death of cold.
We're too thirsty!
She's deaf.
- Too thirsty. - Too thirsty, Aunty!
Drink when you've cooled down.
Thérèse, tell her.
What will your dad say if you catch cold?
He won't want you spending vacations here.
- Want me to read to you? - No, that's boring!
L'Espérance, Summer 1922
Stop moving.
- Why? - It's too hot.
- Coming back tomorrow? - Not every day.
- Why not? - We'd end up hating each other.
And my brother's coming from Paris.
Thérèse!
Dinner time!
I'm saying goodbye to Anne.
Know what everyone says?
My brother'll marry you in a few years' time.
April 1928
Careful of the ferns.
It hasn't rained in ages.
See the sheepfold over there?
- La Bienvenue? - That's it.
Well, from there...
to L'Espérance,
there are 5,000 acres of pines.
1,300 from my stepfather and 3,700 from my mother.
And from La Bienvenue to Argelouse, there are mine.
Larroque pines.
11,000 acres when we're married.
Mrs. Bernard Desqueyroux.
Yes.
Soon.
I'm marrying you for your pines, too.
I'm not ashamed of that.
Is that wrong?
Certainly not.
My father says I have property in my blood.
You love my pines, too.
Only natural.
So many ideas in your head.
Wrong ideas?
Like everybody,
a few wrong ones.
It's up to you to get rid of them.
I feel I belong here,
huddled up against you.
I can't wait.
The Azevedo clan.
He's a good singer.
- The boy has TB. - Tuberculosis?
Yes, his sister died of it. It runs in the family.
Azevedo is a Portuguese name?
Maybe.
They say they're not Jewish, but they look it.
I hope you're not going too far with Thérèse.
"Too far"?
Don't play games with her.
I'm marrying her, not playing games!
- Can I eat something? - At this time?
What time is it? I'm hungry.
I'll ask Balionte to make an omelet. Balionte!
I agree she's upright and has a sense of family,
but she thinks too much.
And she smokes like a chimney.
The father's stubborn, like all radicals.
His ideas are so wrong.
Her mother was religious, but Thérèse was
so young when she died.
Thérèse is like her father:
too strong-minded.
But he has influence.
He has a future in politics.
But I can't
get used to your future wife being richer than us.
- If your husband spent less... - Don't!
You'll spoil your appetite.
Me? Never!
Let's go?
Let's go.
See you for dinner?
No, your husband annoys me.
C'mon, dogs.
Hello, Miss Anne. What a fine outfit.
Hello, future son-in-law. I like the sound of that.
Hello, future father-in-law.
Where are you going?
We have guns.
Where do you think?
Fetch.
Give.
Very nice.
- Let's give it to Thérèse. - Yes, you go.
Don't you want to see your fiancée?
I see her everyday.
I'll stay here. The wood pigeons arrive tomorrow.
- The first ones? - Yes.
Is it satin?
Silk satin.
- You'll look fashionable. - I know.
I'm not sure about satin. A wedding's about tradition.
Muslin may suffice... A storm's coming!
You'll sleep here and don't argue.
What's that?
Anne's sleeping here, Aunty.
Poor thing. That's nothing, it's just the storm.
Aren't you scared?
What of?
Next month, when you're married to Bernard...
Sleeping with your brother every night?
Yes.
- Doesn't that scare you? - No.
I never think about that.
- Liar! - I don't.
I swear, I never do.
Some say it's very pleasant. Others say...
Yes, opinions differ.
I don't think I'd like it.
How do you know?
Did you try?
At the convent, some girls do it to themselves.
Well, so what?
- It's a sin. - Maybe it's a pleasant sin.
- Didn't you ask them? - No.
Don't make fun of me.
My head's full of ideas.
That's what scares me.
Not sleeping with Bernard.
When I'm married, my ideas will go back in order.
I don't know what order, but in order.
Marriage will save me, Annette.
It'll save me from all the disorder in my head.
I want to be at peace.
I choose peace.
Peace isn't interesting.
In novels, love isn't synonymous with peace.
They talk about ecstasy,
rapture...
amorous transports...
You're my little sister.
My little girlfriend.
You said she was pretty.
Hello, Thérèse.
Bernard... Bernard!
May 1928
My darling little Anne,
We're staying in this chic Black Forest hotel
where your parents spent their honeymoon.
Maybe that's when you were conceived.
The staff call me Madame,
but they can't pronounce Desqueyroux.
You should see it in the sun.
We lose money at the casino
and we eat cabbage and sausage and drink mineral water.
Go on!
Good dog! Bring it back.
Come here.
You know I don't like to write.
But I promised I would. I'm forcing myself
out of love for you.
I miss you, my serious girl,
as I've met someone extraordinary
and you can't see how happy I am.
Remember the boat the Azevedos bought for their son?
Hello.
I'm Jean Azevedo
from Valméja.
I know you.
Will you help me?
Thérèse.
My God...
It's pounding.
Just as well. What is it?
I don't know.
I feel dizzy.
I nearly fainted.
It's scary.
Could be the food.
Reading that letter again?
There we are.
It's happened to me, too.
I also have a man in my life.
You know this joy with your husband, too.
"Mr. Bernard Desqueyroux. Personal."
It must be from your mother.
A mother and son's secrets can't vex you.
This is more interesting. Three letters from your sister.
The girl who hates to write!
Here's your "personal" letter.
Anne's done it this time.
Mother says she's smitten with Azevedo.
It seems serious.
She says she'll marry him when she comes of age.
Listen to this.
"She's gone crazy.
I hope the Deguilhems don't hear of it. Their son might break it off."
Just think.
- Open those letters. - No.
Don't make things more difficult.
What are you waiting for?
For you to go.
Listen to what Mother wrote.
"I'm counting on Thérèse. We all are.
She has so much influence over her. Only she can reason with her."
See, you're our salvation, my dear.
Don't laugh.
It's a disaster...
if Anne doesn't marry Deguilhem.
The Azevedos are much richer.
- They make St. Emilion. - They're Jewish.
An old Bordeaux family.
You argue...
for the sake of it. I'll get used to it.
Anne with an Azevedo...
Riddled with TB!
What did your father and grandpa die of?
And Mother? What did Mother die of?
TB and syphilis plagued our families, too.
You're going too far.
Even if you're just trying to annoy me.
Another cigarette?
Our families are very good at sweeping dirt under the rug.
Without the servants, we'd never know a thing.
I won't respond to you.
It's best to ride it out.
I know it amuses you,
but I warn you, jokes like that won't wash at home.
Thérèse.
I think we'll go home if that's alright.
Let's go whenever you like.
My parents are keeping me locked up.
I'll wait for as long as it takes.
I'm not afraid.
Nothing can keep Jean and me apart.
Mr. Hermann,
I'll need two tickets to Bordeaux for the morning.
- Certainly, sir. - Thank you.
I discovered L'Espérance thanks to you.
You chose the place of my joy
where I feel such happiness.
I can't see Jean anymore.
They keep me prisoner.
They think you'll side
with them and I'll heed you. I know you're on my side.
Hurry back, Thérèse. I'll explain everything.
I'm happy yet I suffer. I'm happy to suffer because of Jean.
He writes he's in pain, too.
Write back soon to say what you think of Jean.
Isn't he the most handsome man in the world?
I'm lucky.
To have a wife like you.
This business with Anne is very alarming,
but I must say I'm proud.
Very proud...
that my family is turning to my wife for help.
Now then...
There's Rhine wine.
I've never drunk any.
Well, it's not cheap.
If you ask me...
it's overrated.
Can't beat Bordeaux.
A friend used to say: "Not bad,
but I prefer wine!"
- Are you there? - Of course I am.
You don't look it.
Penny for your thoughts.
I think that...
I know this happiness, too, with my husband.
That's right. We're good together.
I can't wait to get back to our nest.
Not eating that?
No.
What's wrong, my love? Is it the heat?
Feeling sick?
Already?
No, I'm not pregnant, Bernard.
I'm thinking about
Anne's affair...
and the family.
The family, above all else.
If Jean Azevedo asked me to go with him, I would.
We stop at the edge of the ultimate caress,
through his willpower, not my resistance.
He resists, I want to go further.
He's proud of braking on the slopes
down which others slide helplessly.
July 1928
No, I have no mail for you, Miss Anne.
Thank you, my good man.
Two letters from Mr. Azevedo!
Again!
The postman gave them to me quite willingly.
It's unwise.
He might talk.
Not with what we have on him.
- Some wine, Mother? - No, thanks.
Serve Mr. Larroque.
- Some soup? - No, thank you. Never soup.
Some soup, Miss Anne?
Excuse me.
Tell me, my dear fellow,
your miraculous Mr. Briand,
will he ever start
governing France intelligently?
What's the problem?
He will bring peace with Germany.
Change the subject.
The pines you helped us buy.
If we carry on like that, our families
will own a sixth of the county.
Bravo, Larroque.
We don't share the same views,
but our properties
go well together.
Life isn't worth living if one doesn't own land.
I raise my glass
to democracy.
We're among family, Papa.
I think I prefer it when we argue.
No, thank you.
Make an effort, Anne, please.
Go on.
Where are you going?
Leave her to it.
Agree to go to Biarritz with your parents
just for their peace of mind.
While you're away, I'll talk to Jean Azevedo.
I'll explain the situation to him.
That you're a prisoner,
that you love him, that you must both be patient.
I can't leave him.
What difference does it make? You can't see him.
But I know he's there.
Valméja's not far.
You haven't even had any letters.
It's strange he hasn't written, isn't it?
Yes, I don't understand it.
He's leaving soon, too.
He'll resume his studies in Paris.
Why is this Jean Azevedo so special
compared to other men?
You can't imagine.
I can't explain. It's...
hard to put into words.
Nothing would bar me from the man I loved.
If I go, will you see him?
I told you I would.
And give him my letters?
Will you tell me his words?
Yes, I will.
Do you promise?
You love me at least.
Did I just feel something?
Yes.
It's been moving for a few days.
Thérèse will talk to this boy and make him drop it.
Goodbye, son.
Good bye.
You can count on me, darling.
It'll all be fine.
Godspeed, little sister. You're doing the right thing.
Who are you talking to?
October 1928
I can't feel my feet.
You're only in four month.
Women suffer for men's pleasure.
You'll be tired out. Exhausted.
What would you know,
"Miss" Clara?
There it is.
I looked all over for it.
You must walk.
A pregnant woman has to. Did she eat?
Yes, "she" ate.
Put your slippers on.
How do you feel?
Alright.
Good.
Do you want me to stay a while?
What's with you, dogs!
Calm down!
They can't keep still.
Nor can you, Bernard. Go and hunt.
Wood pigeons don't wait.
C'mon, dogs!
Look at these beauties.
We netted them.
A half-dozen.
Nice and plump.
- I didn't forget this time. - Thanks.
- Get them off there. - You'll be glad to eat 'em.
"October 30, St. Wilfrid's Day." Who's that? We're not German.
October 30, Thérèse.
- So? - It's the end of the month.
Mother's still expecting news from you.
It's dragged on too long.
You must talk to him before he returns to Paris.
"He"? You mean Jean Azevedo?
Yes, that boy.
Then, use his name, Jean Azevedo.
It's pounding.
Is that normal?
I don't know. You know what you're feeling.
Just 'cause your father died of angina...
Oh, don't make such a face.
It's impossible at your age.
You're funny. Are you afraid of dying?
Of course I am.
Oh...
Want some valerian?
Yes, please.
- Thanks. - Don't mention it.
Why not go to Bordeaux to see Berthier?
You think it's serious?
You should go to Bordeaux.
Oh, sorry.
That's alright. Come in.
Please sit down.
I'd rather stand.
You're Jean Azevedo.
You're Mrs. Desqueyroux.
Thérèse, Anne's sister-in-law.
Pleased to meet you.
Anne told me a lot about you.
You think I'll marry her?
She's mad about you.
Anne is a delicious girl. I'll have sweet memories of her.
But we never mentioned marriage.
It's not forbidden to have fun.
I live with Anne.
She's like a sister to me.
For her, it was far more than a bit of fun.
I'll speak frankly.
Anne said you're not easily shocked.
I don't know yet.
You're not like people here. She told me.
One can talk to you... talk about important things.
With me, Anne no doubt experienced the only moments of passion in her life.
How do you know?
I just do. So do you.
You know what I'm talking about.
The life which awaits her
and every woman here.
A small-town existence.
Perfectly dismal, perfectly neat.
Perfectly conventional and settled.
We're too young to settle down.
There are hunters out.
They won't find us.
- Why not? - Because I have to go.
Have you read Gide's "Fruits of the Earth"?
"Let every emotion become an intoxication to you.
If what you eat fails to intoxicate, you're not hungry enough."
"A dramatic existence rather than tranquillity."
Of course you read it.
Desire...
Pleasure...
Gide portrays it so well. He searches for God, too.
Faith is a convenience.
No!
It's much more complicated.
Purity is beautiful, too.
I don't remember having been pure.
I shocked you at last!
- No... - Admit it.
No, surprised me. I'm not used to it at home.
We never discuss our feelings.
What do you discuss, then?
The weather, hunting,
the latest gossip. Or we avoid the issue.
We're good at avoiding the issue.
How do you stand it?
A woman like you?
Well, then...
Goodbye, Mrs. Desqueyroux.
What about Anne?
We haven't discussed Anne.
You should write to her.
A break-up letter.
A gentle one,
but break up with her.
Nothing wrong with me.
Nothing whatsoever.
- You're hurting me. - Sorry.
Just a bit anemic.
Just think, anemia, me! That's a good one.
Berthier wants to treat me with arsenic.
I'll send Balion to the pharmacy.
Appetite's the main thing.
I just saw Jean Azevedo.
A letter's perfect.
He didn't make a fuss?
No, he doesn't want to marry her.
And you believed him?
You're very naive, my dear.
An Azevedo won't marry a La Trave!
It's just that he realizes it won't happen.
They're smart, they don't risk losing.
Your soup's delicious!
There's no point shouting.
Look at her and articulate.
Your soup's delicious.
I'll make it again, then.
So, what's he like?
Who?
This Azevedo who won't marry my sister.
What does he look like?
He's a young man.
Eat up. You have to eat for two now.
You're doing that!
That's true. My appetite's come back.
Seeing Berthier made me feel better. Incredible, eh?
Incredible...
"Soon, Anne, I'll just be a pleasant memory,
which will make you smile, I hope.
Each of us must now
take our place in the world.
Yours..."
No...
"Yours" is too cold.
"Jean."
I'll just sign "Jean". That's better.
I'll make a clean copy later.
I'll send it first thing tomorrow.
What do you think of it?
I think it's...
terrible.
If I were Anne...
But you're not Anne.
She's a simple soul.
She'll soon get over it.
And gladly so, I assure you.
One, two, three...
Four... And one for luck.
It's good for my health.
I'm going to Paris tonight. I'll miss you, Thérèse.
I'll miss our conversations and walks.
See you in a year's time. I'm sure you'll have freed yourself by then.
You left because of the silence.
The silence of Argelouse which doesn't suit Parisians.
Now that you've gone, I'm entering an endless tunnel.
A land without roads or paths.
You didn't answer my last letter.
No doubt because a provincial woman isn't worth bothering with
and a pregnant woman isn't a pleasant memory.
What are you doing?
Writing?
I'm coming.
You go to bed too late.
I can't sleep, anyway.
It's the baby...
It must be.
See you upstairs.
Goodnight, Bernard.
Perhaps, with the distance, you consider me dull.
A fool who is held back by attitude and circumstance.
I ordered the books you liked. I didn't understand them.
You see? A fool.
Where's Jean?
Have you come from St. Clair on foot?
There's no-one at Valméja.
He's gone.
I don't believe you.
That letter - they couldn't be his words. I know his words.
- You dictated it. - I didn't.
You betrayed me to save me!
You adopted the family attitude fast!
Worse than my mother!
She never claimed to be emancipated
or a free spirit!
You disgust me!
- Where are you going? - Valméja!
To wait for him!
He went to Paris four days ago.
Lies!
Wait for me!
Stop that!
Down! I said, down!
Leave me alone!
Don't touch me!
I'm going to Paris. It's not that big. I'll find him.
What are you doing here?
That's enough! Leave her!
- I'll stop her running away! - She's hurt.
Go to bed, Thérèse! I know what I have to do.
Know what we do to stray dogs?
We lock 'em up for days. They scratch at the door till they learn!
You don't scare me or anyone!
Quiet!
Look at your husband's family attitude!
Quiet! Get in!
Upstairs!
Go upstairs.
Not going for a walk?
Yes.
It's good for the baby.
I do the walking, not the baby.
Shall I come?
No need... thanks.
Bernard worships me like a sacred vessel.
Only the fruit of my womb counts.
I feel like I'm ceasing to exist as an individual.
One, two, three, four.
December 1928
It was "deemed preferable", for my safety and above all, my baby's,
that I give birth at St. Clair at my in-laws,
watched over by the holy family itself.
We went over to the Chesnechals' land.
We were with Balion. We see two or three partridges.
Got 'em!
Just like that.
Then, what do we see behind us? A wild boar.
We let it go. We could have had it.
Then, we went for the pheasants. Show him.
She must have wind. Bernard did.
At the beginning, he cried all the time.
She didn't want my milk today or yesterday. I'll switch to a bottle.
Play, Anne. You're so slow.
She needs changing.
Balionte!
Want me to take her?
If you like.
Now then...
Balionte!
- She's happier with you. - She prefers me.
It's rather awkward.
She's so pretty.
Balionte!
August 1929
1,200 acres yesterday.
Can you imagine it?
The Balisac pines almost burned, too.
One, two, three, four.
Not out loud. It's annoying.
Lucky there wasn't a north wind.
The villages never burn. Strange, isn't it?
Fire always chooses the pines.
Never people.
- Are you alright? - It's racing.
The fire's got you on edge.
Shut the window. The smell is unbearable.
We'll die of heat.
If only it rained...
It'll never rain.
Never again.
Why say that?
Your jokes are a pain. It's no joking matter.
I know, Bernard.
It's far away.
No, it's coming nearer. Look!
It's reached Hostens.
We're trapped
if the fire's spread to the south.
Ring the bell.
No, not the bell!
It scares people. It doesn't help.
It's worse than in '21.
Do you remember?
We lost everything as far as La Bienvenue.
Don't move, I'll go.
No, it went even further.
A third of Deguilhem's pines!
That's right, Mrs. Deguilhem never got over it.
Mind if I change her?
Not at all.
We're not safe, either.
With all this, I forgot my drops.
One, two,
three, four.
Bernard, the mayor's coming.
- It's not far. Ring the bell. - I told you.
How far?
Don't beat about the bush!
No-one listens to me!
It could be closer than Hostens.
Let's go!
The smell!
Shut the windows.
Even if we shut them,
it'll still smell of burned resin.
My God!
I thought I'd die of heat!
You were right not to get agitated.
It's over by Mano. It's not coming this way now.
I'm so thirsty!
Did I take them?
One, two, three,
four...
You never get worked up.
It hurts.
Did he eat anything unusual today?
Nothing special. Fresh almonds.
Oh, yes, fresh almonds...
It's the fire at Mano. It's the agitation.
We were all so worried.
And the terrible smell made him sick.
Thérèse… Thérèse!
I'm going to vomit.
Six,
seven,
eight,
nine...
Where are you going?
I want an omelet.
Eggs? After two days in bed and on a diet!
Exactly. I need to build up my strength.
Mother was right. The fire made me sick.
I forgot my drops.
- I was about to do it. - I'll do it.
Now... One,
two, three, four.
Yes, I count out loud.
I'll get Balionte to make an omelet.
Thank you, darling.
Mr. Desquezroux is no better, I see.
- How's little Marie? - Fine.
She's very healthy, my little one.
Good, good.
I hope Mr. Desqueyroux has a speedy recovery.
Thank you. Goodbye, Mr. Darquey.
It's not typhoid. His pulse is racing.
He has a slight temperature.
Inﬂuenza.
What else can it be?
He's struggling. We should send for a specialist.
He's a friend. He'll be offended.
That's not what matters, but it'll scare Bernard.
She's right. That'd be worse.
Thér… Thérèse!
Oh, Lord...
Mrs. Desqueyroux...
Madame!
- Do you hear me? - She's coming round.
You gave us a fright.
She looks after me night and day.
She doesn't eat or sleep.
Orange wine.
I made it last summer. It'll buck you up.
I'll have a drop, too. I'm so shaken.
Thank you. I feel alright now.
You're exhausted. You need to rest. You can't carry on like this.
I hope it's not influenza.
Maybe we should consult a specialist.
We returned to Argelouse.
The air was cleaner and it was nearer Bordeaux's hospitals.
My writing's been forged.
I wouldn't have prescribed this much.
And here?
Here?
The poor boy can't feel a thing.
And here?
When did his legs stop moving?
Since this morning.
A word, please.
These forged prescriptions,
the lack of feeling...
Don't leave him alone with his wife.
You heard, Balion?
- Should I take you back to Bordeaux? - I'll do it.
Stay here.
Until help arrives, make sure that Mrs. Desqueyroux doesn't see him.
Yes, but how can I do that?
Easy for you to say.
You should leave the room, ma'am.
You should leave the room.
Wait!
She can't go to sleep without it.
A clinic in Bordeaux?
Why not Paris while they're at it?
What'll they find there?
Aren't our doctors any good?
Are you hungry, honey?
Pédemay's suing you for forging prescriptions.
How could you...
How could you do such a thing to us?
Hello, Balionte.
Hello.
Thank you.
- Hello, Balion. - Hello, Mrs. Thérèse.
My husband's expecting me.
What's that?
It's Mary.
Mary, like your name.
You can let me in. I assure you, nothing will happen.
Hello.
You may go, Balion.
Sit!
I don't think we should call each other intimately anymore.
That makes you smile?
No, Bernard.
You're right about the "intimate" part.
Have you prepared your defence?
No.
Of course not.
We'll do it together, but tell me everything.
Everything?
Everything your lawyer tells you.
- I have a lawyer? - Yes.
Mr. Duros.
We trust him completely.
"We" ?
Me, the family, your father.
You'll move in with him.
- With my father? - Yes, in Libourne.
You can't live here.
- I could stay at Aunt Clara's. - Good.
It's nearer the law court and Bordeaux.
Right.
Is that all?
Can I kiss Marie goodbye?
It's better she doesn't see you.
- Good night. - Good night, Mrs. Thérèse.
Good night, Anne.
Thank you, Balionte.
There... She's gone now.
My son's a saint. A saint!
He'll protect the family at all costs.
"On the road, I met a stranger who wasn't from Argelouse.
He asked me to get his prescription
while I was at the pharmacy.
I didn't know it was forged.
He owed the pharmacist money, so he didn't want to go in there.
I didn't know the man.
He was dressed like a farmer."
Good God, Thérèse!
Find a better story!
For our sake!
It's a cock-and-bull story!
Pédemay pressed charges.
A forged prescription.
He's covering himself.
If he doesn't drop the charges, we've had it.
We're dead.
It was too dark.
I couldn't see his face.
He didn't say which farm he was from.
Why did you accept his prescription?
You knew nothing of him.
I felt sorry for him.
I agreed
out of Christian charity.
The next evening, he came for the medicine.
No-one but you saw him that evening?
No, Your Honor, no-one.
Sorry.
Very well. I'll see Mr. Desqueyroux tomorrow.
- Were you informed? - Yes, Your Honor.
Tell your husband he mustn't be afraid to say
you told him of this stranger's prescription.
Are you listening?
Yes, Mr. Duros, of course I am.
You have to say I told you about this man's prescription
and his coming here the next day to pick it up.
Mr. Duros thinks, you shouldn't say you blamed me.
He's right. We mustn't overdo it.
The story should be rock-solid, simple, credible.
No fuss. Keep it banal and everyday.
We mustn't overdramatize it.
What's the judge like?
Logical.
Method, reason, analysis...
- He likes simplicity. - Like I said:
Rock-solid, simple, credible.
We'll give them an unembellished story.
Simple doesn't mean simplistic.
- He's intelligent, sophisticated. - Right.
Yes, come in.
- 'Evening, sir. - 'Evening, Balionte.
- It's time for Marie's bath. - Go ahead.
Marie, come along.
Come on.
- No! - Yes, come along.
Look at those fine, rosy cheeks!
Even though she hasn't been out. It's been raining so.
You'd like to go outside and play with the dogs, eh?
You're tired, I'll go.
- See you tomorrow. - Right.
- Thérèse? - Yes?
Duros still hasn't sent me his first invoice.
I'd rather pay in instalments rather than in one go.
He doesn't come cheap.
Tell him to send it to me right away. Don't forget.
I won't forget.
What will he say?
I'm tired.
What will Bernard say?
You didn't argue, did you? Now's not the time.
My wife mentioned the prescription that night.
You didn't call her foolish?
Accepting such a thing from a stranger.
I blame her for showing too much pity,
for others' misfortune.
His distress must've moved her.
She should've been more prudent...
Drink some water, Mr. Desqueyroux.
Forgive me.
I never counted my drops.
I must've got the dose wrong.
I think it went well.
But you can never tell.
You can never tell.
Tell Balionte to make me a snack. I'm hungry and thirsty.
You're thirsty?
I'll tell Balionte.
- 'Night, Bernard. - 'Night, Thérèse.
7th December 1929 Last day of the inquiry
Goodbye, ma'am.
Goodbye, Your Honor.
- Mr. Duros. - Your Honor.
Case dismissed!
- No unpleasant surprises, then? - None at all.
It's all over.
After Bernard's testimony, wasn't it inevitable?
Not really. Just as well Pédemay withdrew his complaint.
The testimony of the victim...
- There was no victim. - She's right.
Bernard's still alive.
Victim of his imprudence.
Is the car nearby? I don't feel too good.
Balion's parked on Place des Gemmeurs.
He couldn't pick you up on the doorstep.
Everyone will soon forget this business.
But for now it needs to be covered up.
You won't have to drive me back again.
It's over, then?
- Goodbye. - Goodbye, ma'am.
You're joining your husband?
Of course.
He's waiting for me in Argelouse.
He's much better.
He'll be hunting soon.
I intend to stay with him for a few days. If he feels better...
Are you completely insane? Leave Bernard now?!
You must be inseparable.
You must be like one, do you hear?
Don't you understand?
Do what your husband orders you to.
In you get.
Goodbye, ma'am.
All's well that ends well.
Bernard...
Listen to me and don't interrupt.
I'll tell you and you'll see it all...
through my eyes...
and you'll understand.
I didn't want to commit a crime.
I don't know what I wanted.
Do you understand me?
Do you believe me?
I understand you.
I believe you.
I forgive you.
You forgive me? Really?
Do you really?
I'm thirsty.
Can you go to the kitchen and get me a drink?
You dare to smile!
No-one can help me.
'Evening, Balionte.
- Why are you here? - 'Evening, ma'am.
The Balions will be staying with us now.
I put chicken soup and wine in your room.
You must be starving, dear.
Come on.
Not going to bed?
It's late.
There we are.
Case dismissed.
It was inevitable.
Let me go away.
- That's all. - Be quiet.
You dare ask!
All you'll do now is listen.
Follow my orders.
I decide everything.
You obey or else...
Or else what?
You spoke in my favour.
You can't go back on your words. It's perjury.
I'm acting for the family's sake.
If I lied in court, it was for their sake.
For the good of our family.
As for me, I don't matter.
People must think we're together.
I'll move in here for as long as needed.
We'll have separate rooms. Balionte will bring you food.
Aunt Clara...
When I'm speaking, don't interrupt, Thérèse!
It's hard enough as it is.
Apart from your bedroom, you're not allowed in any other room.
We'll be seen together Sundays at mass and Thursdays at the market.
Marie stays in St. Clair. Then, Mother will take her to Biarritz.
We'll say it's for health reasons.
You didn't think we'd leave you our girl?
She'll inherit the pines.
You think it was because of the pines?
What else?
It's not important. I'm not interested.
You mean nothing to me,
but you still bear my name.
I'm going to bed.
Balionte prepared the west room. It has all you'll need.
I'm scared...
It's your aunt Clara, ma'am.
October 1930
Are you scared of me?
You're not allowed in the kitchen.
I wanted tea.
Since you're here, I wanted to say...
Leave us alone, please.
Of course, sir. Come on.
That's it.
People think we get on well.
They think you're sick. Weak or depressed, I don't know.
Some even feel sorry for you.
They think you'd rather live alone and have me visit occasionally.
That suits me.
I'm leaving tomorrow morning.
You don't have to go to mass. You don't care, do you?
And Marie?
She's fine, thanks.
On the way out, send the Balions back in.
Anne, my dear, innocent sister, you'll never read this.
I'll have burned it. Did I even write it?
If you did, you wouldn't understand.
No more than you understand what I did...
what I'm going through.
No more than you know what poison grew beneath our feet
during our Argelouse summers.
Disgraceful. What a pigsty!
It stinks in here.
Why do I bother bringing you hot water? You haven't even touched it.
That is your problem.
How can I let you into the places where I suffered?
This land without paths I was a prisoner of.
She'll set fire to the house!
You won't burn these sheets!
Like your brother, you're one of the hopelessly simple race.
I saw you in love and I hated you for it.
I saw you suffer. Even your suffering was plain, pure,
without mystery.
I try to find myself again. I strive to connect with myself.
You'll take your place in the family,
not knowing the role you played in this story.
Our story, my "crime".
You'll marry the Deguilhems' son.
You'll forget Jean's caresses, you'll erase the memory of me
like dishonoured grandparents disappear from photo albums.
My little Marie won't know my name.
In your eyes, in my daughter's, and in the family's,
it'll be like I never existed.
Madame!
A letter from Mr. Bernard.
Won't you read it?
If he says he's coming, I have to prepare things.
I was pleased to learn from Balion that all's well, that you're healthy.
I'll visit you on the 20th with Anne and Francois Deguilhem.
His family wants their son to meet you before posting the banns.
Come on, ma'am, make an effort.
Mr. Bernard and the betrothed come in ten days.
The betrothed?
Ten days is plenty to get you on your feet.
I've made you chicken breast.
You can eat it in the kitchen by the fire.
I bought red wine and cigarettes.
Come on, walk a bit further.
I'm tired.
She's doing the best she can.
We can't force-feed her.
Mr. Bernard knows how to break unruly dogs.
You know, when he puts the choke collar on them.
It didn't take him long to turn her into a cringing dog.
She scares me, though.
Maybe I should wash her hair.
You're not cold, my darling?
A bit.
These old houses are impossible to heat.
Is there a cellar?
No.
You've had it, then.
The floor will rot.
Mind you, you could add a layer of cement.
Completely mouldy.
See what she's up to. Maybe she's ill.
Know what I think?
She won't come down. She'll find some excuse.
And don't ask me to kiss her. You can't ask that of me.
Just touching her hand...
Stop it!
Her hypocrisy is what revolts me the most.
Murderers exist, but her hypocrisy
is... is… repulsive!
I agree, but think of the family.
That's what I'm doing. I wouldn't be here otherwise.
- I hear her coming down. - I didn't hear anything.
What?
Don't look like at me like that. It's not so bad.
The weather kept me indoors.
I lost my appetite.
Better to lose weight than to get fat!
Hello, Bernard.
Hello, in-laws.
Hello, Thérèse.
Anne.
My darling...
I'm so happy!
I'm so happy for you.
You're very lucky, sir.
I know, ma'am, I know.
So, tell me...
This wedding, your dress!
Winters must seem long here.
Although a housewife is always busy.
Tell me, at Balisac, how many loads of resin do you get?
Only four.
Four? Tell me about it.
Won't you ask about Marie?
Oh, yes, of course.
Tell me about Marie.
She's an adorable little girl.
She must be talking now.
She repeats everything we say.
In her own way, of course. It's hilarious.
If she hears a rooster or a car horn,
she raises her finger and says:
"Hear the music, Nanou?"
She calls me Nanou.
She's a darling.
Do you think she's fainted?
The Balions will get an earful.
I'll let 'em have it, I swear.
Careful, they know a lot.
And he's the only one who knows the property boundaries.
Here, drink this. It'll buck you up.
They've all gone.
You're scared.
You're scared I'll die.
Don't be silly.
You're not going to die.
No, I'm not...
Am I?
What would people say?
No, Thérèse.
We said two after meals, no more.
You're right.
Did you weigh yourself today?
Yes, I've gained four pounds.
That's very good.
We'll walk a bit further.
Exercise is the best appetizer. You'll eat well tonight.
What if we go to L'Espérance for a change?
That's a bit far.
Some other time. I'd rather go home.
As you wish.
Thérèse, I need to tell you…
I want to wait till Anne's wedding...
people have to see us together...
But after that, you're free to leave.
I can leave?
That's what I've said.
I'll go to Paris.
I'll live in a hotel or an apartment.
No, in a hotel. At least at first.
If you wish.
Scared of causing a fire?
They have ashtrays in Paris!
Thérèse, tell me...
I need to know...
Was it because you hated me?
Did I disgust you?
It was for your pines, Bernard!
To get all your pines!
No, I don't believe that anymore.
Why did you do it? You can tell me now.
Perhaps to see in your eyes... a glimmer of worry.
Confusion.
Curiosity.
What I'm seeing just now, finally.
Seriously...
Why?
You always know why you do things...
I don't wish to hide anything from you.
But all my reasons why would seem vague.
Lies...
You made your mind up to do it one day.
The day of the fire at Mano.
It was as if I felt an obligation.
An awful obligation… Yes, an obligation.
Once and for all, just say what you wanted.
I know what I didn't want.
I didn't want to play a role, make gestures.
But now I know, the Thérèse
who was proud to marry a Desqueyroux
was me, too.
- Leaving? - I've a train to catch.
It's already late.
Yes, of course.
Bernard?
What?
I want to beg your pardon.
I'll have to come back sometimes. Handle my affairs... for Marie.
No, no need.
I'll look after everything, you'll see.
You'll come for weddings and funerals.
In a family as big as ours, there are plenty!
Well...
You won't be too hot?
No, I'll have to cover up in the car.
You'll feel alone.
I'll be OK. Each generation in my family has its bachelor.
That's just how it is.
I only regret we didn't have a son.
The name will die out.
Don't bother getting up.
Goodbye, Thérèse.
Goodbye, Bernard.
It's paid for.
The drinks, I mean. They're paid for.