All language subtitles for Les.Dames.du.Bois.de.Boulogne.1945.FRENCH.720p.BluRay.H264.AAC-VXT

THE LADIES OF
THE BOIS DE BOULOGNE

I haven't shown you
a very good time.

You're suffering.

I know I annoy you,
but I'm your oldest friend.

Though you keep silent,
I must speak.

Hélène, you have sacrificed everything

for a man who no longer loves you.

Jean and I adore each other.

You know very well what I mean.

Observe him as I observe you.

There is no such thing as love,
only proofs of love.

Our happiness disturbs our friends.

I'm sorry, but I'm happy.

I only wanted to warn you
because I love you with all my heart.

Good night, Jacques.

The play was long
and I'm exhausted.

Good night.

Jean!

You frightened me.

I rushed over to apologise
for forgetting so stupidly.

Such a thing doesn't matter
between us.

I'm tired.

I completely forgot
I was to dine with you tonight.

I have no excuse.
It's unforgivable.

Do you like this case?

I love gold.

It's like you:

warm, cold, light, dark,

incorruptible.

What a beautiful gift!

Thank you.

It was your anniversary gift.
You would have found it at your seat.

Anniversary?

It was two years ago that
we decided to live for each other.

What a monster I am!

Don't be so hard on yourself.

We all have something
to blame ourselves for.

Even you?

Even me.

Tell me.

It might be better not to.

We vowed never to keep
anything from one another.

That's the trouble.

I've held back from telling you
for some time now.

- I didn't want to hurt you.
- You, hurt me?

Here it is, then.

It happened gradually,
without my realising it.

I couldn't laugh.
I couldn't sleep.

I wondered if
it was your fault, but no.

You're as wonderful as ever.

You stay the same.
I'm the one who has changed.

I ask myself over and over:

why am I no longer impatient?

Why is waiting no longer a torment?

Why does my heart not skip a beat
when he arrives?

The sound of the lift approaching
no longer thrills me.

Hélène!

It's a horrible discovery.

But I wish to be frank.

My heart is drifting away from you.

I'm ready for your reproaches,
bitterness and insults.

I've called myself
the worst names already.

Only one insult could
wound me now: "hypocrite".

Hélène, you're wonderful.

You were the first to speak,
but I was guilty first.

The story of your love is
word for word the story of my own.

All that you thought,
I thought as well.

I kept silent, suffering,
not daring to open my mouth.

What a lesson you've taught me!

- Really?
- Really.

Hélène, you're beautiful.
You're stunning.

It's like I'm seeing you
for the first time.

We should congratulate ourselves.

It would be awful if one went on loving
longer than the other.

Yes, awful.

- What now?
- Neither of us has betrayed the other.

We can avoid a messy breakup.

We'll continue to see one another.

We'll elude the death throes
of a languishing love.

No deceit, no surprises, no disgust.

We'll be unique among our kind.

I give you back your freedom,
and you give me mine.

We each go our own way.

We'll be each other's confidant,

though I doubt I'll find anyone
to confide in you about.

You've set such a high standard.

Can anyone ever know the future?

I may find out you were the only woman
capable of making me happy.

Perhaps you'll feel the same.

And one day we'll meet again,

and I'll be at your side
until we die.

What if you don't find me here
when you return?

Anything's possible.

I might fall for another.
He couldn't compare to you, but still...

That would be nobody's fault.

Good night, Hélène.

Good night, Jean.

Take all the calls.
I'm not home for anybody.

Nobody?

Nobody.

I'll have my revenge.

Agnès, darling, you look awful.

Thanks. Always such cheerful news.

I say what I think.

Hurry up.

For those morons?

Morons who wait for you
and send such lovely flowers.

Leave them alone.

You're so tense.
We must take them home.

I hate potted flowers.

Especially when a drunkard
sends them!

- You're mad!
- No, I'm not.

You're very ill-tempered this evening.

Sorry, Mama.
I'm not angry, just tired.

Follow that car.

Yes, madame, it's me.

Hélène!
What are you doing here?

Come with me.

You deserve a good scolding.

Not a word from you in three years.

I thought we no longer
existed for you.

I might say the same of you.

It's Agnès' fame that led me to you.

Otherwise I'd never have found you.

- You know about our troubles?
- I suspected.

Financial ruin upon arriving in Paris.

This enormous apartment,

and me clinging like a fool
to my dwindling furniture.

My dressers, console tables,
cupboards, chandeliers,

everything I'd brought
from the countryside.

May God keep you
from poverty, Hélène.

And Agnès?

An angel!

She's resigned to it.

Dancing was her life,
but this was not her dream.

She wanted to live for dancing,
not dance to earn us a living.

In the blink of an eye
she gave up on all her true talents,

the opera, fame...

She's a success.

Leave me alone!

Enough! This is my home.

Agnès! My little girl!

I'm not your little girl, I'm a whore.

Leave me in peace!

Oh, my God, my God!

I'm so distraught.

I heard nothing.
I see and hear only what I wish to.

And I was so happy
to see you again!

Come on.

What a disaster!

It's over, all over.

What are you saying?
Nothing is over. I'm here.

No one can help us anymore.

I'm just in time, then.
Let me handle it.

- It's hopeless.
- It's not hopeless.

It's very simple.

Please, calm down.

- I can't go on.
- Listen to me.

You're going to have a decent life.
I'll see to that.

Why would you care
about women like us?

That girl cannot remain in this mess.
I must intervene.

First, you must leave this mess behind

and find a less dangerous
way of life for you and Agnès.

But we can't.

Agnès must stop
flaunting herself in public.

You'll sell the rest
of your furniture,

flee this house and its intruders,
and I'll find you a new home.

- I have debts.
- I'll take care of them.

- You won't see anyone at first.
- People will find us.

Not if you don't want them to.

Use your real name again.
Take up your old lifestyle.

Erase three years from your history.
It won't be hard.

Please, not a word of thanks!
Just follow my advice.

- You're an angel.
- Agnès too. We are all angels.

Obey me and don't worry.

You'll leave here tomorrow.

Now calm down and get some rest.

Don't bother seeing me out.

Agnès! Agnès!

- What a gloomy place!
- A piano!

I'm not allowed to dance
but we have music.

No one's stopping you.
Dance!

Are you sure all this is necessary?

If so, I accept it,
but do you realise what we're in for?

I do. Our life was a nightmare.

And this is a dream?

Look.

I call this a prison.

Trees!

You have a lovely view
of the square.

Am I allowed to look outside?

Now, don't forget our agreement.

Not a word of thanks.

The Bois de Boulogne
at three o'clock this afternoon.

Don't wander far from the waterfall,
and be on time.

Agnès must be bored,
staying in all the time.

She'll be glad to get out.

At the waterfall. Precisely.

I'm going out, but I'll be back for lunch.
There'll be two of us.

So, you're shutting yourself in?

You have a secret. Tell me.

We said we would tell
one another everything.

- People bore me.
- Even Jacques?

I don't want to see him.

- You still love me.
- Perhaps.

And you behave like a saint.

Perhaps.

Now I believe you're capable
of any heroism.

I can be heroic if I must.

But why do you live so alone,

so removed from everything?

You are made to be loved
and admired.

Use your charms,
not just your feminine charms,

but that magical charm of yours.

It's no use, dear Jean.

My heart is at peace.

I never thought our friendship
would make me so happy.

Please don't let our separation
condemn you to a life of solitude.

- So, you recommend Jacques?
- I do.

- Is that your advice as a friend?
- As a friend.

You're mine for the afternoon.
I'm taking you out for a stroll.

And I'm taking you to a show.

On such a sunny day?

I'd hate to be cooped up in the dark.

We'll go for a stroll, then.

Where?

Anywhere.

The Bois de Boulogne?

Faces from the past.

They were my neighbours
in the countryside three years ago.

I'd like you to meet
one of my dearest friends.

- What do you think of her?
- I hardly looked at her.

- You looked at her quite a bit.
- She has a striking face.

She looks more like a country lass
than a Parisian girl.

It's her gaze that I like.

She looks you straight in the eye,
yet in a shy way.

You know, I was tempted
to leave you and drive them home.

Phone.

Hello?

We just got in.

What?

Happy? You're happy?

So are we, my dear.

See you soon.

- Hélène is happy.
- About what?

Not so long ago, tea time
would have sent you running.

Only to avoid
your babbling lady friends.

- But there are other women...
- Others?

Have you seen the ladies
from the Bois again?

Why, no.

What a shame!

You should see them again,
invite them over, help them.

You like my ladies
from the Bois de Boulogne?

They're unlike the ladies
you usually associate with.

Very perceptive of you.
They're so unlike them

that they refuse to come
when I invite them.

- Why?
- Out of tact and scruples.

Are they so poor?

They went very quickly
from wealth to destitution

and found simple contentment.

- They surprise me.
- I admire them.

Do you think I could see them,
entertain them?

Certainly not.

You have no idea
what that girl is like.

No idea at all.

She is beyond anyone's reach.

You can't touch her nor tempt her.
You'd get nowhere.

If I were to go,
would they throw me out?

You? Go to Port-Royal Square?

Port-Royal Square?

Of course they would.

I should just give up the whole idea?

That would be wise.

My dear Jean,
be careful with your whims.

You're flirting with disaster.

I'd rather warn you
than console you.

See you tomorrow?

See you tomorrow.

The gentleman forgot his gloves.
I'll return them to him tomorrow.

He won't be back tomorrow.

I'm in luck.

I'm not. Leave me alone!

What about the waterfall
at the Bois de Boulogne?

Have you forgotten?

Was that you at the waterfall?
I had forgotten.

I'm so happy.

- I was certain I'd find you.
- Certain?

Since we met, I've felt attached
to you by a string. I simply followed it.

- Is that string called indiscretion?
- No, certainty.

- I must go.
- So soon?

Do you like rain that much?

Is it raining?

- This rain is persistent.
- Yes, very persistent.

- Where are you going?
- To get an umbrella.

- For whom?
- You.

Don't bother!

I hoped I could say hello
to your mother.

What a pity! She's out.
Take her umbrella.

- Her umbrella?
- Take it.

- You're not going down again!
- I insist.

I won't damage it.
I'll bring it back.

Don't bother. Keep it.
It's old and has soaked up many a storm.

A souvenir?

Give it to our mutual friend
from the Bois.

- Will you see her soon?
- I rarely see her. And you?

Once a year.
We don't see anybody.

And I'll thank you
to remember that.

Follow your string now,
and don't lose your way.

- Why the long face?
- You wouldn't understand.

Understand what?

- You lend an umbrella...
- It's not the umbrella!

I didn't break all ties
with our former life

because it was a jumble
of poverty and empty luxuries.

I broke ties with it because
I needed to live and enjoy living.

Those flowers ruin everything.

But they bring joy, my angel.

There was a time when I would see
a man's face behind every bouquet.

Now look.

Behind these flowers, there's still
a man's face threatening us.

- That's what we've come to.
- You're always so dramatic.

Yesterday we opened our door
to any man, and flowers!

Today, we close it in their face,
and still flowers!

- There'll be more tomorrow.
- We'll refuse them.

Yet I'm still the same girl.

You shouldn't have lent him
that umbrella.

I didn't lend it to him.
I forbade him to return it.

But it was my umbrella!

I'm sorry, Mama.

But believe me, I had to.

- That's all right. Forget about it.
- If only I could.

- And be simple.
- Simple?

Yes, simple, like me.

I take things as they come.

I ask of things
only what they wish to give.

These flowers give me their perfume,
and I breathe it in.

Going out?

- Where?
- To recover our peace of mind.

- You're crazy!
- I want what's happening to be clear.

Agnès, what is it?

We've been found out.

What a mess.
Tell me about it.

- Can't you guess?
- No.

- Someone I know?
- Yes.

Then I can guess.

He was waiting for me
in front of our place.

I was on my way home.
He escorted me to my door.

We're at the flower stage now
and expecting his visit soon.

You shouldn't have
received him the first time.

- I sent him away.
- Bravo.

It was raining.
Was I right to do so?

- I approve.
- Sincerely?

Sincerely.

- He'll come back. What should I do?
- Show him the door.

Take my advice.

You understand how difficult
it was for my mother and me

to turn away a friend of yours
without consulting you.

I understand.
But I will help you.

- Help me?
- In any way I can.

- I'm such a fool.
- Why?

- I was afraid.
- Afraid of what?

Afraid, that's all.

I was ill at ease. I imagined you
giving out our address to anyone.

In my mind, you were
indifferent to our problems,

preoccupied solely
with your own existence.

I was so foolish.

Do you feel better now?
You trust me?

- Yes, I do.
- Good.

Now sit down.
You're going to write a letter.

- To whom?
- To me.

To you?

It will be easy.
We'll write it together.

Where have you been?
No one's seen you for days.

I've just had
a fascinating experience.

I walked along the Seine

and I tried to count
up to a thousand between bridges.

If I went beyond a thousand,
I turned around and counted more slowly.

Climbing the stairs I told myself,

"If I reach the landing
on my left foot, I'm lost."

Luckily, I landed on the right.

And what drives you
to these kinds of activities?

Despair.

Despair?

I must speak even if I hurt you.

I'm ill. I can't be without her.

I managed to see her again.

- Whom?
- The girl from the Bois de Boulogne.

I found their haven, thanks to you.

- Me? Did I give you the address?
- Not you, your mouth.

Sometimes our mind lets words
slip from our tongue unheeded.

- In other words, you made a blunder.
- If I did, I apologise.

- You must do me a favour.
- What?

The ladies from the Square
turn me away.

They never go out,
and they receive no one.

Hélène, that girl is wonderful.
I must see her again.

You must give me this one chance.

I'll think about it on one condition:

you must quit harassing them
with your advances.

You're causing me trouble.

They complained to me in writing.
If you need proof...

...here is the letter.

It's from Agnès. Read it.

Her writing is so like her.

It is without pretence,
childlike and noble.

This is like Cinderella's slipper.

If I found this in the street,
I'd do everything in my power

to find the girl who wrote it.

That's your only reaction?

I'll leave them alone, I promise.

But in exchange
you must let me see them again.

What are you dragging me into?

Why put me
in such an impossible position?

How is it my business
whether you love her or not?

Work out the affairs
of your heart on your own.

Can you imagine
the consequences of my kindness

if those kind women knew
I was helping you carry out your whims?

Hélène, you don't understand.

This is no mere whim.

I love you too much to involve you
in a meaningless love affair.

No, Hélène.

I love her.

I'm losing my head.
I'm capable of anything.

Agnès' face is like
a gash across my heart.

I meet her in my dreams
and dream of her in my waking hours.

I walk the streets,
thinking of ways

to break down her door,
to storm the barriers she's erected,

to scream out the pain I feel.

And when I've tired myself out,
I turn to counting.

Trees, cracks in the sidewalk,
lampposts. I'm going mad.

How you must love her!

So recently cured of love

and now you'll do anything
to go crazy again?

- When will I see her again?
- And you're proud of it!

- When will I see her again?
- I don't know.

I wish you'd stop playing that piano!

I thought my music
would soothe your pain.

You won't let me see her?

You're crazy, my dear.
There's no cure for you.

There is, but you won't give it to me.

It isn't that I won't.

I can't.

Jean!

Let me leave.

- Why are you leaving?
- I don't like the piano.

- What are you going to do?
- Disappear.

Disappear where?

Never see her or you
or anyone ever again.

This is all so absurd.

You'll come by one evening.
I'll arrange for you to see her here.

- Could it really be?
- I'm as crazy as you are.

You still have
a terrible hold over me.

- And it frightens me.
- You can make them see me?

No.

But I can give chance a hand.

- Give me some time.
- No, it must be soon.

Tomorrow!

Tomorrow?

You're another person
when you dance.

You light up like a chandelier.

I'm about to put out that chandelier.
I'm giving up dancing.

What now?

I've decided to quit dancing
and dressing up.

I need to put it all behind me.

Agnès, my little girl.

My little girl.

- What's wrong?
- Nothing.

- Nothing? I thought you were dead.
- Nothing at all.

I'll never dance again.

It was my heart.

Telephone.

The telephone?

- The telephone.
- I'll go.

No, I will.

Be reasonable and go and lie down.

This evening?

Yes, of course, my dear.

Certainly, with pleasure.

We're invited to Hélène's.

Agnès is here.

Speak to her.

I'd be delighted.
See you tonight.

Will it be just us?

Of course.

It's a joy for us to be here.
We live like savages at our place.

- Are you blaming me?
- Not at all.

Mother only meant
that it's adorable of you

to have us over
when you're on your own.

You know very well I wouldn't dream
of introducing you to anyone.

I promised.

Good evening, Hélène.

I just dropped in for dinner,
but I see I'm interrupting.

Yes, you are.

But since you're here,
you might as well stay.

You know everyone.
Have a seat.

We forgive you.

Call first next time.
You can't just show up on a whim.

It must be lovely
to live by your whims,

to have a string that always
leads you to the right place.

Very lovely.

My daughter and I take this opportunity
to thank you for your flowers.

The house is full of them.

It looks like a greenhouse.
It's a dream come true!

Agnès was delighted.
She was...

I think broken glasses...

You said it at the same time.
Make a wish.

Yes, let's. I've made mine.

And I mine.

Wouldn't it be funny
if we made the same wish?

Find a woman who would do
as much for you as I have.

- What a disaster!
- What disaster?

I mean dinner.

The awkwardness, the restraint,
the uneasiness.

Their hasty escape.

It was adorable.

- Still crazy?
- More than ever.

I have to have that girl!

And perhaps you will.

But how?

We'll see.

I know her, my dear Jean.

It's quite clear.

Agnès, will you kindly
explain your behaviour?

That man is charming.

So unlike the others we've met.

Admit it, he's something else.

Why the long face
and the broken glasses?

Why leave in such a hurry?

Why embarrass Hélène like that?

It was quite uncalled for.

Good night, dear.

Are you crying?

Leave me alone.

I never want to see
Hélène or him again.

You were busy eating
but I saw through it all.

All what? Tell me.

It's impossible to explain.

I prefer not to understand.
It'd be worse if I did.

Promise never to see Hélène
or accept anything from her again.

I'm afraid
that's impossible, darling.

She plays with men,
and she's playing with us.

Men are fools.
Too bad for him!

Promise me.

- Without her we'd be out on the street.
- I know it, and so does she.

It's tragic.

Destiny is tragic,

but I prefer a fate we choose
to one forced upon us.

What's sad is
I can't do anything anymore.

- I had a career once.
- Don't torment yourself.

You have so many ways
of making yourself and others happy.

Make whom happy?

I'm thinking of you, my angel.
Now go to sleep.

Don't give it any more thought.
I'll fight this battle alone.

Oh, it's you. I knew it.

I had to come.

I'm sorry,
but I can't invite you to stay.

Come in.

My daughter will be back soon.
She mustn't find you here.

- Can't I see her?
- No, she mustn't suspect you came by.

Our place is very small.

So this is where
she lives and sleeps.

She plays piano here,

and she sits and reads over there.

The lamp is her.

These flowers are her.

This cushion, this frame,
it's all her.

Yes, it is. I see I'll have
to show you everything.

- Her room.
- Agnès' room.

Her books.

Her photographs.

Agnès at five years old.

Agnès at ten.

Agnès on horseback at 16.

What's that?

A costume.

- She likes to dress up?
- She used to.

She liked dresses, hats, and jewels,
but she does without now.

With your permission,
I'd love to give her a present

from time to time,
without her knowing.

She'd never accept.

She wouldn't have to know
where they came from.

You'd give them to her.

We'll see.
She detects the slightest lie.

- Now, please go.
- May I at least leave this letter for her?

No, no letters. Go quickly!

Mama, we are saved!

- From what?
- From Hélène and everybody.

I found a job.

- What's the matter?
- Nothing.

A real job!

It's a surprise.
Let's go and tell Hélène. I can't wait.

- Mama, something's wrong.
- It's nothing, I tell you.

Somebody's gone through my things.

I was tidying up.
Your costume fell down.

And what's this?

"Even if you never come,

"I will wait for you
every day at the waterfall."

Agnès, tell me about your job.

What kind of work is it exactly?

Are you sure no one will recognise you
if you work in public?

Don't be rash, Agnès.

I'm not being rash, Mama.

Shall I lock you in?

Please, just give me a second.

Do those men frighten you?

Isn't there another exit?

No, and they're not leaving.

They've been waiting for you
since this morning.

- That's the price of fame.
- What fame?

They want autographs.

Come on, everyone knows you.

The whole store is talking about it.
They know you're a dancer.

What's wrong?

It's hopeless.

There's no way out of this.

Explain it to me, Mama.
I don't understand.

Must one bear the burden
of one's past mistakes for life?

- It's not fair.
- Someone recognised you.

I told you so.

Always "I told you so"!

There's no hope. I give up.

But we can't go back
to that horrible life that you hated.

- Men are vicious!
- Not all of them.

- Whom are you referring to?
- You're so impatient!

Like a bull at a gate.

You decide this, decide that.
You rush into things.

Just let things be.

Look.

- What's this?
- Put them on.

- Where did they come from?
- Put them on

and look at yourself
in the mirror.

You think it's not having fine things
that makes me unhappy.

See how beautiful you are.

It's not the lack of fine things
that makes me unhappy.

If they were real pearls,
I'd throw them out of the window.

Hello, Agnès.

What lovely pearl earrings!

I recognise them.
My jeweler sold them recently.

- I knew I'd find you wearing them.
- You've got it all wrong.

Should someone your age be wearing
such expensive jewellery?

Take them off right now.

You're incorrigible.

- How could you?
- You've got it all wrong.

You're behaving like a tart.
A horrible little tart!

Send these pearls back
with a curt note of refusal.

How can Agnès behave
so foolishly and inappropriately?

You must keep
a closer eye on her, my dear.

Stop her from doing these things.

Don't destroy everything I've built.

Don't tear apart what's taken
such effort to put together.

How can you allow your daughter
to be treated like a whore?

That's what you do when you allow her
to accept gifts such as that.

But I suppose it's my fault.

I ask you to live like hermits
and I'm sure it must be very dreary.

If this life seems a bit oppressive,

why don't you tell me?
I can lighten the load.

You must see that I've helped you
and that we've almost achieved our goal.

Yes.

Then help me to help you.

And warn me

if that little fool
does anything stupid again.

- Do you promise?
- Yes, Hélène.

I think you're right.
I promise.

"I'm not the courageous type.

"I'm writing to tell you
what I'd never dare say in person.

"And yet..."

Where are you going?

Where are you going?
Answer me!

I'm sure she's up to something foolish.

She hasn't been the same
since yesterday.

I told you to keep an eye her.

- You asked for it.
- Asked for what?

The worst, my dear.
The worst for you.

- Where is she?
- If I knew, we'd try to save her.

No doubt
she's excelled herself this time.

She'll end up ruining everything.

I've waited every day,
but I never thought you'd come.

I didn't come to meet you
but to give you this letter.

- A letter? Is it bad news?
- Very bad.

Then I don't want it.

Please read it. I insist.

- I'll tear it up.
- No!

We're unlucky. Every time
we meet alone, it's raining.

Come.
Let's get out of the rain.

So, you live in this cave?
How odd.

I've only a moment
to tell you so much.

Let's make this moment last forever.

We can do it. We can make it
last a lifetime, Agnès.

A lifetime.

Let's go far away.

You're not saying no?
I don't frighten you?

Tell me this isn't
some absurd dream.

Tell me you're putting up barriers
between us that don't really exist,

that everything is clear and simple
and nothing separates us.

Read this letter.

We'll read it together one day,
in the sun.

There's a train at seven,
waiting to take us away.

We just have time.

Take a cab and meet me
at the station.

Gare de Lyon, seven o'clock!

Where are you going?

Where have you been?

Did you tell him everything?

I told him nothing.

You love him!

My dear friend,
you are very foolish.

I told you your idea was doomed.
These women are impeccable.

Yes, I am foolish.
You were right.

Now you spend your whole life waiting,

on stairways, in caves,
at train stations.

- What about your work?
- I can't work.

I can't talk to anyone anymore.

I can't read or write
or live anymore.

I haven't a shred of will left.

I'm a walking ghost.

I wish I could just sleep.

Sometimes I feel like driving in my car
until I fall asleep at the wheel and crash.

I wouldn't advise hitting the road.
You'd drive 20 miles and turn back.

My dear, we've come...

Actually, Agnès didn't want to come,

but I'm sure you'll find it in your heart
to understand why I'm here.

This is a very serious
and delicate matter

that has me quite upset.

I hesitate to mention it
as you've always been so good to us.

It's only our long-standing friendship
that allows me to speak out.

Excuse me.

Hello? Speaking.

Go, then, my dear friend.

What? I'm not helping you?

That's all I'm doing, helping you.

It's true.

What do you expect me to do?

Then go!

I don't understand
a word you're saying.

You've shown
how fond you are of us.

I'm sure we can come
to understand each other.

I don't know if we are
of use to you in any way.

Not in the slightest!

Agnès is going through a difficult time.
I'd like us to help her.

We feel obligated to have your consent
before we do anything.

- My consent?
- Yes, we are indebted to you.

And it weighs heavily on Agnès.
I'd like to hear you set her free.

Free?

I set you both totally free.

But you're hardly free,
since you're practically married.

Married?

You're such an odd one,
my dear Agnès.

You drive a man mad.
What do you expect me to do?

You must choose.
Marry him or tell him everything.

Or shall I tell him?

Mama, let's go.

Marriage is out of the question.

- I won't do it.
- Why?

If I accepted this horrible solution,
where would it lead?

He would find out everything.
People love to gossip.

People aren't criminals, Agnès.

Be a woman, fight!

Don't spoil your life forever.

You can tell him afterwards.

Things will change then.

In any case,
you no longer have a choice.

Let's go.

Well? How many miles?

Sixty, round trip.

- Well?
- My mind is made up for good.

God knows, you and I
are not the marrying kind.

Oh, leave me out of this.

Could you see yourself
getting married?

Yes.

And today I can tell you that.

But there's only one man
I would marry.

Who?

You.

- You disapprove of my marriage?
- No.

She's perfect for you.
You're very lucky.

I'm so glad to hear you say that.

And after all I've asked of you,
I'd like to ask one final favour

that should be no trouble at all.

I put my fate in your hands.

Tell them of my intentions.
They won't need much convincing.

Not so fast, my dear Jean.

This isn't about them.
It's about you.

I must know more about this

before you rush
into some new adventure.

- You said they were impeccable.
- Of course they are.

If things work out,
I'm at their disposal.

They prefer to avoid people.

If they like, we can have
a simple wedding.

On the contrary,

I envision a huge wedding.

Let me organise it.
I'll take care of everything.

But I repeat: slow down.

No, make it as soon as possible.

I could never do enough
for your happiness.

I'm afraid I was completely wrong
about that girl.

I'm afraid for you.

Look at people's expressions.

Ask some questions.

About what?
And whom should I ask?

Agnès.

Where's Agnès?

I don't know.

Come along.

Come!

I can't face them or anyone anymore.

Come along.

Kill me, but don't drag me out there.

- Let go.
- Do what you like with me.

I deserve it.

- But I beg of you...
- Let go!

Hélène has told you everything,
and now that you know...

I know nothing
and I wish to know nothing!

Do you hear me?

Madame has fainted.
Look after her.

Hélène!

You look upset.
What's wrong?

What is this horrible mystery
I'm involved in?

I don't understand a thing.

Please tell me.
Don't be afraid of hurting me.

I'm going crazy!
I must know.

It's quite simple.

You've married a whore.

She was a cabaret dancer.

You played a trick on me
and now I've played one on you.

You?

Yes, me.

You don't seem to realise
where a woman's scorn can lead.

You?

You!

Don't be absurd.

You've married a whore.
Now you must face the consequences.

You're suddenly so sentimental.

You're horrid!

Since your marriage seems to mean
so much to you, you mustn't run off.

Return to Agnès' side.

You won't be the only one consoling her.
All her lovers are inside.

And there are plenty of them!

She's very ill.
She's fainted three times.

Her heart may fail any minute.

I'm very worried.
We must do something.

Please, madame, let me by.

You're here.

In time perhaps you'll forgive me.

But don't hurry.

So many honest girls
become dishonest women.

Perhaps I'll prove
that the opposite can happen too.

I'm not yet worthy
to have you come close to me.

Wait.

Just leave me a little hope.

Then you can judge my behaviour.

I'll be happy
if you can bear my presence.

Show me a corner of your house
where I can live.

I'll stay there without protest.

I'm not evil.

I know myself.

I was weak.

And I was in love with you.
That's my only excuse.

I lacked the courage
to tell you the truth.

Remember the letter
you wouldn't read?

It wasn't pleasant.

You can forget me.

I won't trouble you anymore.

It will be easy.

Hold on to life
with all your strength.

Hold on to me!

I love you.
You can't leave me!

Try to hold on! Fight!

I am fighting.

You're my wife. I love you.

Stay with me!

I'll try.

That's an order.
You can't disobey!

Stay with me!

I will stay.

THE END