Original subtitles

THE BERLIN FILM FESTIVAL SPECIAL JURY PRIZE

TO A WOMAN IS A WOMAN

FOR ITS ORIGINALITY, YOUTHFULNESS, DARING AND IMPERTINENCE.

BEST ACTRESS: ANNA KARINA

FOR A DISPLAY OF QUALITIES

RARE IN A NEWCOMER.

ONCE

UPON A TIME

Coffee, very white.

A coffee, green.

What time is it?

5:30.

It’s too hot. Gotta run.

I’M EXPECTING A BABY

SLEEPING BEAUTY

How about this?

You don’t have anything sexier?

Let’s go, children.

Hi.

Still mad?

- No, precious. - Then you love me?

Yes...

my precious!

Look.

What a pretty postcard, Emile.

Why are you crying?

Because I’d like to be

both yellow animals at the same time.

Always asking for the impossible.

I’ll take my drum and beat it.

Hi, Angela.

You look so sad.

Not at all.

We have to talk.

Go take a long walk somewhere else.

This is serious.

I don’t have time. I’m late.

What’re you thinking?

Nothing.

I think I exist.

There she goes.

Hurry, Angela.

Hi, kids.

Happy unbirthday.

Got my newspaper for the horoscope?

Read mine: Virgo.

- You go on before Daniele, so hurry. - What for?

Ask Luciano.

- A pack of Gitanes. - Ten francs.

You’ll get your money.

Dominique out of the hospital? - She has your thingamajig.

What’s this? It’s so cute.

I got it at the department store.

Really cute.

Did you read the horoscope?

"Virgo...

Romance: A blessed event is on the way."

No kidding.

This is great.

Seen my new act?

Watch this.

Great.

Did you go to the Champs Elysees?

- Why not? - Because.

- Meaning? - There are more important things to do.

Hurry, Angela. You’re on soon.

- Here I am. - I have your thing.

- How does it work? - It’s easy.

I’ll put it in the drawer.

Okay.

You’ll be like the man who saw the man

who saw the man who saw the man

who saw the bear.

"Creations of art are the 40 days of nature’s glorious life."

People usually admire

That tower built by Eiffel

But I’d rather take in

Angela, who’s an eyeful

People always wonder why

Men go crazy when I walk by

It’s simple, really

The truth is plain to see

I’ve got breasts to make men holler

And eyes like purple gems

A little sailor’s collar

And panties made of...

I just hate it when it’s early

And I’m pulled out of the sack

I just love it when

Someone strokes my back

I’m the kind who always says: Yessiree

When a fella says: C’mon, sweetie

Because when a guy gets amorous

That’s no time to make a fuss

I’m not the kind of girl to behave

I’m really very cruel

But men never rant and rave

Because I am

Beauti...

ful

- Let me try. - Sure.

Great.

How does it work?

I’m for the rhythm method.

- Really? - It worked for Cherie’s kid.

Don’t listen to her. This is scientific.

Bianchini wants girls for Marseilles. A 400 francs salary.

- Sign here. - Can I bring my iron?

- Where will we stay? - At a hotel.

- Can we do laundry? - Sure.

Coming, Angela? - I don’t want to.

Anyway, I hate the Riviera.

Red stocking, bluestocking.

You, Angela, no time?

Me, Angela, no time.

- Me? - Yes, you.

You owe the Hotel Bikini 520 francs?

- Me? - July 9.

You left without paying the bill.

Wait. I’ll tell you.

I write down everything I do.

October, September...

July...

July 20.

July 9.

You’ve got it all wrong.

"10:00 a.m.: Call Paul to play cards.

Noon...

lunch at the snack bar.

5:30..."

You’re right.

"Left Hotel Bikini without paying."

So you gonna pay up?

No, never.

Jerk.

- Creep. - Son of a bitch.

- Pain in the ass. - Shithead.

- Wandering Jew. - Fascist.

Pervert.

Why didn’t you wait for me?

I have important things to do.

Isn’t it important that I want you?

Funny, isn’t it?

It’s darker now than an hour ago.

It’s not funny.

Then it’s not funny.

Then why say it’s funny?

I don’t know. I’m sad.

You’re a funny girl.

How’s Agnes doing? Did she have her baby?

Dunno. It’s none of my business now.

You’re a funny guy.

You really don’t care if I’m interested in you?

In French, if the adjective comes after the noun instead of before,

is the meaning the same?

What d’you mean?

For example,

is a "blessed event"

the same as "an event that’s blessed"?

Is that why you’re sad?

Then why?

Because I’d like to be in a musical comedy

starring Cyd Charisse

and Gene Kelly.

Choreography...

by Bob Fosse.

What now?

You didn’t say good-bye.

Missed.

Yesterday you asked why I love Emile and not you.

Because he’s handsome and clever. You’re not.

I’m very clever.

Really?

I bet you can’t do everything I can.

Try me.

Thanks for the roast.

You’re welcome, Mrs. Recamier.

I’ve got something to tell you.

Not now.

"Madam...

the Cycle Day Indicator

enables you to determine,

with scientific precision,

the days when you’re fertile."

"With scientific precision."

"Hold the white ring

between the fingers of your left hand.

Turn the black cylinder...

with your right hand...

until the triangle is opposite

the zero."

"The days you can conceive

will now appear in the window of the cylinder."

November 10.

What’s today?

What’s that scarf?

I treated myself to an early Christmas gift.

Here’s your Marie-Claire.

- Is the match over? - What match?

Goddamn it, Angela!

The Madrid-Barcelona match!

I told you to tune in!

I have to do everything!

What’s wrong now?

Before acting out our little farce,

we bow to the audience.

What’s wrong?

You don’t love me.

Listen to this fool!

Listen to this idiot! I love only you!

Are you crazy?

I love only you.

Your eyes, your neck, your shoulders...

your waist.

Your feet.

Will you sweep up

instead of acting silly?

I love only you

Di Stefano has the ball.

He attacks on the right wing. Beautiful.

It’s fantastic. It’s pure Shakespeare.

Divine Alfredo, the Julius Caesar of soccer,

centers to Del Sol, Del Sol to Puskas, Puskas to Del Sol.

Del Sol to Di Stefano, Di Stefano to Del Sol.

Madrid’s grand today.

Del Sol drives into the penalty zone.

He’s alone in front of Ramallets.

He shoots.

I’m not finished.

Is dinner ready?

Overdone.

Would you rather have fish or meat for dinner?

Fish.

What would you have preferred

if you were having meat?

I dunno.

Veal.

If you were to have beef rather than veal,

would you prefer a steak or a roast?

A steak.

Had you answered roast,

would you prefer it rare or well-done?

Rare.

Well, honey, you’re out of luck.

My roast beef’s a bit overdone.

Are you mad?

It’s nothing to fight about.

Too bad.

Because I’m very worked up.

I went by to see Gerardin.

He’s on for Sunday.

Really?

At first he said no, but he changed his mind.

Great!

At Parc de Prince stadium

at the start of the rally.

Want a soft-boiled egg instead?

Sure, precious.

But on one condition.

What?

I want a baby.

All right.

Okay, Angela. - No kidding?

You really want to? - Sure. I’m no ogre.

Once we’re married.

Then let’s get married.

I’ll write to Copenhagen for my birth certificate.

We’ve got time.

I don’t understand.

Look, if we had a baby,

we’d get married at once. But we don’t.

I wish we did.

We’ll see.

What’d the Lido guy say?

I didn’t go.

That’s stupid, Angela.

The Lido’s important. It beats the Zodiac.

Why are you so cruel?

What did I do?

That’s just it.

Just what?

Speak to me in another tone.

What kind of tone?

A quieter tone.

You’ll break my eardrums.

I speak quietly and it suits me fine.

Not at all.

- I don’t speak quietly? - "I don’t speak quietly?"

You can’t even pronounce your R’s.

Yes, I can.

Pathetic.

Why is it always women who suffer?

Women are the cause of all suffering.

Or "woman is the cause..."

Either form is correct. "Are said to be"

or "is said to be."

Cut the baloney

or I’ll give you a knuckle sandwich

and you’ll be eating humble pie.

You took the morning paper?

I despise you.

Here, you commie.

Drop it, Angela!

There she goes.

I don’t know whether to laugh

or cry.

I find a crying woman ugly.

I don’t.

On the contrary.

That’s what Agnes said.

Nothing’s more beautiful than a woman in tears.

We should boycott women who don’t cry.

Modern women are stupid...

when they try to elim...

That isn’t it.

A woman who can’t cry is stupid.

These modern women

who try to imitate men.

I’m fed up with all of you.

Manage on your own.

All of us?

Do your own cooking.

All of us?

Meaning? - You’re not the only man on earth.

- Meaning what? - I want a baby.

We have time.

I mean, honestly. Really. Sincerely.

What? - That’s right.

I want a baby in the next 24 hours.

You’re incredible.

Look at Anquetil, the cycling champ.

Every time his wife came to visit, he’d fall behind.

I have to be in shape Sunday.

In that case, I’m leaving.

"In that case, I’m leaving."

- I am. - "I am."

You think I’m crazy. I’m not.

"You think I’m crazy. I’m not."

I’m going home to Copenhagen.

"I’m going home to Copenhagen."

Okay, I’ll do what you want.

"Okay, I’ll do what you want."

- I want a baby. - I -

I don’t see why, all of a sudden.

Because, right away.

I’m saying it since I thought you loved me.

But since you don’t, it’s quite simple.

I’ll just ask the first guy I meet.

- I bet you won’t. - I bet I will.

Then go ahead.

It’ll do you good.

Police.

A terrorist just threw a bomb nearby. Can we look around?

You read the communist paper?

Nice work. Keep it up.

I knew you wouldn’t dare ask anybody.

How about those soft-boiled eggs?

How about a baby?

Anybody.

I’ll call Alfred.

Shall I get him?

You make me sick.

- Coward. - All right.

I’ll get him.

EMILE TAKES ANGELA AT HER WORD

BECAUSE HE LOVES HER

ANGELA FALLS INTO THE TRAP

BECAUSE SHE LOVES HIM

You heard me.

Is Alfred there?

Come up.

What for?

Just come up.

Well?

What’d you tell him?

- That I want a baby. - You jerk.

- I said, come up. - And the light bulbs?

- I forgot. - Jerk.

- There are limits. - What’s that mean?

It means what it means.

Don’t avoid the issue. What limits?

I’m acting just like you.

Women have a right to dodge issues, Mr. Emile.

Men don’t.

- By what right? - Because.

Say something nice.

Leave me alone.

- Please. - Me too, please.

IT’S BECAUSE THEY’RE IN LOVE

THAT EVERYTHING WILL GO WRONG

FOR ANGELA AND EMILE,

WHO MISTAKENLY BELIEVE

THEY CAN GO TOO FAR

BECAUSE OF THEIR MUTUAL

AND UNDYING LOVE

- What’s the matter? - Emile has something to tell you.

Not me. Angela does.

No, Emile does.

Not me. Emile does.

Absolutely not.

Absolutely not.

What?

Emile does.

Make up your minds. Breathless is on TV tonight.

- Well, Angela? - Well, Emile?

Well, Angela-Emile?

Will you sire a child for the lady present?

Is this a tragedy or a comedy?

With women you never know.

- Come into the bathroom with me? - May I?

If you mind, say so. - No, I’m delighted.

Why are you doing this?

I don’t know.

Want me to stay?

Want me to go?

You always say yes. It’s dumb.

Jesus told Matthew, "Get off the trolley and pump up my tires."

She’s pulling your leg.

Well, I’m going to eat at Chez Marcel.

Me, too. So long, Angela.

Wait for me.

No, you bug us.

Get lost, you stupid bastards!

And me?

What am I?

Aren’t you two gone yet?

Are you going with him or me?

Yes, men are just as curious as women.

With whoever does the most extraordinary thing.

- Well? - It’s nothing but bad theater.

You’re both mean. Never trifle with love.

- By distrusting women. - We’re splitting.

I love you.

What did you say, Angela?

I don’t love you.

- Okay, Angela, that’s peachy. - Peachy and cream.

"Farewell, Camille.

Return to your convent.

All men are lying, fickle, false,

garrulous, hypocritical and arrogant.

In love, we are often betrayed,

often hurt,

and often unhappy.

But we love.

And on the brink of the grave

we turn to look back and we say,

’I have often suffered,

I have sometimes been mistaken,

but I have loved.

I have lived my life

and not some substitute

forged out of my pride and world-weariness."’

"She exits."

LOVELY BREASTS

Be right back.

Why do men always leave saying "Be right back"?

They’re cowards.

It makes up for all women being ugly.

In that case, I’ll sulk.

There, she’s sulking.

I hope you realize I’m sulking.

I’m ignoring it on purpose.

Then there’s no reason to sulk.

I’m not sulking, so that you’ll stop sulking.

Men always have the last word.

Women always act like victims.

In that case, I refuse to sulk.

Then I’ll sulk.

- What do we do? - Whatever you like.

I’ll join you at the Zodiac.

If we do it, I must see you naked.

Right? - Right.

Why? We can meet you later at the Neptuna.

Vera Cruz is showing. - With your pal Burt Lancaster.

To the Zodiac.

Off with your clothes.

Where do we sit?

Cheri-Bibi.

With Cheri-Bibi you’re about to discover

all the savage sensual delights of the Amazon.

Disgusting!

- It’s your friend’s fault. - Lousy music.

- When do you go on? - In 15 minutes.

Look at Angela.

- Come here often? - Not often.

Are you enjoying the show?

She’s milk chocolate.

That’s colonial diplomacy.

You make me sick!

In comedy,

as in tragedy, late in Act Three, the heroine hesitates.

Her Fate is in the balance.

It’s what old Corneille and young Moliere call

suspense...ion.

You prefer me in pajamas

or an overnight-gown, my darling?

Pajamas.

I’ll wear my overnight-gown.

It’s more practical.

It’s more practical.

What have you done now?

What did I do now?

The soap’s all mushy.

No, it isn’t.

- Yes, it is. - No, it isn’t.

I said it’s...

Besides...

Next time, I think...

You agree? - I agree, darling, but I think...

You idiot.

I’m not speaking to you.

I’m not speaking to you either.

We’re not speaking?

We’re not speaking.

My fanny’s cold.

Go to sleep.

I have a cold fanny.

We’re not speaking.

MONSTER

EVA-CUATE YOUR ASS OUT OF HERE

EXECUTIONER

PERUVIAN MUMMY

CON ARTIST

SARDINE

ALL WOMEN

TO THE FIRING SQUAD

What is it?

I can’t hear a thing.

- What is it? - Call for you.

Coming.

There’s a trembling in my heart

And my hands are shaky

No one could possibly be more unhappy than me

Who’s calling?

I’m calling.

Why "no kidding"?

Nothing. Just "no kidding."

No, I don’t forgive you.

Yes, I forgive him.

What?

Why...

When I begged you for a baby.

I went... brrr.

I just remembered...

you piss me off!

- Something wrong, Mr. Recamier? - She can go fry an egg.

My face looks just awful

but I have a cute...

- Now what? - Phone.

Coming.

Hi, Alfred. Just a second.

I’m listening.

Well...

something important came up.

Yes, last night.

Last night.

What "no kidding"?

Nothing. I said "No kidding."

Not right now.

Because.

Not right now.

In a half hour at Chez Marcel.

In a half hour at Chez Marcel.

What?

I said okay. Don’t you understand French?

How are you?

How’s Jules and Jim coming along?

Moderato.

Hey, Suzanne, you okay?

No, I wanted to see you.

What’re you reading?

Shoot the Piano Player?

I saw the movie.

Aznavour is fabulous.

The factory gave me the sack.

For handing out tracts.

That why you called last night?

Think I could temp at the Zodiac?

Can’t the Party help?

They kicked me out, too.

No kidding?

I always got up too late to sell the Sunday paper.

How much does stripe-ties pay? - Striptease.

Stripe-ties. It’s American, not English.

- Really? - I’m telling you.

You don’t mind undressing for men?

No, I despise humanity.

So do I.

- What’s the pay? - Thirty francs a day.

Think I can try it out?

Talk to Luciano,

or else Bianchini.

He wants girls for Marseilles.

My girlfriend Lola went to Marseilles.

She ended up in Buenos Aires.

In that case, try Luciano.

Damn, I forgot to tell you.

Emile just asked me to spy on you.

- What for? - I dunno.

In case you see Alfred.

- Didn’t you break up? - I’m sorry we did.

- He had nice shoulders. - I love Emile’s knees.

- What good are knees? - Knees squeeze.

Mr. Luciano.

- What’s he looking at? - The girls from the pool.

Good luck. - See you.

I’m late.

Hi, Angela.

Been here long?

No, 27 years.

What’ll you have?

A Dubonnet.

What shall we talk about?

Dunno.

I’m scared.

So am I.

I’m scared.

Did my call today surprise you?

I wonder.

Were you glad?

I wonder.

What’ll we talk about?

I don’t know.

I’m thinking.

In the morning paper...

there was a funny article.

What?

A girl’s in love with two guys at the same time.

She sends them express letters,

arranging to meet them, the first at Gare du Nord,

and the other, two hours later, in southern Paris.

She sends them off.

And just as they go off...

she realizes she mixed up the envelopes.

The letter which starts "Paul darling"

is in the envelope to Pierre, and vice versa.

So she’s in a panic.

She rushes to the first guy’s place.

The letter hasn’t arrived yet.

So she says, "Darling, you’ll get an express letter.

Don’t believe what’s in it."

So she has to explain everything.

In the end,

he throws her out

when he learns she’s got another guy.

So she thinks,

"I’ve lost one, but I still have the other one."

She rushes across town to see the second guy.

But he’s received her letter.

The guy doesn’t seem at all upset.

On the contrary.

She says, "You’re so sweet. You forgive me."

He’s surprised but keeps quiet. She tells him the story,

thinking he wants to humiliate her first.

Then, suddenly, he throws her out, too,

as he shows her his letter.

And she realizes

she hadn’t mixed up the envelopes.

And then?

Nothing. She was a bit like you.

Me? Not on your life.

I don’t mean the story.

But... I dunno...

the personality.

Always getting things wrong.

No kidding.

Why’re you looking at me that way?

Because I love you.

Come off it.

I do.

I didn’t sleep last night.

I realized that.

- All by yourself? - Of course.

It’s not true.

Does that bother you?

That it’s not true?

I don’t know.

Yes, it’s true.

I don’t know what’s true or not.

I always get things wrong.

But there’s no way of knowing.

For example, tell me a lie.

- It’s raining. - And now the truth.

The sun’s out.

What’s wrong?

Your expression didn’t change.

So what?

But the truth should look different from a lie.

What of it?

You just need to know.

You know.

But others don’t have to believe you.

And that’s too bad.

It means every man for himself.

People always manage somehow.

That’s just it. It’s sad.

Why don’t you believe I love you?

Because I want to be sure.

So do I.

You’re not even sure?

About me, yes. But not you.

Then everything’s okay.

- No, it’s not. - But for me it doesn’t matter

whether I love you or not.

Have pity on two blind men.

Not with me, you don’t.

Oops, sorry.

It’s these dark glasses.

You can’t see a thing.

I never saw them before.

We were informers together.

The one in blue is Albert.

I like him.

He came up with a neat stunt.

He wrote to pregnant women saying,

"Send me 10 francs,

and I’ll predict your child’s sex.

If I’m wrong, I’ll refund your money."

He was right half the time, obviously.

It’s a great scheme.

I think it’s disgusting.

It’s not dishonest.

Half the time he was wrong.

So he refunded their money.

But even so.

What I find disgusting

is being with one guy

and thinking of another.

If you don’t know what you’re saying, keep quiet,

Mr. Alfred.

I know what I’m saying: You’re thinking of Emile.

That’s just it, no.

How can I convince you that I love you?

Got any change?

Wanna hear a record?

Which one?

"Itsy-Bitsy Bikini"?

- No. Charles. - Aznavour?

Look at this photo.

What’s this photo?

A photo.

It’s funny, when I look at you

While not a single word is said

I know I had a drink or two

But that’s not what’s gone to my head

I laugh and I recall our youth

Perhaps you’ll say that I’m uncouth

But it’s high time you knew the truth

About the way you make me feel

And what the future holds in store

For I can’t stand it anymore

Why should I even try and hide

Whatever I may feel inside

You lie, you curse and you provoke

And then you treat it as a joke

You know at times you go too far

Even in front of all my friends

How could we hope to make amends

You know that you’ve let yourself go

You look a sight, you look great

Your stocking seams not even straight

That old faded dressing gown

Your hair in curls hanging down

What could I have been thinking of

Was it with you I fell in love

Are you the girl that could inspire

A heart with passion and desire

I gaze at you in sheer despair

And see your mother standing there

In front of strangers you’re the same

You don’t mind putting me to shame

You contradict each word I say

Why, you would turn night into day

You like to hurt me when you can

I’m just a rag and not your man

I hit the jackpot, yes, I know

You’ve let yourself go

At times you’re cruel beyond control

Have you no heart, have you no soul

And as I take a look at life

I realize you’re my wife

A little effort, not much more

And things could be just as before

You know you’d lose a little weight

If you watched all that you ate

A little style, a little grace

Try to put a smile on your face

I’d never hate you if I tried I only want you by my side

So try and be the girl I knew

Let’s really start our love anew

I want to hold you in my arms

And then surrender to your charms

So try and set my heart aglow

Come close to me

And let yourself go

Who’s the girl?

Isn’t it obvious?

It’s obvious.

You haven’t answered my question.

What question?

What can I do to prove I love you?

Yes, what could you do?

If I ran my head into a wall, would you believe me?

I wonder if I should say "of course"

or "maybe."

I’ll do it.

I believe you.

1:30. I have to run.

Shit. Three francs. I don’t have enough.

I don’t have any money.

I’ve got an idea.

Let me ask you a question.

Answer yes or no, okay?

- Coming? - Just a sec.

Answer yes, and I owe you 100 francs.

Answer no, and you owe me 100, okay?

Okay.

Here’s the question:

Can you loan me 100 francs?

Then you owe me.

I’ll pay you back next week.

You never wait for me.

Because I have to get lunch ready.

Lunch for Emile?

Lunch for Emile?

I’m thinking.

C’mon, Angela. I mean, c’mon, really...

If in five minutes the awning’s still down,

it means I’ll be back down.

And if it’s up?

It means I won’t be back...

that I’ve made up with Emile...

and that I’m happy.

I want to be alone. Must I say it in Chinese?

- And this photo? - That’s ancient history.

You could say "kiss me" if you want to be forgiven.

Kiss me.

- I want a baby. - Don’t start that again.

I’m not starting. I’m continuing.

Don’t continue.

I’m not. I’m starting again.

Stupid bitch!

I want a baby.

Don’t be crude, Angela.

Don’t be mean, Emile.

That plaid skirt doesn’t suit you.

Good.

I don’t want to look nice for anyone.

I want a baby.

Stop being an idiot.

I’m going to the Zodiac.

Sure, go undress in public. You make me sick.

You jerk. We can’t live on your 250 francs.

You’re a coward. - It beats being stupid.

Why is it stupid to want a baby?

Stop or I’ll leave.

Where would you go?

I don’t know... Mexico.

- You’re nuts. - No, you are.

I want a baby.

Excuse me.

Would you sleep with this lady to get her pregnant?

This is hardly the moment.

I have a busy day.

Is Angela here?

She goes on after Dominique.

- What’re you drinking? - Is Angela on next?

- Why not? - She left.

- Old fart! - Same to you.

IS

SO UNHAPPY

THAT HE DOESN’T GIVE A DAMN

So it’s without meaning to...

that people act unfairly,

and they’re unfair and mean.

Without meaning to...

or so

it seems to me.

And they’re unfair and mean.

I need the phone.

Bye, angel.

This is Emile Recamier.

Is Alfred Lubitsch home?

Tell him I’m going to Mexico.

Why Mexico?

It’s not fair.

It’s always when we’re together that we’re not together.

And vice versa.

Meaning what?

Meaning I’m going to Mexico.

I’m not a girl who behaves

I really can be very cruel

But men never rant and rave

Because I am

Beauti...

ful

I don’t know what to tell you.

Tell me the truth.

I was at Alfred’s.

I slept with him.

I don’t believe you.

It’s true.

But why, for chrissake?

To have a baby.

You wouldn’t do it.

You’re pulling my leg.

Maybe I am.

I don’t know if this is a comedy

or a tragedy,

but it’s a masterpiece.

He played that Aznavour song.

You know, the one that always gets to me.

It begins...

No, it’s...

No, it’s...

No, it’s...

Please, Emile.

I’m turning in.

Lights out?

Lights out.

It’s sad.

Yes, it’s sad.

I’m sorry, honey.

I’m not speaking to you.

Read it, moron. Even if you don’t love me,

I love you.

And if you’re pregnant?

It’d be terrible.

I just had an idea.

So did I.

It’s quite simple.

- We won’t know for a few... - days if you’re...

pregnant.

- To make sure... - you get me pregnant so...

- I’d be sure... - of being...

the father.

Here we go.

ONCE

THE DEED WAS DONE,

ANGELA TURNED ON THE LIGHT

Phew.

We had a close call.

What’s so funny?

Angela...

...damn you. - Me?

Not damn me.

But a dame, me.

THE END