Original subtitles

Eugenia has come to.

Okay, I'm coming.

I'm toId Eugenia is still alive.

Good evening, Mr. Tanner.

Can I speak with her?

Not just now, she's still too weak.

You'd better wait.

Yes, I understand.

I can wait, provided of course,

you think that she'll survive.

It's far too early to tell;

there's no way of knowing before this evening.

Eugenia?

Can you hear me?

Then listen.

You recognize me, don't you?

I'm Attila Tanner, the writer.

I'd like to write a book based on your father's life.

I'd like to understand him.

He was still human... as we are.

ineed to know everything.

You've got to tell me everything about him.

I promise I won't say a word about you.

I'm going to try...

On one condition.

Listen to me.

I will tell you everything... if you swear...

that when I've told you... you must... you must kill me.

You think that what I'm asking is horrible.

But living would be even more...

- horrible. - Alright.

Tell me everything.

Father and I, we lived... just outside Berlin.

Our life was... a dialogue.

Life was a permanent dialogue

between my father and me.

The truth is, the man I called my father

was really my stepfather.

He'd married my mother right after meeting her,

three months before I was born.

She died two days after giving birth to me.

It's late; you should be going to bed.

I love to see you work...

My stepfather was a renowned writer.

Misunderstood by the public at large,

but a great writer, nonetheless.

He had brought me up with care and devotion,

and I had come to acquire

an unreasoned admiration for him.

Since his creative work

didn't meet with the success it deserved,

he took refuge in essays, book reviews,

and fortunately, well-paid conferences,

living in the hope that someday,

his real work would be widely recognized.

He dreamed of being carried in triumph.

These past few years, his interest focused mainly

on eroticism, on erotic writers,

on erotic traditions throughout the world,

and throughout the ages.

He also studied all the sciences

involved with eroticism.

I often stayed alone in our big house,

dreaming, waiting for my stepfather to come back.

The sound of his footsteps on the stairs

made me jump for joy.

I often went on long walks, thinking about him,

about his work, about our quiet and peaceful life.

When I felt lonely,

I'd rummage through his well-stocked library,

sure that I would find some new book to read,

or perhaps an old, rare edition

of an erotic book,

which had survived many generations,

and had become a classic.

"Oh, her breasts pressing against my chest!

Oh, her eager mouth!

Her sex opening like a flower before my own.

Her look...

in which pain and pleasure was so intimately entwined

so as to be indistinguishable.

A bloody string of pearls graced her neck,

dropping one by one on my body,

each leaving a stain upon it.

The gaping wound in her chest..."

How are you, darling?

What are you reading?

Oh... 'A Barbarian in Asia'.

Do you like it?

No, not really...

I'll never forget the first time snow fell that winter.

As if by some enchantment, everything became white,

the trees, the roofs, the earth!

Father had gone into town.

He came back earlier than usual.

I'd curled up on the couch before the fireside,

and I felt a strange sensation...

a mixture of well-being and apprehension.

Eugenia...

inoticed that while I was gone this morning,

you took the book that I'd hidden there.

I did.

How did you find out?

There's nothing to it.

I left it standing this way,

and I found it standing that way.

Are you angry?

No.

On the contrary,

it's high time you read such things.

I think so, too.

You did like it, I hope.

More than anything I've read in my whole life...

inever would have imagined

that our conversation could end this way.

I felt as if I'd been jolted into another form of reality,

and better yet, that I'd had the revelation

of my father's true nature.

I felt that he had put himself within my reach.

We had created a form of complicity.

Yes, that's exactly what it was; complicity.

I was my father's accomplice,

allowed to share with him

things that I though t were forbidden.

I didn't sleep well at all that night.

I got up at dawn, and went out for a long walk.

I strode through the snow with deliberately large steps,

my head empty of thought,

as if I were trying to shake off the feeling

which had made me so ill at ease

the night before.

By the time I came home at around noon,

my father had left the house.

He'd left a message for me on his desk;

"I'll be coming home late tonight.

Read this book,

which I personally found quite interesting.

I'm certain you won't be bored."

Eugenia had opened her eyes.

Before her stood her father,

who had surreptitiously come into her room.

She was naked, and she knew

that her small, pointed breasts

often caught his eye.

That's why she offered them to her father's lips

as he knelt by the bed and began to bite her nipples,

his desire showing

while his hand sought out her sex...

fresh, wet...

His caresses made her realize for the first time

that she had become a woman,

and now, at this very moment,

her father was but a man breathing hard with desire,

a Machiavellian look in his eyes.

Eugenia, you've just discovered

life's deepest purpose:

The quest, the grail mankind has sought

through the ages:

The ultimate power over human beings.

Yes, the power which comes

through pleasure and giving pain,

living each moment with intensity and awareness

while they suffer.

You'll find out that the key to life

is nothing but your own pleasure.

You'll be amazed to find out that pleasure

is always at someone else's expense.

We'll carry this to its ultimate expression

through wounds, and blood and death.

I know you'll love every moment of it.

You'll revel in the secret knowledge

of having done something savagely beautiful

but forbidden.

I accept.

I'll do absolutely anything you want me to do,

anything you say.

Your will, will be mine.

We'll act as one.

I had a premonition...

that life would be full of passions.

Oh, it's marvelous what we've become to each other.

Father, I promise to obey you.

I'm going to Paris tomorrow for an important conference.

I'm going to take advantage of the occasion

to commit the perfect crime...

and I know it's possible.

There is a secret

in committing the perfect crime,

and that is the absence of any visible motive.

We won't have any visible motive

in as much as we won't know who our victim is

'till chance puts her on our way.

We're going to pick a model,

one of those girls who pose naked

for amateurs of so-called 'artistic nudes'.

Poor imbeciles!

There are quite a few such joints in Brussels.

We'll rent one and take whatever model they give us.

They'll pick our victim for us.

Another important thing is making sure

that witnesses end up totally co nfused.

The way we'll do it is simple:

We will simply not try to hide.

No one ever sees the obvious.

Real killers always try to cover up their tracks,

but they're always missing clues on their way.

We, on the other hand,

have to make sure that we are seen.

I'd never made such a long trip before.

But that's not why I felt so strangely

overcome by emotion.

The Eiffel Tower and the Champs Elysees

were nothing but mere back drops

to the adventure which was about to begin.

Father was silent too,

but I knew he felt the same way I did.

Can I help you?

I reserved a room; my name is Mr. Radeck.

Oh, yes, of course.

Here's your key, Mr. Radeck.

Thank you...

Maybe you'd like to freshen up a bit?

A few people were waiting for us at the hotel;

friends, newspapermen,

somebody from the publisher's office...

people like that.

I didn 't see the point of sticking arou nd,

and decided to go up to the room and wait for my father.

Why don't you rest awhile? I'll be right up...

I'm sorry I won't have much time to spare.

What newspaper did y ou say

- you worked with? - The Gazette de Puteaux.

The what?

Do you mind if I take a picture of you in the lobby?

I'd rather be photographed

reading one of my own books.

That's all I ever read,

so I know the quality of what I'm absorbing.

Who's there?

Albert.

You can come in.

Did you reserve a table at the nightclub?

Darling, of course I did.

At the Taboo.

Just in time to catch the show.

I hear it's the best in Paris these days.

Does that suit you?

Suits me fine.

Hand me the towel, will you?

I love to see you like this: Naked.

Your body is just like your mother's.

Got to change; I'll pick you up later.

Just a moment.

Alright Eugenia, let's go.

We'll use the artists' entrance.

You're with the show, I'll bet?

Yeah, we're putting on a rain dance.

Oh, I see!

Every detail had been worked out to perfection.

Father had worked everything out

as if it were mathematics.

We caught a flight to Brussels,

and got there at the exact time,

so that the rest wouId naturally fall into place.

A session, please.

How many do you want?

One model cost you a hundred.

A girl and a man cost you two,

more than two is four hundred.

One girl is just fine.

Step right in.

Thank you.

How are you? I'm ready if you are.

Sit on the piano...

Could we add some sadistic twist to it?

Sure! But that's an extra hundred francs.

Allright.

You mind giving me a hand?

Eugenia!

Bye!

We took the last plane back to Paris,

and made it back to the nigh tclub.

It was late ; the show wasn 't over yet.

A man who thought he was a comic

was putting on the worst act I'd ever seen.

Now, why should a fool musician

be banging away on cymbals in the middle of a zoo?

"Bang", he said,

"They don't like the trombone."

"How do you know?" I said.

"Well," he said, "When the monkeys like it,

they throw me whole bananas.

And when they don't, they just throw the peels.

No one paid any attention to us.

Why are you laughing?

It ain't funny!

No one seemed to have missed us,

and most anybody probably would have sworn

we'd spent the whole evening in the club.

I'll pick up the story where I left off.

Seals like cymbals,

Monkeys seemed to be his favorite audience,

and I asked him why.

He said, "You idiot! I was testing you!

And every once in a while, they throw you a fish!

So, there was this idiot blowing cymbals:

Bang, bang, bang and bang,

moving like this all the while.

Will you stop laughing so that I can get a word in?

Everybody knows monkeys like trombones!

"There," he said, "that's a seal of approval!"

You see what I mean?

The whole thing was much like a game.

A few hours later, we were attending a cocktail party

at my father's French publishing house.

The women hovered around my father

like a bunch of silly bees.

I was terribly jealous.

Do you like horse racing?

We have some great tracks in Paris.

I love to bet, but I always lose.

It doesn't bother me, I continue anyway.

Another dedication? It's for...

Would you care for a cup of Scotch, Mr. Radeck?

Thank you.

To your health.

Cheers!

Whom should I autograph it to?

My brother, Andre.

You're not I istening, are you?

Oh, the mystery that is woman!

Such eyes, limpid yet enigmatic.

Women are such an unfathomable mystery,

such a charming mystery.

Earth to Eugenie, come in please, come in please.

Excuse me.

Sure.

I'm aware of that.

Miss, just a moment, please!

Are you talking to me?

Yes, you!

You're Eugenia Radeck,

and I know many things about you and your father.

What do you mean?

Oh no, nothing special.

However, I'd like to have a chance

to talk a little with your father.

Tell him I'm inviting him home for a drink,

after the cocktail.

That way, we'll all be able to talk far more quietly.

Why don't you talk to him here?

Here? Oh, no!

I hate crowds and I'm not dressed for the occasion.

I hate putting on a tie, you see.

Please try to set it up, would y ou?

I know I can count on you.

I'm Attila Tanner.

You're Attila Tanner,

- the famous writer? - Yeah, that's right.

That's what they say.

I'll see to it Father accepts.

I'm certainly glad that you accepted my invitation

to come over to my place.

I'd like to tell you that I've read all your books.

That's right.

I've been following your career,

and admiring you for many years.

I'm flattered.

I feel quite rewarded by the fact

that a man such as you

should be interested in my modest endeavors.

inever would have believed it.

Would you have me believe

that you consider your work as insignificant?

You're highly intelligent, and you know it.

Here's your drink.

You've got me cornered.

If I admit that I'm intelligent,

I'd sound pretentious, isn't that right?

And, if on the contrary,

I should counter with some pat phrase,

I'd sound like a hypocrite.

But you are.

I beg your pardon?

Here's to your success.

Yes, you are a hypocrite.

It happens that I know you better than you think.

Yes, I know.

You've read all my books and likely, all my essays.

You're quite right.

And I know you inside out.

Here, you once wrote,

in the 'Black Arts', Chapter Three:

"Only awareness of the harshness of natural laws

can slow us down

before the powerful attraction of black magic."

What's hypocritical about that?

Nothing.

But, in 'Necromicon', you write... -

"By the very virtue of its immense power,

black science can draw you deep into demonic life,

and once you're on that path, nothing can ever stop you."

There's a flagrant contradiction.

When were you sincere?

in the first case, or in the second?

in both cases.

You're aware

ten years has gone by since 'Black Arts,'

while 'Necromicon' is hardly a year old.

Surely you recognize the possibility of change.

You mean that you have evolved much in ten years?

It's obvious.

Only an idiot wouldn't change his mind,

and I am sure you wouldn't dare suggest the opposite.

From what you just said, may I conclude

that you lead a demonical life?

I am not sure though,

whether you make your daughter share it.

So what? It bothers you?

Why should it?

But, what about the law?

Are you referring to the natural law?

Well, I was thinking of man-made laws;

laws made to impose some form of social order.

What about you, Mr. Tanner?

Were you never tempted to transgress those laws?

Of course, I was.

But it never went beyond the stage of wishful thinking.

I'm only an intellectual.

I don't indulge in wishful thinking.

It's been said that mankind

is divided into two main categories:

Those who submit to the circumstances of life,

and those who act.

Among the latter are those who think first.

That doesn't stop them from acting afterward.

The others act by instinct,

and stop to think after the action.

That's the major difference,

but they're both men of action.

The world of tomorrow will belong to us.

And you, Mr. Radeck?

I suppose that you act

only after thinking things out thoroughly.

Does your daughter share these feelings?

Passionately.

Then I suppose that you, let's say,

collaborate closely with your father?

Yes.

I see.

I often wondered

exactly what sort of relationship you two had.

I should have guessed.

But I tend to beware of my imagination.

My mind plays the weirdest tricks on me.

That's why I'm glad you clued me in.

We didn't tell you anything, Mr. Tanner.

No, of course!

You didn't come out and say you were lovers.

But I'm warning you that from this moment on,

I'm going to keep a close watch on you,

and everything you do.

I must say I'm very much interested in your schemes.

There's nothing unhealthy

or moralistic about my curiosity.

A writer needs to dip into genuine,

extravagant characters

to add texture to his own.

You can watch us to your heart's content.

Father decided we'd drive back.

The trip turned out to be very pleasant.

We drove very slowly.

Father looked almost happy.

He was boiling over with energy.

I'd never seen him that way before.

The people we met along on the way probably thought

we were a newly married couple on a honeymoon.

Was there anything in the newspapers?

Did they run a story about it yet?

Yes, but they don't say much.

A model murdered during a photo shoot.

The girl was found dead in a studio in Brussels.

She was killed sadistically

by a 'bizarre couple dressed in red'.

That's all?

It's working out exactly as you said.

How could it have been otherwise?

I spent years figuring out everything,

working out every detail.

No one will ever find out we did it.

Impunity.

We can do whatever we want with a total impunity.

And Tanner?

Oh, yes, Tanner.

He's a harmless maniac.

What do you think?

I'm not so sure.

He's intelligent; a highly refined intelligence.

He understands us.

in the days that followed...

- our complicity deepened.

I was so glad; I was happy.

The papers were devoting less and less space

to the murder.

The Belgian police were following

all sorts of false leads.

All the while, on my long, lonely walks,

I kept on seeing the dead woman's face.

At night, it sometimes came to haunt my dreams.

I looked for my father then,

so as to touch him and feel his touch...

Why don't you get some sleep, Father?

No, not just yet.

I have some things to do.

By the way, would you rather

I went on calling you 'Father',

or would you like me to call you 'Albert'?

That's funny.

You know, nobody ever called me 'Albert'

except your mother.

You never told me how Mother died.

I told you, darling.

She died a couple of days after giving birth to you.

Yes, but you never told me how.

That's true.

And today, you've got a right to know the truth.

It's a sordid tale.

I had to wait... till you were born,

so I could kill her.

Does that horrify you?

I simply wanted to know.

If I had known her, it might have been different.

Do you mind telling me why you did it?

I had found out that she was cheating on me,

and I'd been suffering the pains of hell

for a long time.

I can't bear being cheated on.

I can't bear it.

But I waited... because of you.

I wanted you.

I knew I'd have a girl,

and I had to wait to see you born.

The rest was easy.

My life changed entirely when you were born,

and there was no part in it for her.

If you thought I'd been untrue to you,

would you kill me?

I'd do worse than that.

But I wouldn't survive you - I'd kill myself.

I'd kill myself

because nothing in the world would matter to me anymore.

I'd do hara-kiri.

That's the only way of killing yourself,

if you want to die with dignity...

Forgive me.

Now, let's talk over all these plans I made.

How about it?

Oh, how your eyes shine when I say this.

Oh, yes! Tell me all about them!

Let's do something different this time,

and have fun doing it.

The occasion turned up quite unexpectedly,

within a few days.

We'd gone to see some very average movie

in a nearby town,

and were driving back home early in the evening,

when suddenly, I saw a girl

standing on the side of the road,

trying to thumb a ride.

Did you see her?

Did you see her? Let's pick her up.

I'm going to Hamburg.

- So you are. - I knew it!

Oh, sit in front. There's room for three...

She was Austrian, a student, and an utter idiot.

She was tickled pink having run into us,

and told us so, effusively.

You look like such nice people!

How lucky can a girl get!

I usually get picked up by creeps... -

or, at least they try, but no go.

I wait for some nice people like you to come along,

and this time, I didn't have to wait around at all.

Are you married?

Yes. How could you tell?

I'm psychic.

My friends at school can't believe it.

I can judge a person just by seeing them.

If I'd been a boy, I'd have been a cop.

Nobody puts anything over on this girl.

I know whom I'm dealing with at first glance.

That's why I don't mind hiking.

Anybody I don't like, I'm out like a shot!

We invited her to have dinner with us,

and then spend the night at our place.

She was very happy about it.

Kitty! Come here.

Sure.

And she was even happier when I suggested

she put on some of my things for dinner.

Try it on; it's about your size.

Thank y ou! I'll try it on.

Yeah!

Okay.

I'm sure it fits.

It's awfully sweet of you.

- Give me a hand. - Okay.

There!

Careful!

There's some hair caught in the knots.

Buttons! Buttons!

Life's got too many buttons!

I think it will look very good on you.

I like it.

It really suits me.

What do you think?

Black really suits me; I look like someone else.

Do you know how to play the King Edward game?

No! How do you play it?

Wait a minute.

You take a glass, and then you say,

"To King Edward the First".

Then you do this:

One, one, one, one and you drink up.

The next player does it twice for King Edward the Second.

And thrice for King Edward the Third,

and so on.

The penalty for a mistake

is emptying your glass in one gulp.

It's easy to play and it gets to be funny in no time.

Alright, let's play.

And I say you start first.

Oh, alright.

It's the silliest game I ever heard of.

But let's go: One, one, one, one and one.

To Edward the First.

Alright, I guess it's my turn to try.

To King Edward the Second!

One, two, one, two, one, two, one, two.

To King Edward the Second.

All together now!

My turn now: A toast to King Edward the Third.

One, two, three; one, two, three;

one, two, three; one, two, three;

one, two, three...

Let's drink to the health of King Edward the Sixth...

One, two, three, four, five, six.

You're one tap short there!

Down the hatch now!

Go on!

Go on! Let's see you do it!

A toast to Edward the Sixth.

One, two, three, four, five, six;

one, two, three, four, five, six;

one, two, three, four, five, six;

one, two, three, four, five, six;

one, two, three, four, five, six;

one, two, three, four, five, six...

Alright, once more around the block.

Well, I guess it's my turn now.

Let's drink to the health of King Edward the Sixth.

One, two, three, four, five, six;

one, two, three, four, five, six;

one, two, three, four, five, six;

one, two, three, four, five, six;

one, two, three, four, five, six...

To the health of King Edward the Sixth!

One, two, three, four, five, six; .

One, two, three, four, five, six...

You know what? I've got it!

I understand!

Let's drink to Edward the Seventh!

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven;

one, two, three, four, five, six, seven;

one, two, three, four, five, six, seven...

Oh, that's fast!

- Go on; hey, you fluffed! - Stop, stop, stop!

Sorry, bottoms up!

Alright. If you say so.

I guess I've got to believe you.

Alright, to Edward the Seventh!

Yeah, yeah! Hear! Hear!

Let's play another game.

Alright. What?

Let's play dead.

I'm sure you will like it.

It's really funny.

Oh no, that game will scare me!

Hang on. Let me show you.

Alright, I'm dead.

And if I move, let me be punished.

Because the dead never flinch.

Now, try to make her react.

And if she does, we'll devise some horrible punishment.

- Alright, I'm dead. - Go on.

Are you ticklish?

Tickle, tickle, tickle... won't you move?

Oh, she is dead!

You lost, and punished you shall be!

What are you going to do to me?

I'll think of something.

Oh, I've got an idea.

The punishment fits the crime!

You're sentenced to watch...

I mean, to do a striptease.

- What? - That's it.

That's right.

You were great.

Are you happy?

It's your turn now.

I don't m ind.

At dawn, the girl's body disappeared forever

in the lake.

It was the first time we used the lake

to dispose of a body.

Eight others... five girls and three boys...

followed her in this watery grave,

all hitch hikers.

We were never worried about it.

One evening, Father took me along to Berlin.

Though it wasn't far,

I almost never went to Berlin.

The Church of Remembrance!

Ugly remembrance!

Why the devil should anyone want to remember?

I mean, wars or massacres or epidemics.

Why are churches built for that?

Men don't want to forget the fact that they're beasts.

And what's more,

they'd rather turn to a glorified past

rather than a happy future.

Come on, it's getting cold.

Do you like it?

Window-shopping seems to be a pleasure

only town folk are apt to enjoy.

How are you, Mr. Tanner?

Nice to see you, Mr. Radeck. How are you?

What are you doing in Berlin?

Well, I told you I'd be following your experiments.

That's the reason I'm here.

Is that so?

That's quite interesting!

And, what have you found out, Mr. Tanner?

A couple of fascinating things:

I'm referring to two murders.

Two? Isn't that a lot?

So it is.

Do you think we're responsible

for these murders?

Yes, they stand out as masterpieces.

You must be insane, Tanner, making such an accusation!

I'm convinced that no one but you

could have committed them.

Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Tanner.

Oh, I'm not trying to get anywhere

beyond where I got already, my dear girl.

I know about as much as I need to.

But someday, you're going to fall into your own trap.

Despite the intelligence you give me credit for?

You are smart, Mr. Radeck.

in fact, so smart that someday,

you'll outwit yourself.

Life always gets back at those who despise it.

Remember, I warned you.

We've got some shopping to do.

Goodbye, Mr. Tanner.

See you soon, Mr. Radeck.

Tanner's words had left their impact on me.

Had we gone too far?

How was it all going to end?

You're upset.

You mustn't worry about a thing.

Trust me, darling.

That madman is powerless against us.

You'll see!

We're going to do better yet.

You'll see!

I thought we should film everything.

Yes, it's a good idea.

Something new!

I need a special prey.

We'll get someone

who believes that you have fallen in love with him.

The meeting with you

didn't seem to have taken place.

It seemed that my father wasn't worried...

for he wanted to continue despite all.

Eugenia, it'll be fascinating and exciting,

a brand new game.

I believe I've found the man who fits my plan to a T:

A half-baked musician who plays trumpet

in some small club in town.

He tries to come on strong,

but he's naive and hypersensitive.

He doesn't go out with women,

and he might even be a virgin.

You won't have any trouble seducing him,

and maneuvering him.

Then, when all's said and done, we'll film his death.

Did you hear me?

It'll be our masterpiece!

He lived like a damn fool, and he'll die like a fool.

He'll be so miserable, he'll kill himself.

And we're going to watch him kill himself.

You're going to bewitch him right out of his life.

It won't be much fun making love with him.

No, it won't.

But that's how it is.

I will if you want me to.

I will if you ask me to.

I'll do absolutely anything you ask me to do.

I know I can count on you.

His apartment is on the second floor.

He lives alone.

Do you want me to try to meet him

tonight at the club?

That night, I went to the club and let myself be picked up,

at least that's what he thought,

by our next victim, Paul.

That's where he played, and not too badly at that.

Don't tell me you do your own laundry.

No.

There's this movie star, Brigitte Bardot,

who comes once a week.

Keeps the place clean; does the laundry.

You know, all that shit.

And, when I feel like it, she hops into bed,

and we make love.

I'm a great artist and I live like one.

Damn Miles Davis!

I'll never come within a mile of him!

Oh, here's somebody I know.

Wait a minute...

I know! It's Che Guevara!

That's right, baby; except it's Gue-vara.

It sounds like you admire him a lot.

Sure I do.

He knew what he wanted:

Revolution against

a continent's exploiters and sundry tyrants.

They got him in the end.

But he fought them, and he fought 'em well.

And yet, they killed him as if he were a mad dog.

They thought they'd cripple the revolution.

And all they did was give it a hero.

Why did you come up here with me?

To make love.

That's right.

That's pretty funny.

Really?

I didn't know I had such a reputation.

That's not funny.

It's true; I want you.

Paul was an ideal victim.

Father had been right; he was highly sensitive;

a fact which he tried to hide behind tough-guy attitudes.

Deep inside, he was a hopeless romantic,

a little shy and more than a little secretive.

At first, we met just to go to bed.

But his romantic side had taken over,

and he had come to trust me.

He was opening up, becoming

more and more candid, more and more himself.

And he was beginning to love me.

He still hurled himself

headlong into political monologues.

I'd qualify his views as dreamy idealism;

a quality which suited him perfectly well,

and, made him a passionate lover.

I could hardly understand the transformation

which was coming over me.

Paul's love for me

was like fresh water from a clear spring.

I felt so incredibly different.

And yet, I did once again

exactly what my father expected of me.

Did you make love with many women before me?

What do you want to know for?

Because you still have a lot to learn.

If you don't like it, get your ass out of here.

Come back in a couple of years.

Maybe you'll find I've learned a few more tricks by then

to keep you satisfied.

Oh! I've hurt his vanity.

What's more, you're a liar.

You'd never act this way if you loved me.

You know what you are?

A son of a bitch

who wanted me to believe his idiocies!

Just to impress me!

But in reality

you are nothing but a poor fool!

According to my father's plan,

I was supposed to stay

away from him for a couple of weeks.

But it didn 't take me long to realize that I missed him.

I thought about him all day long,

and it upset me.

I had to face the fact that I was in love with him,

that I needed him, that I needed to see him,

that I needed to be close to him.

One night, I sneaked out of the house.

It was the first time that I did something

against my father's wishes;

the first time I felt I was deceiv ing him.

You know, I was supposed to leave you.

I was supposed to tell you it was all over,

that you and me weren't made for each other,

that a man like y ou couldn't expect anything from me.

I was also supposed to tell you

that I'd met someone else: A real man.

And that I was getting married.

That he was handsome...

a real man with a real job.

I was also supposed to humiliate you,

make you feel utterly miserable.

Why?

Don't ask me.

The thing... where you're concerned,

the main thing is that I'm here,

here for you completely because I love you.

Yeah.

Paul, I need your help.

Oh, Paul! Darling!

I love you. I so need you.

I give myself to you, body and soul.

I'm sure you will help me to relive again.

Only you exist, for me, in this world.

Before you I lived in the dark,

it's true, and it's only now

thanks to you that I discovered love.

I can finally breathe...

it's as though I have been delivered...

How would you like to go away with me?

I'll take you far away from here.

Yes, yes!

Take me. Far from here!

Oh, I love you.

How are you, Mr. Radeck?

Excuse me, I'm in a hurry.

You seem a little flustered.

Look, I've about had it!

Get off my back, Tanner!

I won't stand for your persecution!

Take it easy, Mr. Radeck.

That's one strange way to behave.

I had just left Paul, and I felt so nervous.

I knew I had to talk with Father,

and I apprehended his reaction.

I had to tell him the truth.

I had to tell him I loved Paul,

and couldn't live without him.

I knew it wasn't going to be easy,

but I didn't want to postpone our conversation.

I wanted to get back to Paul that very evening.

What's the matter, Father?

I've told you everything.

Do what I asked.

You said you'd kill me, Tanner.

Do it. Please.

Eugenia, you don't need me.

Eugenia, you're dying.

Help me, please...