Original subtitles

For Christiane

MARIANNE AND JULIANE

You have to take Jan. - For how long?

I've got an assignment. I'm going to Bali...

...to write about Animism.

I'll be gone a year. - No way! Jan can only stay a few days.

I've no choice, I'm broke.

I can't spend 10 years playing nursemaid.

You should have thought of that before Jan was born.

We both wanted him.

Take him to your parents,

or find him a foster home.

I can't!

I tried for two years. I can't take it anymore.

Won't he miss you?

He's fond of you. - He's the only one in the world who is.

But I can't take him.

You understand.

My parents are too old.

And I've got my job.

You're her sister! - So?

You introduced us. - I didn't split you up.

I know. You didn't want us to break up.

You can take care of Jan. - Why do you think I've no kids myself?

She wanted three. - To shame me.

If that damned stud hadn't come along, we'd have had them.

Karl wasn't the only reason.

I guess he fucks better than I do.

Eat it now, or I'll have to warm it up again.

You think Marianne is different? Not a bitch like the others?

You're oversimplifying. - Who, me?

Who neglected his job to raise the kid?

Who turned down assignments until we starved?

Jan can only stay here a few days. - I'm sorry, Werner.

I'll find a place.

Can I count on you? - Yes.

I have to get out of this rut,

I have to start writing again.

Can't Wolfgang take care of Jan?

We just said for a few days! - Maybe your boyfriend feels differently.

About children, but not about Marianne.

Worst of all, when someone attacks her, I defend her!

When I'd rather kick her damned ass!

Is Bali a way out? Or is it really the only job you can get?

Marianne's behavior is her way out... of my life.

Your mistake was getting married. Who needs those rituals?

Everything but the visiting cards!

And that obsession of hers with cooking! Are you going to eat or not?

Just when I started to lead a normal life, she had to drop out just to spite me!

Now you're oversimplifying.

As if her dumb ideas weren't inside us too.

They're in you, they're in me, but we're too chicken or too reasonable.

I'll be right back.

Most people want babies who won't remember their mothers.

Jan doesn't remember Marianne.

How old was he when she left? - Two. I don't want to put him in a home.

Werner has no folks? - Been dead for years.

An orphan making his child an orphan!

Why don't you take him?

Stop guilt-tripping me!

What a pair of sisters!

You don't want kids, and Marianne gives up hers... to save humanity!

But you don't have kids either!

I'm changing that.

Really!

How far along? - Two months.

No kidding! What about your job?

I'll manage.

Every year there are 30,000 known cases of child abuse!

DOWN WITH THE ANTI-ABORTION ACT

78,000 children are crowded into orphanages

and 300,000 minors are in "temporary housing".

But what do the authorities care?

They want to protect the unborn! So do we, if they're wanted!

But a woman should be free to have an abortion, for whatever reason!

In any hospital, at State expense!

The wealthy, the educated have always had the choice!

It's the poor who can't afford children at all

or who can't afford any more, who get shafted!

But in the end, this Act is a humiliation for all of us!

That's why we demand its repeal!

Show who profits by the Act and who doesn't,

put it in a historical perspective.

If you take the historical tack, you have to go back to the Romans!

For you, Juliane. - Not now.

It seems to be very urgent.

Hello?

It is not that easy.

Where?

O.K., I'm coming.

I've got to go.

Take care of Jan, will you?

Juliane, we haven't finished. - Sorry, I've been chasing after her for two years.

You can decide without me.

I'll be right back, have fun.

At last!

Been in town long? - A few weeks.

I didn't know where you worked.

I didn't want to call the house. - Wolf wouldn't turn you in.

I didn't want to hear his reproaches.

What if you're recognized?

Is that paper your main job?

Don't get it wrong, we're trying something new.

This isn't one of your "woman's magazines", no make-up tips, no recipes.

You really think it's important work?

Absolutely essential.

You wouldn't have thought so before.

You used to be more consistent.

I haven't changed. It's your "consistency" I find wrong.

Let's talk about it. - I didn't come here to talk about your politics.

I did.

Werner committed suicide.

He had a penchant for death.

I've no time to cry...

...over the death of a neurotic intellectual.

Jan is at my place.

What should I do with him?

Didn't Werner settle all that? - He dumped Jan on me.

Should he have left him in a bank for you to find?

You've got to take care of him.

I did my share of mothering for you kids at home.

But things are different now.

I don't know anyone, and I can't take him with me!

So you've finally managed to cast me in the role you don't want any more!

I didn't tell Werner to dump Jan on you. - What was he supposed to do?

Not cop out! - You copped out first!

You still don't get it!

I'd hoped your coming here meant you'd changed.

I agree with some of your ideas. - Ideas aren't acts.

They do. They're just slower. - Old women can't make a revolution.

So you think there is a revolution just because you're young?

I'm looking or a foster home for Jan.

Make sure the people are suitable. Please!

I'll be lucky to find anyone!

I hoped having a kid would help Werner.

I was so sure I'd left Jan in good hands.

How can one end a life that's hardly begun?

Can you understand that? - Sometimes.

"When the Lord overthrew the captivity of Zion,

we were like them that dream.

Lord that you are mighty, thou hast done great deeds for us.

Thou hast freed us from a long, self-imposed servitude.

Give us light that we may see the error of our ways,

Give us strength, that we may repent."

Jan!

Remember Marianne?

"Mamma Annelie"? - No...

Not at all? - I'm just a little boy.

Though partly to blame for the catastrophe, the mothers suffered most.

Caption number 8.

Every year, on Hitler's mother's birthday,

prolific mothers were awarded the Cross of Honor.

After the third child, it was in bronze.

Engraved on the cross was a motto: "Giving birth ennobles".

Hitler wrote: "The male sacrifice to a nation's struggle

is tantamount to the female sacrifice to a nation's survival.

Every child she bears is a battle waged for her people's existence."

Sterility was regarded as subversive.

I had a dream about you! - No!

A nice one? Or that same old dream again?

The same one.

Whom did I betray you with this time? - With Marianne.

She's not my type.

When you met us, she attracted you.

Because she was plump and weak. - Am I weak?

In my view, you're stronger. - I don't know if that's still true.

"Dear Juliane,

in this camp in Beirut I gave away all the clothes I had with me.

At first, I kept my make-up,

but that seemed wrong, and I gave it away too.

No one forces you to do it, they wait until it occurs to you.

El Fath does a lot for the Arab women.

They go into the houses, talk to the men,

explain that women can be revolutionaries, too.

During one of these talks, I heard a man say:

'If my wife is with El Fath, why shouldn't I make the beds?'

I went into a shop to buy a note-pad.

The merchant saw my El Fath badge and wouldn't take my money.

'It's for the Revolution, ' he said.

He didn't want me to pay for my cigarettes,

but I told him they were for me personally, not for the Revolution.

So he let me pay for them."

Who is that? - What did you say?

Somebody's trying to break the door-bell.

Who the hell... - I don't know.

Go see. - I will not.

Go on! - Why should I?

Three o'clock!

Marianne! - My name is Chris.

What do you want?

Coffee.

Why so quiet?

I'm not here to lecture you.

You're crazy!

You'll wake up the whole building!

We need coffee.

How long have you been back?

You're taking a risk coming here.

How can you go on living like this?

Why don't you say something?

I've nothing to say.

I'm going to set the table.

I think we're intruding.

We're leaving.

Wait for me.

What are you doing?

Nothing I can use.

Go back to sleep.

Leave them.

Our prisons are in pretty places. - Yes.

Please wait, I won't be more than an hour. - O.K.

Whom do you wish to see? - My sister, Marianne Klein.

Put your I.D. and Visitor's Card on the turn-table.

Take your Visitor's Card and go with the officer.

Thank you.

This way.

Purse.

Coat.

Take it off.

Take it off.

Pants down.

Shoes off.

Sweater up. - Why?

Regulations. - What could I hide there?

Otherwise, I can't let you in.

Thank you.

You can take the money and the cigarettes.

Your key.

Wait here.

Juliane, Marianne! Come to dinner! - Come on, let's go down.

No, you. - You first.

No, you. - Together, then. One, two, three...

Who's faster? One, two, three...

Your sister won't see you.

But I have a permit! - This way.

Why won't she see me, did she tell you?

Your sister doesn't talk to us, nor we to her.

Come on, I'll take you back.

Something to eat?

I don't feel like it.

What made you so sure she wouldn't see me?

That life-style makes people numb.

Maybe she was afraid to see me.

Afraid? Marianne? - We don't know what she's been through.

Then write her. Tell her you're sorry she was arrested.

They get letters? - From relatives, yes.

But we were going to that lecture?

Hell give others.

Why don't you go alone?

My sister was arrested two weeks ago, you know that!

No need to watch my place anymore!

Juliane!

You believe in an after-life? - Do you?

Otherwise, neither life nor death would make sense.

And that bothers you a lot?

Yes... I'd rather die right away.

Herr Schaum told us today that they need volunteers in Africa.

Go join Dr. Schweitzer,

he plays the organ even better than Daddy.

I want to make myself useful.

Being useful is a kind of willing slavery.

Come, Lord Jesus, share our table

and bless that which thou hast given.

Enjoy your meal.

Juliane can't go! - But her gown is ready!

If she won't wear a dress to school she can't wear a gown to the dance.

The principal called me this morning.

You wore your black pants to school again! - They're black jeans!

Can't you see to it that she wears a skirt?

Mama has enough to do with the babies. And I like pants better.

For Commencement Day, you'll wear a dress if I have to put it on you myself!

Never!

Go on, hit me! If you can square that with your Sunday sermon.

Get out!

Eat in your room!

Please, Daddy, let Juliane come too.

Please.

I have to think it over.

Do come with us! Why won't you come?

I won't have you playing up to Daddy for my sake.

Help me with this. Don't be cross, I did it for you.

I don't need your help.

Daddy won't come... and Juliane? - I'm not going.

Rather spend the evening here with Daddy?

For this dance, students invite parents!

Please escort your parents to their seats! Now for a Vienna Waltz!

What did you bet? - A ticket to America.

Like to write about your sister?

And the piece on African women? - It can wait.

I don't want to write about her. - Why not?

Writing about ourselves raises our credibility.

It's only by talking about our own problems that we can get our readers

to think about themselves and their lives.

Take the response to Carol's account of her divorce...

I'm still buried in those letters!

My experience has nothing to do with other women's.

We have to show that when we write about Marianne, it's different.

It must be hard for her to take on all that bull-shit.

Don't let "them" gag you!

Anyway, a show-down with your sister would be good for you.

Don't you all agree? - Trying to spare me an analysis?

Come in.

Sit down, please.

On the other side.

In your letter, you forgot one thing.

Remember our under-shirts?

They only buttoned from behind.

Even when we hated each other,

we always buttoned each other's shirts.

That's true.

With long strings for the stockings

that were always too short; they scratched.

Mine were too long: hand-me-downs!

Won't you visit Karl too? - Louder!

Take him comics. - I'm not a relative.

Forget your disapprove. - I can't.

We've been at it for years.

Our achievements do matter, not just to me.

Oh, they were often small enough... Your bombs spoiled it all!

Think it was easy for us? - You hurt our work, not theirs!

You oversimplified things. Werner thought so too.

You wrote that you wanted to help me...

I see it was an empty phrase.

Today, I can't.

I want to leave.

"He who has no house now, will never build one

He who is alone now, will remain so for many years

He will watch by night, reading and writing long letters

He will pace the garden paths when leaves are falling."

Fine, Marianne. Sit down, please.

Now let us interpret the poem together.

Juliane, you begin. - It's in bad taste.

That's not an interpretation, but an opinion.

The poem is one of our greatest German poems!

I prefer "The Ballad of the Jewish Whore, Marie Sanders" or "The Fugue of Death".

You're trying to hide your lack of ideas about Rilke.

You begin, Renate.

What are you trying to hide? - Juliane!

"If the Nazis planned something, it would be for tonight..."

You're disrupting the class! Leave the room!

If you keep this up, you'll have to do the year over!

The camps spread. They are full.

Cities one hundred thousand strong. "Sold out"

Heavy industry turned to these bottomless reservoirs of labour.

Factories had their private camps, off-limits to the S.S.

Steyer, Krupp, Henkel, I.G. Farben, Siemens, Goering

all shopped in these markets.

The Nazis might win the war, these new cities were part of their economy.

But they were losing the war. No coal for the crematoria, no food to eat

Corpses littered the streets of the camps. Typhus...

When the Allies opened the gates...

all the gates...

...the prisoners stared uncomprehendingly.

Were they free? Was life going to take them back?

"I am not to blame," says the Kapo.

"I am not to blame," says the officer.

"I am not to blame."

Then who is to blame?

As I speak, cold water from the marshlands and the ruins

is filling the gaps in the lime-pits,

water as cold and dark as our poor memories.

War is dozing...

Grass, that old reliable, grows again on the appelplatz.

A deserted village, as ominous as even

The crematorium is out of service, the Nazis' tricks are out of date.

Nine million dead haunt this landscape.

Who is keeping watch?

Your eyes are red. - It's the neon.

You've lost at least 10 lbs. since last time.

I'll get my figure back in here.

Stop it, Marianne! Why are you doing this?

Why are you destroying yourself?

How long now? - 25 days.

And well keep it up...

...till they bring us all together.

One thing I don't get:

you claim to be an elite, but you want ordinary treatment.

Is that consistent? - What are you talking about?

Do you write for the Springer press now?

Do you know what goes on in here?

I see no one but you and my lawyer once a month.

Not another soul except for these stinking screws!

They don't let any mail in except for your letters and mother's.

There are no sounds! I live in utter isolation.

I pounded on the walls to get through to the cells next door.

Nothing. Both empty.

I never know what time it is.

They leave the lights on night and day, the pigs!

Can't sleep with that light, that silence.

I listen to my breath

as it comes in through the nostrils...

and goes out through the mouth.

A different sound every time.

It's not the way it was at home, when we were afraid at night.

In here, the silence softens the brain.

You lose all sense of time and, ultimately, of self.

That's what they want.

Then they put you in the loony-bin.

Don't worry, I'm O.K!

I talk to myself about whatever crosses my mind.

Whatever crosses my mind...

I pace back and forth

and I say aloud whatever crosses my mind.

And you know what?

It's those damned Bible verses of ours

that always pop up first!

I've forgotten that Celan poem of ours! - All of it?

Time's up!

Bring me my cello. - Time's up!

You have a nice sweater. Give it to me.

"Speak to our friends, the writers, the liberals, the famous people!

Get them to do something for us, damn it!"

She doesn't ask, she gives orders.

Juliane, Marianne, get up!

Wake up!

Air-raid! Wake up!

Do you want me to take it out?

I told you it was crazy.

I want to know how she feels.

How long can she hold out with that forced feeding?

With proper medical support there's no limit.

If she resists, the tube goes into her nose, so that she can't bite it.

I mean mentally, psychologically.

In short, how long can a human being take that?

The subject hasn't been studied much.

At times, I feel I'm falling.

She used to be very sensitive to pain, almost a hypochondriac.

That meant she had a keen imagination.

Do you think she's lost it?

You asked for more time off!

I sympathize, but we just can't afford it.

I'll work nights to make it up.

Thank you.

I'm hungry.

It's terrible the way the papers are talking about your sister.

You owe it to yourself to present a different picture.

Not uncritical. But at the trial, shell need all the sympathy she can get.

She despises my work, she despises the magazine.

If I write about her, shell see it as a hostile action.

You've got to help, even against her wishes.

She thinks I can only help by carrying on with her work.

She calls it "the struggle".

That's crazy. - I know.

She actually demands that of you?

Helga, could you please come?

How did this picture escape the fire?

When I was a little girl, we didn't have such bloodthirsty pictures.

There was one with angels.

One of them was playing the flute.

When I was little, I often stood before it, thinking:

"If I could play the flute as well as that angel,

I'd just float up to Heaven on my own, without effort or prayers."

Now that Lise has left home, I have time to play the flute.

Do you still play the piano?

You ought to, music helps with the anxiety.

Of course, Daddy was relieved too, when nothing happened to Marianne,

above all when she didn't start shooting.

But he won't admit it.

Sometimes I think:

"If she were dead, he could love her again."

You know what I call him now?

The Egotist.

Whenever I think of him, I call him the Egotist.

You took a long time figuring that one out.

Come with me, but don't tell Father.

How can I? - Tell him you're driving me.

I've never lied to him before.

Is this to be her life?

Give me one, too.

I always used to cry at times like these or else I'd pray.

Do you think it's normal that I'm not doing either now?

I've so many questions to ask both of you.

Maybe I should write them down.

I'm used to trusting people unquestioningly.

Do we always have to quarrel over Marianne?

No.

Or would you rather I was on her side, like in your dreams?

My parents' advice is to leave you.

You should take it!

I want us to get married.

But we've been together such a long time!

I'd just like to show them all.

You'd only have more problems.

Let's take a vacation.

I've had my paid holidays, and the trial's coming up.

I'll manage all right, as long as I've any life left.

Tell the old lady. I don't want her coming back here.

I get my fill of melodramatics in here.

I find her very changed. - Please!

Please keep her away!

As for the old man, I didn't answer his oily letter!

You sat on his knee 15 years ago.

Did you see Jan?

They're wiping you out of his mind. I can't even see him.

Fight it! - How?

Perhaps it's better for him.

He has a different name now: Thomas Breuer.

Jan has everything he needs.

Third World kids die every day and nobody cares!

You could have gone to one of those places on an assistance program, with Jan!

It would have been hard, unspectacular, a daily grind.

Jule...

you used to be strong, demanding, uncompromising.

Can't you see you're kidding yourself?

Look at you! Coming apart at the seams!

The daily grind you're too proud of has you spouting bull-shit.

What good does it do? - What good are you in here?

This is just one more step.

Give me that handkerchief!

The handkerchief! Or shell have to leave.

It's mine, give it back to me.

What did you want at 3 a.m.? - To give you one last chance.

Who'd take care of you now?

You don't have to. - But I want to.

They'll never bury us alive in here, they have no hold over our souls.

Just wait ten or twenty years.

Then we'll see who was right!

What do you mean "naive"?

What? - What do you mean "naive"?

Not naive... You just let others exploit you.

You'd help your brother if you had one.

Not if he'd treated me the way she treats you.

You'd mortgage ten year's vacation to make life easier for those in jail.

Well, life here gets harder every day! - You'll never understand.

"I need ..."

She doesn't say "please" or "I'd like", she says: "I need some wool socks."

It's cold in her cell... Her feet get cold.

"Four pairs of panties, smooth, short, natural fiber...

A pair of brown light-weight cotton pants ..."

So now she's not cold! - Cut it out, I know that letter by heart.

"A comb, brown eye-shadow...

...a brown eyebrow pencil, Docteur Payot,

nail scissors, tweezers and a white compact."

Why does she feel this need for make-up? You don't wear any.

Let her put a little color in her life!

Have you any idea how much all this has cost?

Plus the time you spend in the train, at the prison, or raising money?

So far, I've paid it all out of my pocket.

I'm worried about you. Or hadn't you noticed?

You're wrecking your life or her.

That's not it, you're worried about your own security, your peace and comfort.

I'll watch this elsewhere.

But I wouldn't mind if you looked after Jan a bit more.

I'll never agree that nothing can be done about that.

Juliane, what are you doing here at this hour?

Read this.

I think it's very good.

You made money on my back.

You wrote about me like a bourgeois reporter.

With a lot more understanding.

You've no right to talk about our private life.

My life starts with other people.

What about our under-shirts? Why did you remind me of them?

That was for you. It's reality that matters, not words.

Our childhood wasn't a reality?

Besides, I don't think it's possible to shed one's past.

I proved it. - Proved what?

Born 30 years earlier, you'd have been a Hitler fan!

I didn't put that in the article... for you.

"Dear Juliane, it's still the same deadly game.

Naturally, I'll never tire of telling you

how I understand that you, as a human being, are a product of your society.

And I understand why. But that's only half of the story.

One can know that, and still live another 10 or 30 years

on the wrong side of the fence.

For proof for this, read, if you haven't already,

George Jackson's prison letters, 'Soledad Brothers'.

Please come and see me, don't be mad, you know how it was meant."

Federal Penitentiary!

Marianne had been transferred to a modern prison.

No bars... but one-way glass!

Of course, I went back to see her, and wrote to her. I talked to her lawyers.

Naturally, I went on complying with her requests.

My first words at each visit were always: "Do you need anything I can get you?"

Your hands are cold.

You have to push the button to talk.

Only when you talk. - Push the button.

Yes, I've got it now.

But I can't talk to you through this damned thing!

You must!

It's the only way for now. Be strong!

Next time, wear brighter colours.

I had a dream about you.

I dreamt I set you free.

I spent months getting ready for it. I came for you... You wouldn't leave!

If all you do is dream about it...

Your face is fading away, I can hardly see you.

When are you coming back? - In 2 or 3 weeks, I think.

When exactly? - I'll write and tell you.

I have too many lines. - Yes, too much confusion.

My hand is more orderly. - You know what you want.

Oh, I forgot.

No!

You could just as well write your article here.

About what? I don't understand the language!

But you've got eyes!

Occhi!

Occhi...

Let's drink another one!

Are you finished with it?

Look! It's Marianne!

Did you catch that? - No...

But...

She's dead.

Hanged herself.

Daddy doesn't believe it was suicide.

Lord, I speak to thee because in me is darkness, but in thee is the light.

I am alone, but thou art by me. I am weak, but thou art my stay.

I am sick at heart, but in thee is peace. I am bitter, but thou are patience.

I know not the ways, but thou knowest mine.

You'll feel drowsy...

Don't worry, it'll do you good.

There'll never be another face like that!

How long will it take to make another face like that?

Wolf...

I have to go on... for her.

Do you remember our under-shirts?

Daddy said: "She won't kill herself!

I might, but she won't!

Not her!

I might, but she won't!"

I'm going round in circles. I need your help.

You were her lawyer, please be mine now.

They won't let me see the official reports.

But I can employ you to look at them, can't I? - Yes.

Will you do it? - Yes.

I can't pay you much now, but I'll do what I can, I promise!

There's no hurry for that.

The death certificate, her belongings. Can you get those?

I'll need your proxy.

Somewhere in all that there must be explanations, clues...

You were there the morning she died,

did you notice anything that might refute the official version?

You can't just sit down and learn medicine!

Just let me come here and read, it helps.

Look at this.

They didn't even examine her nails!

If there was a struggle first, it could be proven that way!

You're driving me crazy!

How long is this going to last?

You know how long! - No, I don't!

Until I've got proof.

And when will that be?

And when will that be? - Soon!

I've heard that before!

Nobody will believe you. Even if you lay all the proof on their desk.

That's just what I'm going to do!

And what about us? - We have a lifetime ahead of us.

A lifetime with a corpse between us!

I'm sick of all this grave-robbing! You can't bring her back!

Look, I don't want to bug you. - Then don't!

I can't go on like this.

I just can't!

True, I haven't the strong family ties that you have,

and even if I did, I couldn't understand.

You're destroying yourself and want me to watch.

I'm not helping you, I'm sinking too!

If only, somehow...

just being there...

But you don't even notice.

You haven't even noticed me pacing around this room for the past 15 minutes!

Why is that?

Or...

Will I have to do an autopsy on you to figure it out?

Should we split up for a while?

Until I've got all my proof?

Listen, are you willing to take the risk of wiping out ten years of our lives?

You're a monster! I'll never understand you!

I never will!

Never... No, never!

I understand. You went through a lot of trouble, but you forgot one thing:

That business was years ago! Murder or suicide, nobody cares any more.

It's like last year's snow!

Your sister, the whole movement... strictly Seventies!

Today it's the Third World that's news, Islam, the Energy Crisis,

Survival in a Post-Industrial Age!

My sister was trying go draw attention to the Third World.

Maybe so, but you're in this business, you know the rule:

News the right item at the right time!

All the rest goes into the ashcan of history or into books.

I am Sister Gerda. Please, come with me.

Ms ...? - Klein.

Close relative? - Yes.

And you? - I'm a physician.

Oh, I thought you were a relative too.

He doesn't talk to us. Because of the pain, perhaps.

There he is, don't be alarmed.

I am Juliane.

I know you.

Do you remember me?

It's been a long time.

The doctor says with three more transplants, he'll pull through.

The skin is young, there'll be no scars.

The boy built it all himself.

He often spent the whole day there. A very imaginative child.

Such intelligent questions!

Who did it? - No one knows...

Someone who found out that his real mother was your sister.

Do you know how it happened?

The person must have known about the cave. Thomas was no doubt asleep.

He crept up to the cave-mouth, poured petrol inside and set fire to it.

We can't get a word out of the child.

All we know is he ran screaming to the house.

Hello!

Let me help you with your coat.

Do you like the room?

We can buy more posters if you like.

There's a shop down the street.

You'd like that?

Are you hungry?

Or maybe you'd like to take a nap first?

Then I'll show you how everything works here.

Yes.

Want me to cover you up?

No, I can do it myself.

I'm thirsty.

Thank you.

Can you go back to sleep, or shall I stay with you?

Why did she throw bombs?

Who says so? - Everybody.

Don't!

I'm sorry. - That's O.K.

Go away.

Go away!

Call me if you want me.

You shouldn't have done that, your mother was a fine woman.

Don't you believe me?

I'll tell you about her.

Everything?

I'll tell you all I know, but it's not everything.

I want everything.

Begin now.

Begin now!

MARIANNE AND JULIANE