All language subtitles for Return.From.The.Ashes.1965.720p.BluRay.x264.AAC-[YTS.MX]

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Robert,
will you please stop?

If I give you
another bar of chocolate,

will you stop then?

Perhaps.

Careful!
Be careful!

Robert! Robert!

Robert!

Come with me.

Please come with me.

There is an empty compartment
in the next car.

Robert. Robert.

Please come with me.

Please, madame,
you just come with me now.

Please.

Would you move?

You can see
the lady's in distress.

Thank you. Thank you.

Please. Thank you.

Really.

Such lack of feeling?

Incredible.

Absolutely incre...

Thank you, madame.

- Good evening.
- Good evening.

I, uh... I wrote to you
last week.

Madame, uh, Rovaire.

Julia Rovaire.

Ah, a small room
at the back.

Yes, thank you.

There is some confusion.

Your papers identify you

as Madame Michele
Wolf Pilgrin.

There need be no confusion.

I am Madame Pilgrin.

But, uh, for the moment,
I would prefer

to be known as,
uh, Madame, uh, Rovaire.

Ah, of course.

Thank you, madame.

Hello?

Operator,
get me letter 2042, please.

Certainly, madame.

Hello?

Hello?

Hello?

Who is it, Stan?

I don't know.
Nobody answers.

Hello?

Oh, for goodness sake,
hang up!

There's somebody
on the other end.

Good evening, Paul.

Ah, a long time, Dr. Wolf.

Where is everybody tonight?

With Daladier and Chamberlain
in Munich.

Everyone is glued
to the wireless.

Who is that
attractive young man?

He's a professional.

Do you think
I could play with him?

Sure.

- Good evening.
- Good evening.

Would you be interested
in two or three quick games?

I play for money, madame.

Yes.

30 francs a game?

Oh, I feel it only fair to tell
you I'm quite a good player.

All right, 20 francs.

Good.

A lightning game?

If you like.

Five-second limits on moves?

10 seconds.

All right, 10 seconds.

Left.

White.
You have the advantage.

Are you about to suggest
that we revert to 30 francs?

Yes.

All right, 30 francs it is.

Oh, excuse me.

That's all right.

Oh! My God, I...

Three games, 90 francs.

Ah, I'm sorry, two 50s
are the smallest I have.

Do you have 10 francs?

No, madame, not even one.

How lucky
I dropped in tonight.

Shall we ask Paul
for change?

No, then he would know
we were playing for money,

and that would embarrass him.

He would be embarrassed.
I would not.

We could get change
at the cafe down the street.

Would you like some coffee?

I'll invite you.

- Good evening, Paul.
- Good night, Dr. Wolf.

Night.

Monsieur Daladier
and Mr. Chamberlain,

the French
and British Premiers,

arrived at Munich
at the scheduled hour

and were met at the airport
by Herr Von Ribbentrop.

I will ask you
the inevitable question.

Do you think
there will be war?

If there is...
Germany will lose.

What makes you so sure?

Can you name
one really outstanding

German chess player?

How long have you been
in Paris?

Long enough to be hungry.

Stanislaus.

Stanislaus Pilgrin.

Hmm, you're not French,
are you?

I'm Polish.

What is your Christian name?

Michele.

What sort of doctor are you?

Medicine... X-ray.

Do you earn a lot of money?

I suppose so.
Does that impress you?

It doesn't impress me.

It fills me with envy.

Do you care
so much about money?

I care only about chess.

I've promised myself
before I'm 30,

I will be named
International Master.

Before 35, Grand Master.

Worrying where my next month's
rent is coming from,

my next meal, my next pair of shoes,
spoils my game.

I want my own apartment,

a house in the country,
a convertible.

I want to play
chess at ease,

my mind on nothing else.

Please, don't make me
feel guilty.

I have an apartment,
a house in the country, and a car.

I'm sorry to say
it's not convertible.

- What is?
- The car.

I'll drive you home
If you like.

I accept.

It's chilly,
and I have no topcoat.

Will you come up
for a drink?

Such a simple question
deserves a simple answer, yes.

Lights, lights, lights.

Oh!

I told you
women should never drive.

Thank you.

I'll have a light
in a minute.

The tenant before me
had the current turned off.

I haven't bothered
to have it turned on.

Very wise of you.

This room was made
for candlelight.

My one and only chair.

Oh, thank you.

Shall we take turns?

Don't bother.
There are no cigarettes.

It doesn't matter.
I have some.

And that book
is my complete library.

Aren't you a little late getting
to The Brothers Karamazov?

I read it for the first time
when I was 15.

I've never really
stopped reading it.

Tonight, for instance,
just before I left for the club.

Mmm?

Do you remember that scene

between old man Karamazov
and his sons?

Well, there are hundreds
of scenes in the book.

I have forgotten them all.

The old lecher
is speaking to Alyosha.

Alyosha?

Wasn't he sort of
the saintly one?

Yes, and... And to Ivan.

Intellectual, the cynic.

"Speak all the same.

"Is there a God or not?

"'No, there is no God"

"Ivan, is there
immortality of some sort,

just a little,
just a tiny bit?'

"There is
no immortality either."

"None at all?'

"None at all."

"There's absolute
nothingness then?

"Good Lord, to think
what faith man has lavished

"for nothing on that dream

and for how many
thousand years."

"Who is it laughing at man?
Ivan?

"It must be the devil, '

"Ivan said, smiling.

"And the devil,
does he exist?'

"No, there is no devil,
either."

Wasn't it Ivan
who said, uh...

Well, something, like, um,
if there is no God,

no immorality, no heaven,
no hell, no reward,

no punishment, then
everything is permissible?

Yes.

Something very much
like that.

Larceny, lechery, murder.

Even the fleecing

of unsuspecting women
at chess clubs.

What was
your first name again?

Michele.

I'll call you "Mischa."

Are you married?

Widow for a good many years.

Sorry.

Any children?

A stepdaughter.
She's 11 now.

I never... I never felt
like a wife.

I'm sorry to say
I never felt like a mother.

My parents took care
of Fabienne until they died.

Since then, she's been going

from one English
boarding school to another.

Oh, I see her now and then
in transit.

You offered me a drink,
didn't you?

Yes, and you shall have it.

Come.

With the compliments
of the house.

Oh, thank you.

Mmm.

Well, it's lukewarm
and it smells of disinfectant.

Otherwise, it's delicious.

That's good.

Oh!

Why do you shut up
your cat like that?

So as not to risk losing him.

It's the fattest one
I ever caught.

Do you really love cats?

It's not a question
of loving them.

I think the time has come
when it will be difficult

for me to live without him.

What?

I'm afraid it's true.

Specialty of the house.

Fortunately, your 90 francs
grants him a reprieve.

Imagine, Charles,
you have made a correct diagnosis.

You may tell your patient an
operation won't be necessary.

I'm almost afraid to.

She was so much
looking forward to it.

There's a telephone call
for you, Dr. Wolf.

- San Remo.
- Thank you.

Transfer it to this phone,
and then you may leave.

- Thank you, good night.
- Good night.

- It's Stan.
- It can't be.

He would want you
to pay for the call.

Oh, he's practically
self-supporting now.

The Chess Federation
is paying his expenses.

You forget
that he's highly thought of

in the world of chess.

In the world of chess
and in the boudoir.

In every other human habitat,
he's a louse, and you know it.

Hello? Hello?

- Oh, hello, darling.
- How are you?

I'm fine, thank you.

What?

Oh, oh, how marvelous.

Wait, hold on.
I want to tell Charles.

Stan drew with Fedorovich.

- Thrilling.
- Charles is thrilled.

Yes.

Oh, yes, I'm very happy
for you, darling.

When are you coming back?

- Tuesday.
- Tuesday? What time?

Yes, yes,
I will meet you.

And, darling, I want you...
Oh, oh, you have to.

Oh, good-bye, darling.

Yes, oh...

Stan doesn't want to go on
about his triumphs.

Well, not at 50 francs
a minute.

Well, it's International
Master Stanislaus Pilgrin now.

You know, it was less than
a year ago Stan said to me,

"When I'm 30, I will be named
International Master."

This, uh,
this international business,

will it mean more money
for him?

Oh, it will never be
enough money for Stan.

Then I'm afraid
he'll never leave you.

You won't have to worry.

Shall I tell you
something, Charles?

Hmm?

I think Stan
has come to love me.

My poor Michele, no.

Will you come
and have dinner with me?

My poor Charles, yes.

- Oh, good.
- Oh.

And won't it be a novelty for
you not picking up the check.

Stan?

Yes?

Look.

I had a brooch made out
of the cat you gave me.

Oh, lovely.

Would you like to know
what I'm thinking?

Not really.

I'm going
to tell you anyway.

I'm thinking about
your lovemaking.

Oh?

Are you working up
to a complaint?

Far from it.

It's just that, uh,
you used to give to it

all the ceremony,
all the concentration you gave to chess.

In fact, I had
the feeling sometimes

that you planned several moves
in advance, huh?

- And now?
- Now I detect a little less routine,

a little less savoir faire.

I hate the word "detect."

You make it sound as if
our whole relationship

has been under one
of your X-ray machines.

Incidentally, I saw
the new Renault yesterday.

- Mmm-hmm?
- Looked good.

How expensive is it?

I can't afford it. You can.

Oh, thank you.

I already have a car.

- I haven't.
- Well, that's sad.

But then, Paris has more
taxis than any city in the world.

I didn't ask you
to buy it for me.

Don't you think
I find it humiliating

the way you dole out
your money to me?

Well, my patients
dole it out to me,

so I dole it out to you.

I enjoy it.
So should you.

Hello?

Oh, hello, Charles.

No, we haven't been
listening to the radio.

I'm afraid
we had a very late night.

What?

Oh. Oh, that's horrible.

Yes, I understand.
Of course.

Good-bye.

Well, it's happened.

Hitler has invaded Poland.

England and France
have declared war.

I said
there wouldn't be a war,

so of course
it was inevitable.

Oh, damn.

Do you know what
this war means?

Of course I know
what this war means.

No, you don't.

It means the end
of the European tournament.

No honor, no fame,
no money.

I will be dependent upon you
even for my food.

- Mmm-hmm.
- Will you support me, darling?

Oh, would it ease your
conscience if we were married?

No, thank you,
I'm not a dog.

I can only wag my tail
when I'm free.

Thank you.

Though some things
are beautifully put,

There's really just no answer.

Where are you going?

To the club.

Thank heaven.

I thought perhaps
you were marching off to war.

Not without you, darling.

They're getting closer.

Who is it this time?

The Friedheims.

Well, they stayed a little bit too long,
didn't they?

And you, you idiot,
you stayed too.

I know, I know.

I have been thinking about it,

but each time
I make up my mind,

in comes a new patient,
and I get so absorbed.

I'm afraid
I've got bad news too.

A meeting was called

by the Nazi Commission
of Jewish Affairs.

You are denied all
facilities of the hospital.

I'm going to resign,
of course.

Fortunately, I belong
to nothing I can resign from.

This is only the first step.

I'm worried about Stan
living with a Jewish woman.

Oh, please,
don't start that again.

I'm not leaving you,

I won't leave you,

I will never leave you,

and what is more, I...

I want you to marry me.

Marry you?

Do I have to put it
in writing?

No, no,
that won't be necessary.

I have a witness.

I'd be happier
if you asked me to marry you

because you love me,

not because you hated
the Nazis.

We have been together
so long now.

Why haven't
you asked me before?

Because then I would have
been conforming.

Now I'm defying.

What a horrible, cold day
for a wedding.

- Well, how do you feel?
- So far, the same.

I have a new name, but...

Madame Wolf?

I'm afraid there's a mistake.

This is my wife,
Madame Pilgrin.

You will come with us.

Stan, no! Stan!

Dr. Bovard?

Yes?

Yes, madame?

You don't recognize me?

Should 1?

Yes,
we are very old friends.

I'm terribly sorry,
but, uh...

Charles, I'm Michele.

Oh, my God.

Oh, my God, Michele.

I can't believe it.

- I thought...
- I was dead.

Everybody thought so.

No, Charles, I'm alive.

Technically, that is.

It doesn't seem possible.

The last camps
were liberated ages ago.

Where have you been?

I have been...
How should I say it?

Resting in an observation
sanatorium

in the Black Forest.

When did you get back?

This evening.

Come,
let me take you inside.

No, no, no.

I don't want anyone
to see me.

Anyone at all.

All right.

Why didn't Stan tell me
you were at the sanatorium?

Because he didn't know.

Well, didn't you
get in touch with him?

He doesn't even know
I'm back in Paris yet.

I don't understand.

Charles...

Am I the person you knew?

You will be.

Not till I am completely
will 1 show myself to Stan.

You know Stan.

Was he in love with me
when he married me?

No.

And if he saw me now?

I see you now.

I feel no differently.

I'm asking about Stan.

Your eyes are as lovely
as they always were.

I remember Stan
telling me one night,

"A man should always marry
a woman with beautiful eyes.

"That way, there is always
something to love,

"whatever happens."

Tell me about Fabi.

Last time I saw her
she was all arms and legs,

braces on her teeth,
and worst of all, no bosom.

All deficiencies
have been corrected.

Is she in love?

Tell me.

You know, this is the most
interest you've ever shown in Fabi.

I know.

The concentration camp
at Dachau

did one thing for me.

It made me a Jew
and a mother.

...I had almost forgotten
I was Jewish.

Then I was reminded
of the fact very harshly.

I saw too many mothers
and daughters

being torn from each other.

There is something
about my life in the camp.

I swore
I'd never tell a soul.

So...

I'll begin by telling you.

There was a building
in the camp...

The house of pleasure.

They locked you up there?

No.

I volunteered.

I mean,
the women inside there

had almost enough to eat,

and I wanted to
see Stan again.

If I hadn't
loved him so much,

I would have had
less nerve,

and I would have died
of starvation.

I'm afraid I'm going
to do something

in the middle of Paris

I didn't do
all those years in the camp.

I must say, Michele, you are
beginning to look like yourself again.

Rovaire.

Madame Julia Rovaire.

What else did you wriggle out
of the concierge?

Well, he didn't seem
to know very much.

She pays her rent regularly.

Oh, and up
until a week ago,

she had all her meals
in her room.

No, Fabi, it wouldn't work.

It just wouldn't work.

Stan, if you saw her.

You know they say
that somewhere in the world,

there are two people
who are almost identical?

I tell you,
the likeness is uncanny.

I don't care
how much she looked

like your stepmother did,
it wouldn't work.

Nobody would believe it.
It's too fantastic.

It will work
only because it is fantastic.

Do you think for one minute
that somebody like Charles...

- Stan!
- Please let me finish.

Do you think
somebody like Charles,

who was so close to her,

would believe
for one minute...

Look, Stan, will you just
go and see her?

That's all I ask you,

just go and
have a look at her.

All right...

If that makes you
any happier.

I couldn't have thought
of a scheme like that.

Must be wonderful
to be so young...

And so evil.

You have no idea how evil.

Only one, sir?

Yes.

The likeness is remarkable.

I laughed at Fabi,
but she's right.

Stan doesn't know me.

He doesn't know
who [ am.

If her hair was blonde

and I didn't know
Michele was dead,

I would swear.

Can I help you?

Operator, please,

get me Dr. Bovard
at Hospital Valley.

Oh, never mind.
Thank you.

Please, I don't
want to be disturbed.

Madame Rovaire,
may I come in?

Please, I must see you,
just for a moment.

Forgive me.

My name is
Stanislaus Pilgrin.

I saw you
in the dining room.

The concierge
gave me your name.

I don't know
if I can explain it.

The shock, I...

I thought
for one moment I...

I was looking at my wife.

My wife was deported
in 1940.

She never returned.
She's dead.

Yet when I saw you
sitting there,

I thought it's crazy...

But I felt
I must see you again.

I'm sorry about your wife.

You, uh...

Loved her very much?

There are so many ways
of loving.

I was fond of her.

We were married
a very short time,

and I owed her a great deal.

Your wife you say... died?

Yes, she was a doctor,
you know?

She was Jewish.

Oh, you married a Jew
during the Nazi occupation?

I hadn't been in the army.

I was not a member
of the resistance.

I suppose that was my one
exhibition of gallantry.

Well, you have been
very kind.

I'm glad I gave in
to my sudden impulse.

Thank you for your patience.

I imposed upon you
long enough.

Good night, Madame Rovaire.

Good night, Monsieur...

Pilgrin.

Stanislaus Pilgrin.

You've got no guts.

A chance like this
will never come again.

Now you've seen her
close too,

you know as well as I do
it will work,

and you said yourself

her voice could
pass for Michele's.

Yes, but what guarantee
do we have

that she won't hear me out

and then promptly
call the police?

Look, she may call you
a few harsh names,

but she won't
call the police.

All right, assume that I've charmed her,
moved her to tears even.

Still, why should
she risk her neck?

The money.

Suppose she doesn't
need any money.

All right, so she has
a little more money.

She wants more.
Who doesn't?

Will you please get
on the telephone now?

All right.

If they haven't already
cut if off.

Three days wasted.

She may have moved by now,
and then where are we?

Look, if she's left the hotel,
we'll never find her again.

Hotel Du La Roy.

Uh, Madame Rovaire, please.

Certainly, sir.

Hello?

Hello?

Is that Madame Rovaire?

Yes, it is.

This is Monsieur Pilgrin.

Do you remember me?

Yes, yes.

Madame Rovaire,

uh, since our little talk
the other day,

I have been thinking...

Thinking...

Could we have
a quiet drink some place?

Are we going to discuss
your wife

and how much I look like her?

No.

I want to talk to you
about her daughter.

I don't think you mentioned
a daughter.

Yes, my stepdaughter.

Very beautiful...

And very unfortunate.

That's what I want
to talk to you about.

It's quite serious.

I mean, the situation

Mademoiselle Wolf
finds herself in.

I don't understand.

Does it concern me
in some way?

Uh, yes, I think you could be
of tremendous help

to Mademoiselle Wolf.

In what way?

That, uh...

I would prefer not to discuss
over the telephone.

So, a quiet drink some place?

Where do you suggest?

My room at the hotel?

That would be ideal

if that wouldn't
inconvenience you.

I can be there in, um...

50 minutes?

Shall we set our watches?

Thank you very much,
Madame Rovaire.

I'll be right there.

Thank you.

Don't drink that.

What I'm about to
propose to you

is bizarre, grotesque,

but I'm sure
you will understand it.

Because of your likeness
to my wife,

there's a great injustice
you can help correct

and incidentally
benefit yourself.

My wife died rich,

although she never knew that.

Her whole family,
all her relatives,

who were exterminated...

I know it's horrible.

Everything they owned...

And collectively
it's enormous.

...went to Michele.

But unfortunately,
we were married

under the regime
of separate maintenance,

so all the property goes to
her stepdaughter Fabienne,

or rather
it should go to Fabienne.

There's trouble
about the money.

Isn't there always?

Yes.

A barbaric, archaic law
in France about property

goes back to Napoleon,

says that a person whose
remains are not identified

is not considered dead
but absent.

If the remains
were not identified,

can you be absolutely sure?

We are sure.

Can you see any reason for her
not returning except death?

She is dead.

But still there's this law,
this technicality.

Imagine a fabulous sum
blocked for 30 years.

Goon.

A large capital
within arm's reach

without being able
to touch it.

It's madness,
don't you agree?

And what's more, we have to
keep up a house, her house.

It's very expensive.

We cannot afford it,
and we cannot sell it.

Please, Madame Rovaire,
you must help us.

If you would agree to pass
for my wife for a short while,

a comparatively short while...

Believe me, your resemblance
is really startling.

As startling as your proposal?

You know,
there are 300 million francs involved.

Well, that sum
takes my breath away,

but, uh, there are others
who will have to be convinced.

What about all the papers
that will have to be signed?

Well, you will have to learn to
copy her handwriting, of course.

Forgery?

Which is worse?

Forgery or depriving
rightful heirs of a fortune

because of a stupid
technicality?

Well, that's not
a fair question.

You may get
300 million francs.

1?730 years in prison.

Come on, not 30 years.

Believe me,
it will never come to that.

But there are so many things
about Madame Pilgrin

I would have to know,
aren't there?

That will be up to me.

Was I intelligent?

Very.

Thank you.

Sensual?

I found you so.

Oh, another thing to remember.

She, in a sense, bought me,
and everybody knew it.

I'm afraid, Mr. Pilgrin,
I'm not the woman for you.

I'm not too intelligent.
I'm only moderately sensual.

I know nothing of medicine.

Oh, really, Madame Rovaire,

the whole thing
will be over quickly.

Once your identity's
established,

you can discreetly
disappear or...

Or even better...

Suicide.

Why leave loose ends?

Oh, please, Madame Rovaire,
this is not the time for joking.

Mademoiselle Wolf and I
are prepared to offer you...

Half?

Well, not quite.

At... At least,
there are three of us.

- A third?
- Uh, no.

We were thinking
more along the line of 10%.

Well, one can always readjust
one's thinking, can't one?

All right, 30%.

Now, what do you say?

Yes. I said yes.

Are you mad?

Why didn't you say to him
straight off,

"You damn fool,
I'm Michele"?

Because I was revolted,
curious, shocked, even thrilled,

all at the same time.

What was he up to?

How far was he going?

And you want to go through
with this now? But why?

Because I am revolted,
curious, shocked, even thrilled.

Oh, be serious, please.

And he said things to me,
things I can never forgive.

And then

he was charming enough
to inform me

that everyone knew

I had bought him.

Well, you did, didn't you?

Charles, I came to you
for advice, not the truth.

Listen, how long do you think

you can keep him from knowing?

Long enough to
shake him up a little.

I keep telling you you have to
be careful about the T's.

Michele never quite
crossed her T's.

A quick, hurried stroke
that just missed. See?

Yes. Yes, I see.

Try copying the next sentence.

I don't want anyone
to see us together yet.

Stan?

What are you doing here?

I should've telephoned first,

but I didn't think of it.

I don't think
of a lot of things.

Madame Rovaire,
I'm Fabienne Wolf.

Oh!

What have I done to deserve
such a beautiful daughter?

Ugh, I hate my looks.

Or anything
very much about me.

Oh, well,
I know that feeling.

Nevertheless,
you are beautiful.

I forgot my cigarettes.

Oh.

Please.

Thank you.

I like to light my own.

Oh.
I make you uncomfortable?

It's an uncomfortable
situation.

I'm sorry.
I am uncomfortable, too.

You'll have to do
better than that.

My mother, they tell me,
had poise,

unshakeable poise
at all times.

But tell me,
isn't it important

for me to know
the relationship

between Michele
and her stepdaughter?

You and Michele
were not on good terms?

Not on good terms,
not on bad terms.

Not on any terms at all,
really.

Did you hate her?

No.

You have to know people
to hate them,

and Michele never paid
enough attention to me

for me to hate her.

She gave me less than nothing.

How long are you and Madame
Rovaire going to work today?

I don't know.

We're going to have
a chess session.

Will you be home for dinner?

I don't know. Will you?

I don't know.

Vagueness runs in the family.

I'm going to go to the cinema.

There's a marvelous Western on
at the Normandy.

It's one of those where hardly
anyone's alive at the end.

I love those.

Good-bye.

Good-bye, Mother.

Good-bye, Fabi.

Not the best-adjusted
young girl

you have met, is she?

I think Michele has much
to reproach herself for.

Still, she's quite brilliant.

This impersonation was
her idea, you know?

Oh, I have forgotten.

Yesterday she said
you must have numbers

tattooed on the forearm,
you know?

Everyone who came back
had them.

Oh, it's quite all right.

I thought of it
before she did.

The way she was looking at me,

I swear to you, for one
chilling, terrifying moment,

I really believed
it was Michele.

Be sensible.

A woman at the top
of her profession,

a beautiful woman,
handsome husband,

she survives
a concentration camp,

does she rush back to her
husband, her work, her home?

No, she hides out
in some shabby hotel

off a side street in Paris.

Is this Michele?

I know it's absurd.

Seeing those numbers
shook you.

It would've shaken me,
too.

Still, this woman is getting
100 million francs

if things work out.

And we've drummed into her

that not one tiny aspect
must be overlooked.

She's an intelligent woman.

Why shouldn't she do
a little thinking herself?

All right, all right.

Stop looking at me as if...
If I was an idiot.

Well, I'll try.
It won't be easy.

Look, Fabi,

why don't we forget
this whole matter

for just a few hours
and have some dinner.

I discovered a nice little
Chinese restaurant

near Place Pigalle.

Oh, that's a marvelous idea.

You answer the bell.
I'll book a table.

- All right.
- Oh, what's it called?

Uh, I forgot.
You have to look it up.

It's called, uh,
Wong something.

Wong, uh...

Wong Foo, I think.

Stan? What is it?

Do you recognize
the handwriting?

Let me read it to you.

"My darling,

"you will forgive
this long silence,

"which must have
alarmed you so

"when you learn the reasons

"that have required it.

"1 was so ugly, so exhausted
when I was released from camp.

"I couldn't bring myself
to come back to you,

"nor to ask you
to come back to me.

"But now it's time
to be sensible.

"If you will meet me
at the Gare de l'Est,

"you will find getting off
the 8:48 train

"a woman a little less
attractive than I used to be

"but much more elegant.

"1 love you with all my body,
all my heart, all my soul.

"Michele.

"Kiss Fabi for me."

I did not write this letter.

I could never perfect
my imitation to this extent.

Look at the handwriting.

And the postmark... Germany.

Germany!
That would have been easy!

You could have had it
mailed from Germany.

I could have, but I did not.

Really, Mr. Pilgrin,
I should be the one who's upset.

Your wife is coming back,

your wife who loves you

and who is 300 million francs
richer than when she left.

What happens to my 30%?

And what about
this chess problem?

I never taught you that one.

How did you know about this?

I didn't.

Call it, uh, coincidence,
shall we?

Would you be interested
in two, three quick games?

30 francs a game?

Five-second limit on moves?

How do you like my hair now?

Is it the right color?

Hmm?

Why?

Why?

Why did you do this?

All these years

that I waited and waited.

How could you play
such a horrible...

Sadistic trick?

I can imagine the scene
in that damn hotel room.

All set for our big coup,
and then suddenly there she is,

your long-lost wife
back from the ashes.

Naturally, you told her how
deliriously happy you were.

Naturally.

In tears,
incoherent expressions

of love and gratitude.

Maybe you even went so far
as to thank God.

I'm sorry to disappoint you.

There were no tears,

and I was quite coherent.

No, I do not remember

thanking God.

Don't laugh at me.

Can you imagine

how she must be
laughing at you?

Fools she made out of
both of us.

Changing her hair,
her clothes,

teaching her
her own handwriting.

You deserve her.

You asked to be walked on,
spat on.

Oh, Stan!

I can't bear
to think of you and her.

I just... I just can't.

I'm her husband.
She's my wife.

You have to think of it...
Often.

But she could never love you
like I do, never.

No.

But she has 300 million francs
and you haven't.

Come, have your bath.

Fabi...

Your stepmother's
moving in here tonight.

She's very nervous
about seeing you again.

I'm not asking you
to fall on her neck,

but you're to do nothing
to show how you really feel.

You understand?

You must sink every emotion...

Just like I must.

Look...

Michele and I
are opponents,

and we have to deal
with each other.

She wanted me,
and she bought me.

I can have all I want
just by asking.

Everything you want
doled out to you

franc by franc,
penny by penny.

Oh, Fabi,

believe me,
it won't take me too long

to get her to sign a very
large portion of that money

over to me,
and then you and... Off.

I don't want her money.

I want you.

And I want you and the money,

not necessarily in that order.

You bastard.

You never loved her...

And you don't love me.

Are you sure?

Oh!

I'm so glad.

It still smells musty.

Come.

Do I have to
introduce you two?

Mademoiselle Wolf,
Mrs. Pilgrin.

I must congratulate you
on a brilliant performance.

I deserved everything
you said to me in that room.

Now, if you'll let me,
I want to make it up to you.

Would you like to rest?

Your room is ready.

Yours and Stan's.

No, thank you.

I'm too tired to rest.

I...

I don't see the Swedish vase.

No, I sold it to buy the table,
the lamp, and the heater.

If you don't mind,
I won't have any dinner.

Are you going out?

No, and I haven't got
a headache,

I haven't lost my appetite.

I just don't want any dinner.
I'm going to bed.

In other words, there's
nothing wrong with you,

but you will be fine
in the morning.

Yes.

She'll be better tomorrow
or the day after.

I hope so.

You remember?

Slivovitz.

Welcome back, Michele.

Thank you.

I'll see
If she needs anything.

- What the...
- It was awful!

I couldn't stay in the room
with her another minute.

That was fairly obvious.

And the thought of sitting
across the table from her

with that chitchat
about tables and vases.

What makes you think
it was any easier for her?

Oh, I know she was just as
happy to get me out of her sight

as I was to get out of hers.

All I could feel when I
looked at her was revulsion.

I'm warning you, Fabi,
I'm warning you.

Don't do anything
to spoil our plans.

I know now why I hate her.

Not because she was
no mother to me.

It's because
she's taking you from me.

I told you, for a while!

If only I could be sure
you loved me.

Oh, you have a great deal
to learn from Michele.

She would never make
the mistake of asking that.

Oh, Stan,
let's go tell her now

how we love each other, that
we've been living together.

Let's tell her the truth.

You know that's not possible.

That would destroy everything.

You pushed me into this,

and you are going to
see it through!

You're more lovely now than
that first night I saw you.

And a man should always marry
a woman with beautiful eyes.

That way there's always
something to love,

whatever happens.

Sometimes I think you really
believe what you say.

I do sometimes.

You have to see your lawyer
tomorrow.

I already did.

Lots of papers to sign,
lots of money coming.

You sound as if
you couldn't care less.

I intend to go back
to my work.

What do I want
with all that money?

I suppose we'll find some
charitable use to put it to.

Michele.

Stan.

Oh.

Oh, I'm sorry I'm so late.

Oh, you've ordered my drink.

Thank you, Charles.

Well...

Are you excited
about tomorrow?

Terribly.

My first day back
at the hospital.

I feel as if I just got out
of medical school.

To tomorrow, then.

- Cheers.
- Cheers.

I hear you bumped into Fabi
the other day.

Yes.
Coming out of a cinema.

Oh?

No, thank you.

I often wonder
what she does with herself.

Just to make conversation,

1, uh, asked her,
"How is your mother?"

And she said she wouldn't

have the faintest idea.

How did you know?

Because she wouldn't.

We live in the same house,

we eat at the same table,

but there's no getting
through to her, no way at all.

I saw a good deal of Fabi
in the last few years.

She's, um,

she's a secretive girl,
doesn't talk much.

I think she needs watching.

Perhaps even psychiatric care.
I don't know.

Dr. Bovard,
your table is ready for you.

Oh, thank you.

- Shall we?
- Charles.

Charles, dear Charles,

do you mind terribly if
we don't have dinner tonight?

Give me some more champagne.

Oh...

You're back?

What happened to
your dinner date with Charles?

He stood me up.

I don't believe it.

Then, uh, I stood him up.

- Better?
- What happened?

You look so worried.

What's wrong?

Stan, don't be such a fool.
Don't you see she knows?

Knows?

Knows what?

You must have known all along.
I wanted you to know.

I could hardly stop myself
from shrieking it at you.

Haven't you seen him
look at me

the way he never
could've looked at you?

That's enough, Fabi.

If you're going to
have hysterics,

please have them
out of my sight.

You miserable coward!

Why don't you
tell her the truth?

You already have
and so delicately.

Please, I have no desire
to come between lovers.

And, Fabi,

before you attack me
for my neglect,

let me point out that you have
already paid me back

quite handsomely.

Yes, isn't it marvelous?

My mother did more for me
dead than alive.

Mischa.

Well... Are you happy now?

Don't touch me.

What's the matter with you?

Just don't touch me.

Just leave me alone.

Thank you.
That's all, Nicole.

Oh, Monsieur Pilgrin
is here again.

I told him you were busy.

Once again you may tell him
I'm not busy,

and I will not see him.

All right,
let's have it over with.

Say what you have to say
and then get out.

I'm not here
to ask you to come back.

I'm here to ask you
to forgive me.

I'm not coming back,
I'm not forgiving you.

Sorry to be so negative.

I must tell you there was never
any real love between Fabi and me.

What I saw looked real enough.

When they took you away,
we were two people alone

in a frightened city.

We had to drift together.

And when it was
no longer frightening,

when I came back?

You think I could go to her
and tell her it's over,

finished, just get out?

You don't know Fabi.

You have no idea
of the violence in that girl.

You have no idea
what she's capable of doing.

No, but apparently
everyone else has...

You, Charles.

Mischa, these past two weeks

without you
have made me realize...

Don't insult me
by saying you love me.

I won't!

But I feel for you what
I've always felt for you.

I've always needed you,
I've always wanted you.

Don't grovel.

If I have to
remember you at all,

I want to remember you
as Stan, the cynic, the actor,

complete bastard.

I promise you
I won't grovel.

I've been miserable
without you,

but I've only to look at you

to see that you have been
miserable, too.

You can't deny you weren't.

Mischa!

I don't care what the basis
of our relationship was.

Maybe it wasn't perfect,

but we had what
very few people had.

We knew what we wanted
from each other,

and we took it,
and we were happy.

I won't find
that kind of happiness

with any other woman.

If you can find it with
another man, I wish you luck.

No, I want you to be wretched,

lonely, heartsick,
just as I'll be.

There is no need for you
to be boxed up in a hotel.

It's your house.
I'll move out tonight.

Stan.

Come in,

I want to talk to you, Fabi.

You don't have to tell me.

Stan didn't come home
last night.

It's obvious
you've forgiven him.

Yes.

I want to be your friend,
Fabi,

I don't want you to suffer.

And, Stan, does he want
to be my friend, too?

Is he worried
about me being unhappy, too?

You will suffer less if we are
not all under the same roof.

Oh, I'm to be booted out.

I will see to it that you have an
apartment in Paris or anyplace else.

Stan and I are going

to Copenhagen this weekend.

Perhaps by then
you will have found

some place you like.

Don't worry about me,
I'll get out.

I'll be glad to get out.

I don't want your sympathy
or your friendship

or your love
or anything about you.

- I want Stan.
- He doesn't love you, Fabi.

And if it makes you
feel any better,

he doesn't love me, either.

He doesn't love you,

yet you'll take him?

He's the first man
in your life, Fabi.

He's the last in mine.

For the last few hours
that I have in this house,

this is still my room.

Will you please leave?

You may not know it now,
my poor Fabi,

but in losing Stan,
you're not losing very much.

She's leaving.

Oh, when?

As soon as
we get her an apartment.

Poor Fabi.

Wasn't it enough of a
misfortune to get me for a mother.

Did she have to fall in love
with you, too?

I'll be at the hospital.

Candles and flowers,
how sweet of you.

You haven't done that
for months.

Tell me about
the reconciliation.

Was it a night to remember?

Passion, tears,
more passion?

Have the coffee
before it's cold.

No, thank you.

I didn't sleep last night,
and I refuse to eat.

I believe that's standard
behavior for a jilted female, isn't it?

I cooked an egg for you.

Three minutes,
just how you like it.

Oh, clever.
Very, very, very clever.

If you must do something
as childish as that,

please don't do it
over my dressing gown.

How much have you
had to drink?

I don't know.

Why don't you
count the bottles?

They're in the bathroom
all in a line.

What do you think drinking
is going to solve?

Apparently nothing.

I tried an experiment.

While you and she
were making love,

I was drinking.

There's really no comparison.

No, thank you, Grand
International Chess Master.

No warmed-over kisses for me,
thank you.

Look, Fabi,

nothing has changed
between us.

I love you as much
as ever... More.

We'll find a way out of this.

It's just for a little while.

How long is a little while?

A day, a week,
a year, five years?

You will have your
own apartment.

We still can see each other.

- I'll visit you.
- No.

I'm not prepared
to wait endlessly.

I won't wait, I can't wait.

I'm sorry
there's no other way!

Yes there is.

But what's the use?
You haven't got the guts.

For what?

All night I was up thinking,
planning.

What time does
the cleaning woman get here?

The cleaning woman?

She's supposed to be here
by 11:00. She's usually late.

Give me half an hour.

That's all I ask,
just half an hour.

What for?

And stay out of the
living room till I call you.

We'll see if
you've got any guts or not.

You can come in now.

Shut the door.

Now, what is it this time?

Tomorrow morning

I tell Michele
I'm leaving immediately.

The house is hers and yours.

Then, the day after,
Friday...

Friday Michele and I
fly to Copenhagen.

No. You tell Michele
you want to go alone.

This tournament
is all important to you,

this wretched business
of Fabi has unnerved you,

you feel drained.

You have to be alone.
just this once,

SO you can
concentrate on chess.

You kiss her good-bye,
you tell her that

you will telephone
right after the tournament

and let her know how you did.

I see.

And in Copenhagen I'll find
you waiting for me.

No, not in Copenhagen.

At the Hotel Royale
in Saint-Cloud.

Saint-Cloud?

That's only 20 minutes
from Paris.

Exactly.

We'll share the same bedroom,
we'll get drunk at the bar,

pick a fight...
I may even slap your face.

Anything to make us
completely conspicuous.

So far I'm completely
captivated

by the charm of your scheme.

About midnight you telephone
Michele, she answers.

Marvelous news,
but not too surprising,

you've won the tournament.

I will settle for a draw.

You tell her that in the safe
is a present for her,

a surprise you've been
planning if you want.

Would she now go
and get it and open it?

Now, you be Michele
and go and open the safe.

You know the combination.

Open it.

Get up.
It's only a blank.

You wretched, wicked girl!

A real bullet
and you've have been dead.

Dead, dead!

Anyone standing in front
of the safe to open it

couldn't possibly escape,
couldn't possibly escape.

In the meantime,
back at the hotel,

the Grand International
Chess Master is listening

on the other end
of the telephone.

You hear the shot.

Obviously, Michele will not
return to the telephone.

You hang up,
ring for room service.

We'll order more champagne.

We might even create
a mild disturbance

for the benefit of
the neighboring rooms.

Then, early next morning,
we leave the hotel.

I think you'd call
our alibi adequate,

wouldn't you?

You return here, you find
your wife's body on the floor.

You replace the receiver
on the hook, and then...

Come here.

You disconnect the gun.

You see how
uncomplicated it is?

It's attached from the door
to the trigger

by this piece of hard thread.

Now, the gun is firmly wedged
between the back of the safe

and the cash box.

You destroy the thread.

And then you place the gun
beside the body in a position

which suggests suicide.

In a frenzy,
you call the police.

They arrive... Not as quickly
as they should, of course.

The police surgeon
makes his examination.

Apparently suicide.

A shot has been fired some
nine or ten hours previously.

The Inspector turns to you.

"I'm afraid, sir,
I shall have to ask you

"to account
for your whereabouts

"for the past 24 hours."

You break down,

accuse yourself
of the moral responsibility

of your wife's death,

confess to the affair
with her daughter,

admit that we were
going away together.

And, obviously,

this shock coming on top
of all Mischa had suffered

in a concentration camp
wore her down.

My anguish
will impress the police.

And when I am questioned,

I shall be half mad
with remorse, too,

having driven my stepmother
to suicide.

I wouldn't be surprised
if it ended

with the police
comforting us both.

And what's the alternative?

You'll just go on living
with Michele on her money.

But she has
the upper hand now.

So you will see more
and more of Michele

but less and less
of her money.

The older a person gets,
the stingier they get,

and Michele will get
very old very soon.

Pretty prospect, isn't it?

It's perfect.

I tell you, Stan,
it's perfect.

You can't find a flaw in it.

You're right.

I can't find a flaw.

And you're quite right about
something else, too...

I wouldn't have the guts.

Neither, I suppose, would.

Still, it's a marvelous dream.

Her dead,
you and I married,

and all my lovely money
piling up six percent

in assorted Swiss banks.

All your lovely money

doled out to me,

franc by franc,
penny by penny.

I took two pills.

In five minutes,
I'll be fast asleep.

I'm such a coward.

I want to be asleep when
Fabi leaves in the morning.

I can't bear
to face her again.

Don't worry about Fabi.

The first corner she turns,
there will be a man waiting.

Ooh, your shoulder
feels so good.

Michele?

Ah, good evening, Maestro.

I'm celebrating my departure.

Will you join me?

Alcohol and sedatives.

Don't you know what that
combination can do to you?

No.

My mother's the doctor,
not me.

Incidentally,

do you have
written permission

to leave the room?

She's fast asleep.

That's funny, so am I.

- Fabi?
- Hmm?

If the safe should be opened

at midnight,
everything's so quiet.

What if some someone in
the street heard the shot...

Investigated?

Oh, you've been thinking.

How could I help
thinking about it?

Wouldn't a shot be heard?

House is so far back from
the street, six stone walls.

Suppose someone
is with Michele when I phone?

At that hour, who?

Don't be silly.

I think I could pretend
I heard someone

and ask if she's alone.

That thread, could it slip?

Not if I tie it right. Simple.

Suppose...

Suppose she opens
the safe before we left?

Silly, she hardly knows
the safe exists.

Well, wouldn't she
think it odd then

by putting a present
in a safe?

Maybe.
But she's a woman.

She'll open the safe.

You really think
there's no loopholes?

I don't know why you're asking
all these questions.

You're not going
to do it anyway.

You left everything
as it was...

The bottle of champagne,

the half-empty
bottle of pills?

Yes, we haven't
touched anything.

This action of
Mademoiselle Wolf's,

did it surprise you?

I mean, had she ever
tried it before?

No, never.

I just cannot understand.

Of course, there were times
when she did get depressed.

Pills and alcohol
often induce a loss of memory.

It could've been an accident.

No, it was
not an accident.

It was not suicide.

It was murder!

I murdered Fabi,
I drove her away.

No love, no understanding,
I wanted her out of my sight.

- I killed her!
- Darling, darling.

I killed Fabi!

- I killed Fabi, I killed her!
- Don't. No, you didn't.

She wanted my love,

and I didn't even try
to love her.

Please, darling,
don't blame yourself.

I made her feel
she had no place in our life.

Go!
Leave me alone! Go!

For five years my wife
suffered in a concentration camp

and now this.

There is nothing we can do
for poor Fabi now.

It's my wife
I'm worried about.

I'm afraid that someday
she might...

Charles.

Shut up, you idiot.

There, six shirts
for three days.

You'll be the best-groomed
chess player in Brussels.

I'm still not sure
if I want to go.

Oh, come on, Stan.

I know we have both been
terribly depressed since...

Since Fabi,
but it's been months now.

We've got to make some effort.

Going back to the hospital
has helped me.

All you have done
is mope around the house.

I don't know
how a tournament...

All that tension.

Listen, you'll leave
for tournaments

and you thrive on tension
and if don't hurry,

you are going to
miss the train.

I call you the minute
it's over, about midnight?

- Will you be home?
- Of course.

I'm going to miss you.

I sincerely hope so.

Don't worry,
it's only Saint-Cloud.

You ruined
my girlfriend's dress!

How do you do?

You'll be paid all of it.

I'll pay you more
and more and more.

Now get out!

I want to kill him!
I want to kill him!

I want to kill him!

8:00, room 28, Pilgrin.

- Come on.
- You are making an exhibition.

Come on,
it's only Saint-Cloud.

Because you're so pretty,

you may help me
out with my coat.

My wallet.

My wallet is gone!

Monsieur, I'm not a pickpocket,
I'm a prostitute.

Yeah, I know.
No, insinuations.

I must have left it
in the bar.

Would you mind?
I'm in no condition.

I know you're not a servant,

but please
get down and get it.

Can I help you, sir?

Operator,
please give me Paris,

Letter 2042.

It's after 12:00.

Don't you think Stan
should have called by now?

I don't know.

Don't know what his...
His telephoning habits are,

and I doubt if I even care.

I offered you a nightcap.

You have helped yourself
to at least four.

That's right.

And now I think
I'll make it five,

and then perhaps
I might be able to tell you

what I really think.

"It's after 12:00.

"Don't you think
he should have called by now?"

My God, Michele,

would you like
my honest opinion of you?

No, keep your honest opinions
to yourself.

Well, I can't.

I can't because it's taken
10 years and...

And five drinks
for me to reach this point.

Now you, you pride yourself
on your intelligence,

your good taste...

I'm intelligent enough
to ask you to leave.

I've stood by long enough
watching you degrade yourself,

- debase yourself.
- Charles!

And for what?
For a louse and a coward!

You're drunk and you're
absolutely disgusting.

Get out.
I want you to leave.

If you have one shred
of self-respect left...

Will you get out? I want you
out of here this instant.

Goodnight.

Hello?

- Hello, Mischa?
- Hello, darling.

- How are you?
- Uh, fine.

Why... Why did it take you so
long to answer the telephone?

- What's wrong?
- Nothing.

Are you alone?

Yes, I'm alone.

What's wrong?
You sound so upset.

Oh, no, nothing.

I'm just a little nervous.

I'm all right now
that you have called.

How did the match come out?

My opponent was clever,
but I was brilliant.

Then you won?

Yes, quite easily.

Oh, marvelous.

We'll celebrate
when you get back.

I celebrated in advance.

I bought you a present.

You did?
Oh, Stan, how sweet.

What is it?

A surprise if I won.

It's in the safe.

And you said
you expected to lose.

Stan, may I get it
and open it now?

Stan, may I get it now?

- If you like.
- I certainly do like.

Hang on, darling.
I won't be a minute.

Mischa?

Mischa!

Mischa!

If your wallet was in the bar,
it's gone now.

Monsieur, I said your wallet
is not in the bar.

I'm sorry.

It was in my back pocket.

Thank you, monsieur.
Thank you.

- Can I help you?
- -Information.

Yes, sir.

Could you give me the number
of the police department?

- 6667.
- Thank you.

- Hello?
- -Hello.

- Police Department?
- Yes, sir.

This is Stanislaus Pilgrin
speaking.

Uh, could you
come at once, please?

Something terrible happened.

My wife committed suicide.

Can I have your name again,
please and the address?

Hello, hello?

Last night,

just before you telephoned,

Charles was here.

We quarreled.

Get out.
I want you out of here.

If you have one shred
of self-respect...

Will you get out? I want you
out of here this instant.

Goodnight.

I heard
the front door close

and naturally
thought he'd left.

I was worried about Michele.

She still blamed herself for
Fabi, and I had behaved badly.

! was just going back to her
when you rang.

If you had rung
one second later,

Michele would not
have been alone,

and she would have told you.

As it was,
1 didn't want to intrude

and decided to wait.

I ran to the safe
to get your present,

but I had forgotten
the combination.

I went into the study
to get it.

On my way back,

I was surprised to find
that Charles had not left.

Oh, Charles,
I thought you had gone.

I'm sorry, Michele, I...

I must've had
a drink too many.

Oh, don't bother to apologize,
just go.

Not till you have forgiven me.

Oh, for heaven's sake,
I'm still on the phone.

I left Charles in the hall

and went back to the safe.

! was just opening it...

Mischa?
- ...when your voice on the phone made me turn.

Mischa?

It was then that
! saw Charles coming in.

How well I understand you.

If there is not God,
no heaven, no hell,

no immortality...

Then everything
is permissible.

There are a few questions

we are going to ask you
about Mademoiselle Wolf.

Fabienne Wolf.

At your service.

The simple
closing of a door

has brought me
to the guillotine.