All language subtitles for 849de0672cd504b0081a748f5b502cfe47844966ff3d6315717a188facf99dbe987e8a247c058c1b5d0810fa160ae011f42ba7eb1344bebba890c0e67251

How beautiful.

In other circumstances, would you
have appreciated Apollon's sanctuary?

Well...

I'm always more or less
in these circumstances.

Deep down
beauty leaves you indifferent.

Not at all.
I don't want to love what isn't any more,

what is irreparably lost for me.

Wouldn't it be weird
to love a dead woman?

Well, Apollo's sanctuary,

the Parthenon,

the churches in the West,

are mummies, embalmed by time.

When I'm standing on the
Akropolis, it feels extraordinary.

Like here.

Now.

One of the places that keep
the secret of what was Greece,

where you can grasp that it was there.

I also think that life came by here,

but it's over.

I feel here as someone
returning to the place where he loved.

But life is not the memory,

it's tomorrow.

I don't know
what they do in Russia, Mr. Boutros,

but I doubt whether
they made something as nice

as the Parthenon.

Before the Parthenon,
or in the same age,

people built temples everywhere,

to guard their most precious things:

their gods and their treasures.

Since the age of the Parthenon,
people have built cathedrals.

What is being built now, you can't compare,

but that's not because of
lack of architects, Malfosse,

but because
there are no gods any more.

So?

So,

we have to design houses for men.

We're very clumsy at that.

Here they played Sophokles'
Oedipus, at the end of the afternoon.

The performance
was that meticulously timed,

that at the moment
Oedipus cut out his eyes

after he heard of the incest
and the patricide he was guilty of,

the red twilight
disappeared instantly

and the light turned dark grey.

My favourite tragedy
by Sophokles is Antigone.

There, you surprise me.

In real life
I imagined you rather on Kreon's side

and on the side of national interest.

Come on.

Yesterday, in Moscow, the trial started

of Stalin against Kamenev, Zinovjev,

and other prominent communist leaders.

They accuse each other
of improbable crimes. Why?

Because they are
sacrificed to national interest.

- Suppose they are guilty?
- Impossible.

In any case not in that way.

If it were true, Zinovjev
and Kamenev'd be exaggerated monsters.

Ever since July 1789 the revolution's
examples of treason abound.

Not at all!

What Stalin wants is absolute power.

It's very simple.

You find it in Sophokles' work,

and in Shakespeare's.

Man has been sacrificed once again to
the interest of the state, Mr. Boutros.

You talk very easy about it, Malfosse.

Looks nice on you,
to talk about human rights.

Where are you coming from?

From where does your power stem,

your bourgeois culture,
so civilized, so tolerant?

It stems from Robespierre's terror,

from the bloody
dictatorship of Bonaparte.

Does the revolution
have to devour its children

in order to find peace?

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

"The room bathed
in a porous shadow spiked with dreams.

"Above the village
only the sun was up at that hour.

"On the horizon
an edge of iron heated white.

"Closer to them,

"the silence of the siesta

"which amortized the life
of people and their accomplices."

Before I left Athens,
Rico told me to go with you.

I don't want to get you as a present.

I want you to decide yourself.

I have decided.

Rico knew that, by the way.

But he always acted
as if he causes the inevitable.

With me you won't have
the same life as with Rico.

I hope not.

Margot? Are you there?

When you have to go to Moscow,

could I come with you?

What the hell, damn!

Where's the room of my driver?

Stairs to the right in the corridor.

The door
straight in front of it. I can...

Who's there?

It's me.

I know
that Mrs. Santorini is with you.

Open up, I have to talk to her.

- Give me 5 minutes, Malfosse.
- No, Margot! Right now!

I have to dress.

I wait for you in my room.

You're acting out
a bad vaudeville, dear Raoul.

De scene of caught in the action...

Do you know how to
ascertain adultery in Italian law?

The officer lets a stick
slide down the intertwined bodies.

If the stick gets stuck somewhere,

it's adultery.
- Please, Margot.

But you're forgetting one thing.

In this comedy
you don't have the husband's role.

You're not my husband.

If Rico can't keep you,
someone else needs to protect you.

Exactly.

I've asked for your help.

And you'll help me
to leave Greece with Boutros.

Come in.

Over there.

Tell the reception to prepare
the bill. We're leaving in 15 mins.

That's the best solution.

If we arrive
together in Patras in your car,

the police won't suspect a thing.

In 5 days there's a boat.
I take that one with Michel.

We'll go to Corfou,
and on to Ragusa as tourists.

A true honeymoon.

Margot.

We're leaving in 15 mins. You and I.

But we're heading back to Athens.

Boutros will get by alone.
We've taken too many risks.

Athens? Why Athens?

You know that it's over with Rico.

Might be it's over
between you and your husband.

He'll regret that whim.

But what you'll do after that
is something else entirely.

What I'll do after that?

I'll leave.

That's what I'll do.

I'll leave with Boutros
and that's my business.

If you aren't ready in 15 mins.
to come with me to Athens,

I'll denounce
Boutros to the Greek police.

You have to take measures. You don't
just walk out of a fortune like yours.

Don't ruin your life on a whim.

For an hour of...

of dirty pleasure that
that adventurer got out of you.

Shut up.

What do you know of pleasure?

In 15 mins., Margot. Tell him.

No danger at all.

I'm Malfosse's driver, that's all.

- Good day, Ma'am.
- Good day.

I'm the Marchioness of Santorini.

My husband is
Secretary to the Italian embassy.

No, ma'am.

- No need.
- Thank you.

I'm leaving you here.

I'll walk until the Gulf of Corinth.

Do you know where we are?

According to legend

and Sophokles' descriptions,

Oedipus
came back here from Delphi on foot

and met Laios, the king of Thebe.

Here Oedipus killed Laios,

without knowing he was his father.

I don't believe
in omens, Mr. Malfosse.

Besides, general Metaxas
prohibited Sophokles' plays.

I want to be
frank with you, Mr. Boutros.

I hope
the Greek police will arrest you,

and that you won't bother
Mrs. Santorini's life any more.

I'll wait 5 days, starting tomorrow.

No longer.

How do I find you in Patras?

I'll leave a message with Cook.

Over here, Mrs. Marchioness.

Mrs. Santorini
just arrived, Mr. Primoukis.

I told her you were waiting for her.

I heard you were in Delphi.

With my good friend Mr. Malfosse.

Did you want to consult the oracle?

In fact I wanted to see your husband.

But he left.

He too.

Charlie!

A Bronx, please.

I went to see him already 2 weeks ago.

In the night of August 4 to 5.

Did I see you then? I don't remember.

You slept, dear lady.
The sleep of innocence.

Thank you, Charlie.

Are you interested
in politics, Mrs. Santorini?

Do you know that general
Metaxas declared martial law that day,

suspended the constitution,

and claimed absolute power
in name of our king George II?

The communists had organized
a massive strike for the next day.

A pretext to mobilize
their troops for a coup d'etat.

Just like in Spain.

There's a civil war there since
1 month because of the communists.

But we were too quick for ours.

We lifted them from their beds.

A hard day,
dear ma'am, a very hard day.

Raoul, give me your word of honour

that you won't try
to stop me in Athens.

Don't cable Rico,

don't incite
my friends, don't preach to me.

I only ask you one thing,

to tell you one more time
what I thing while we're driving.

I can't stop you from talking anyway.

But I'll be deaf. Deaf.

A hard day,
dear ma'am, a very hard day.

Yet, a communist
leader escaped my searches.

One of the most dangerous.

He was educated
in Moscow, with Zacharias Dess.

One of the organizers of the
revolutionary strike in Thessaloniki

in May.

Three times, on the same day,

he escaped me.

I found the man with whom
Boutros had an appointment,

that afternoon.

A liaison officer of the communist committee

who was arrested
at the first morning raid.

We made that liaison officer talk.

He had an appointment with
Boutros in a small cinema in a suburb.

OK, come on.

Regretfully, he escaped once more.

A moving story,
Mr. Primoukis, but I have to go.

I have an appointment.

Of course, dear ma'am,

sorry I've kept you with my chat.

Ah, you wanted to see my husband?

Sorry,
he's in Rome with his ambassador.

Chano wants to consult them.

Count Chano is interested
in Greece. Will he come back?

I mean, the marquis
of Santorini, your husband?

No, we'll have holidays
afterwards. I'll see him in Ragusa.

Are you leaving soon?

In a few days.
I'll take the boat to Patras.

I don't doubt August 4
was an important day in Greek history.

But you see,
Mr. Primoukis, for me it's the day

of the tennis
tournament of the diplomatic corps.

That day my husband won the
men's doubles, with Mr. Von Pahlen,

the first chief of mission
of the German embassy.

It looks like Rico
absolutely wants to win this finale.

Rico always wants to win. He only
plays when he's sure of winning.

Today he'll win twice: the cup,

and Dora Cooper.

Will you console me, Staalbaum?

Once you said to Ferit Pacha
that I'd never get enough of men

because I was never really hungry.

You'll give me appetite.

Just joking. Let's not change
our conventions. You're with me

to defend me
and protect me from temptations.

And to whom
are you attracted? Raoul Malfosse?

He's very dedicated.

- You're often in his villa in Kifissia.
- They're all dedicated.

They all have villa's in Kifissia.

And I'm always seen
in all villa's in Kifissia.

Malfosse
would mean security, for sure.

But I laugh at security.

Bravo!

Mr. Von Pahlen and the marquis
of Santorini won the match in 4 sets.

7-5, 3-6,

6-4 and 6-2.

Here, in Athens,

what are the goals
of our organization?

The king, the country,

religion, family.

The renewal of Greece
by abolishing the party system,

that is the goal
of the regime declared today.

August 4, 1936.

It's the start
of the third Greek civilization

under the auspices of king George

and of
general Metaxas, prime minister.

Is he talking
like that already long time?

Forever. It's the final oration.

In concrete, what's their program?

Martial law,
dissolution of parliament,

measures against the communists.

In short, a military
dictatorship, supported by the Crown.

We want a society of labour.

No Greek has the right not to work.

Work can be spiritual,

but should remain work.

Only unemployed, elderly

and the diseased get dispensation.

Thank you.

Cheers for the unemployed.

That's the end of the petite entente.

The door is open for German
economic penetration of the Balkan.

That's a heavy blow to France.

Which France,
Mr. Malfosse? That of Léon Blum?

Are you ceding Rico
to that Dora Cooper? Without a fight?

I cede Rico to himself.

You can't win from a man's passion
for his reputation as seducer.

Staalbaum says you don't like men.

He also says you like them too much.

Staalbaum want us
to love him, and not look at others.

Not to love him,
but to succumb for him,

and to gasp for breath in his arms.

Tell me, Avghi, do you
really gasp for breath in his arms?

He's an unrelenting Dane,
deliciously rough.

But he's too systematic.

I like rites, but not routine.

With him I'd like
to have a voluptuous siesta!

I'll defend my chances, Avghi.

My impression is that you confuse siesta

with eternal love.

Malfosse returning
from the coup d'etat.

- Are you interested in politics?
- Nee, but I abhor massacres.

Rico says Metaxas is a slaughterer.

You know, Margot, massacres
are a Greek national tradition.

- Hi, Margot.
- Hi.

Hi, Avghi.

I'm thirsty.

To the winner and his beauty.

At your service, Sir.

Odysseus comes home
to Ithaka. He's late.

He had
many adventures, but he returns.

And Penelope's worshippers?

De test with the bow
is tomorrow. Be careful, Odysseus.

There are several worshippers
capable of stretching the bow.

Let's make sure
we have strength for that new test.

What are you thinking?

What I'm thinking, Odysseus?

I wonder
by which sign I can recognize you.

You left me so long ago.

Only Odysseus
knew the secret of the conjugal bed.

He razed so long on the olive tree,
around which he build his house.

In my story he never knew
the secret of the conjugal bed.

Never.

In my story

you're not Penelope.

In my story I'm lost.

I dream that I follow a man

who walks out.

I'm always 7 years old,

and I'm always with
my mother in Vienna when I'm dreaming.

She says my father is gone
because he loved other women.

You enter my dream with a smile.

Very handsome.

But I'm still 7 years old.

And you're 40.

Or my hair is grey and you're young.

Young.

Young like the day I met you.

We never have
the same age in my dreams.

Neither do we have in life.

This is a nice hat, dear.

It looks great on her.

Where did we meet that Dora Cooper?

On the Côte d'Azur,
last year, with Drieu La Rochelle.

Oh yes.

She still thinks
there's a great future for me.

They all think that,
during a couple of weeks.

I myself believed it
for a couple of years.

Let's go to sleep.

It's late for big decisions.

- We'll take my car, Avghi.
- Alright.

This is what I call a real
English breakfast, Mr. Malfosse.

But back to our subject.

That man, that Boutros,

came to you
in the morning of August 5.

Is that correct?

And you don't remember
who recommended him?

Somebody told me about him
at the tennis tournament.

But who?

Perhaps Mr. Staalbaum,
de Danish minister?

Or Ferit Pacha,
Albania's commissioner?

Or the marchioness of Santorini?

Perhaps, indeed.

I have to ask around.

Anyway I just had my new Packard.

I needed a good mechanic.

And I hired that man provisionally.

And he was a real good mechanic.

And he left you on a whim?

Yes, on the way back from Delphi.

On the Livadia road.
I made a remark about his driving.

Or about his behaviour, Mr. Malfosse?

His reaction was rude,
and I put him in his place.

He ran away, across the field.

Didn't he tell why
he went to Patras, when he left?

Patras and bang, Mr. Malfosse!

Soon I'll tell you
the end of this story.

You'll be surprised about
the true identity of your driver.

Yes, I ran.
He knows everything, Margot.

How? No idea.
That guy has informants everywhere.

Yes, someone on the Akropolis,
or even one of my servants.

He knows he's in Patras,
though he doesn't know his real name.

You didn't
tell him that, did you? You did?

I knew it.

Listen, Margot.

Margot, please listen!

I hate to say this, but...

leave immediately. Yes.

Don't take any luggage.
Careful, you'll be followed.

Take buses, and change often.

No. Don't take the boat to Patras.

Take a boat
to the islands and make a detour.

Bye, my girl.

Good luck, Margot.

The consequences of the
Jalta conference are being studied.

The allies are closing in
on the enemy more and more.

Yesterday, February 13, 1945,

The Russians set Budapest free,

while in the West,
the Allied armies marched on

and crossed the river Meuse.

So the last ramparts
of the Third Reich are crumbling

under the attacks
of the freedom armies.

Where's the jail?

- Over there, commander.
- Thank you.

Santorini!

Get your things. You're leaving.

Come on!

There she is!

Did they tell you
who betrayed you, Rico?

No, it was anonymous.

A case of
personal revenge, without doubt.

It's been solved
by intervention of Mr. Malfosse.

Hey, I had to prove

that you broke with
Mussolini in ‘38 and opted for exile.

- Did you know the region, Mr. Malfosse?
- No, not at all.

My place is on the Loire.
The mild climate of the Anjou.

I haven't been there for 15 years.

When Margot asked me to come here,

in her house, just before the war,

I was morally exhausted.
I had nowhere to go.

But I got the taste of it.
I became a real farmer.

So the countryside was good for you.

Mr. Malfosse,
I found this in the bathroom.

But that's very nice, Sir!
What's its name, Sir?

My name is Margot Santorini.

And his, Rico Santorini.
He's my dad's brother.

And you,
Malfosse Santorini? Is that right?

With her I feel
younger and more lively every day.

She looks
more and more like her mother.

Margot came back 2 years ago.
She left the little one here.

She stayed here
a couple of days in her house,

and then she left again.

3 months later I got
a letter from Drieu La Rochelle.

She was arrested by the Germans.

He tried everything. For nothing.

She had disappeared.

Why did you let her go, Rico?

I didn't let her go, Raoul.

I incited her to leave.

She had to go to her own extremes,

even with another.

Because of another.

But of course, a couple
like her and Boutros was sheer folly.

But I thought
that was a necessary madness.

You facilitated her departure
with Boutros too, by the way.

Yes, I could have stopped her.

Without a doubt.

By denouncing Boutros to the police.

I even thought of it for a moment.

I'm ashamed to say.

There's something I never asked you.

Did you know Boutros
before that famous night?

In all good stories there's
a character who represents fate.

Boutros was fate.

He rammed into us.

That night Margot and I
had once again decided to separate.

We didn't have the power and
imagination any more to live together.

We didn't have
the courage yet to part ways.

Good night.

"...we move,
at the rhythm of the waves,

"we cradle our
infinity on the infinity of the sea.

"Some happy to flee
an ignominious fatherland,

"others the misery of their youth,

"and some astrologists
drowned in the eyes of a woman,

"thee tyrannical Kirke
with the dangerous perfume."

"Astrologists
drowned in the eyes of a woman..."

Let me stay a while in your room.

I'll explain it to you.

I'm not a burglar. They're
after me for political reasons.

Even normally English is hard for me,

but at night
with a revolver on my back...

You have to talk more slowly.

What did you say?

I'm not a burglar.

I'm hunted down for political reasons.

I'm a trade unionist.

Metaxas's police is after me.

Can I get up?

Aren't you French?

My father was French.

I was born in Austria.

But I lived in France.

I'm telling you my life.

With a gun pointed at me I tell all.

My husband is an Italian diplomat.

- Italian?
- Yes.

Oh, damn.

Daylight. You can't leave any more.

- I'll wake up my husband.
- No!

What are you imagining?

That we'll bring you
to the police because he's Italian?

What is your idea of people?

Anyway, in your situation,

you have no choice but to trust me.

Wake up all guests on the ground floor.
I want to search all rooms.

The first floor too.

Rico.

You'll think I'm crazy.
There's a man in my room.

Already?

Rico, I'm serious.
Metaxas's police is looking for him.

He saw me at the window
and jumped into my room.

A decent woman
shouldn't live on the ground floor.

In Paris,
if you lived on the ground floor,

that was bad for your reputation.

It's not about my reputation,
it's about a human life.

Sir marquis!
The police wants to see you.

Go to your room.
I'll take care of this.

I'm sorry,
but it's Mr. Primoukis himself.

I'm really sorry.

A dangerous man. Always armed.

An agent of the Comintern.
His name is Nicolas.

Primoukis,
I don't care what's his name.

I'm telling you he's not
with me. That should be enough.

- But Mr. Santorini...
- Marquis of Santorini.

Or excellence, as you like.

Marquis of Santorini, are you Italian?

An ally against communism.

Exactly, Mr. Primoukis.

It's not polite to insist.

Will you search
the private home of an ally?

And even an allied diplomat?

Marquis,

then I ask you to have a look
in the room of your wife.

Primoukis.
Are you suggesting that there's a man

in the room
of my wife I'm not aware of?

Would she have a lover?

We can take a look, Primoukis,
but do you realize the complications?

One moment, Mr. marquis.

Much more distinguished like this.

Do you have a driver's license?

I have an international driver's license.

Do you know about car repair?

Sure, I worked in a garage.

That's settled then.

Raoul Malfosse
needs a driver-mechanic.

He can't refuse my wife anything.
He adores her for a year now.

Does that
Mr. Malfosse have political ideas?

He does public works
in Greece, Syria and Egypt.

In France he'd be
against the Popular Front,

but here his competitors
are Germans, Italians, so...

he's rather antifascist.

But as an Italian,
why are you helping me?

I'm not an Italian.
Mussolini is an Italian.

I'm nothing. A cosmopolitan.

An impoverished aristocrat
who married a rich, pretty woman.

Too rich
and too pretty for me, by the way.

Do you know Valerie Larbaud? A French
writer, my favourite writer.

Well, you don't need
to know Larbaud for your trade.

Politics is dry,
otherwise it's not politics.

To make it you need
ambition and perseverance,

a taste for authority,

the ability to betray anything,

except the idea
that it's about your own fate.

That goes for bourgeois politics.

The bourgeoisie doesn't need
to get involved in politics.

Not directly, anyway.

They make money
and goods circulate. That's enough.

Frustrated little men
go into politics in their place.

Like Mussolini, for instance.

With us...

With you politics
is also for bourgeois specialists.

Stalin is after all
just an ex-seminarist.

For me politics isn't just Stalin.

It's the collective
violence of the people.

It overturns the course of
history which is always tyrannical.

The will to put
awareness against resignation,

word against prayer,

the risks of life
against the certainty of death.

Come in!

Thanks, that's fine.

Are you hungry?

Your ward has devoured your breakfast.

Good way to slim down.

Good choice. He's very romantic.

And he's
even better without moustache.

You were great with Primoukis. Great.

Even if he wouldn't have been here,

I wouldn't have let
the police into your room.

In spite of everything
I'm the embassy's secretary.

Do you think Malfosse
will be as understanding as I am?

Go on now.

Room 717. Here you are, Sir.

Ah, good morning dear friend!

You didn't have to wait too long?

Margot was radiant that morning.

Without doubt she didn't know yet why.

But her body showed off her happiness,

even before her soul
had guessed its reasons.

I waited
impatiently for her in Kifissia.

Her calls were full of hints.

I looked out for her BMW...

No, it was a convertible. Cord,

latest model.

The BMW was in 1935.

- Do you think so?
- Absolutely.

A white Cord. She had
bought it in the spring of 1936.

What's the mystery here?

Why did I have
to wait for you far from home?

Your servants
shouldn't see me arrive with him.

Does Rico know about this escapade?

Come on Raoul,
what do you think of me?

Do you listen to the gossip about me?

Raoul, are you my friend?

There's nobody in Athens
I can ask what I want to ask you.

Mrs. Santorini told me about you.

- Are you a good mechanic?
- Pretty good, I think.

I need you for 2 weeks. No longer.

- Does that suit you?
- Suits me perfectly.

In 2 weeks me too,
I have to be somewhere else.

Margot, you'd better return now.

I don't want my servants to see you
on the day of Boutros' arrival.

Alright.

Thank you.

Don't forget our lunch!

I won't, Raoul.

With your permission,
I'd like to thank Mrs. Santorini.

I need you in 5 or 6 days.
Your car could break down for example.

You have to run some errands.

You'll ask to borrow
the Packard from Mr. Malfosse.

I'll drive.
I have to go to town to get in touch,

to know about the situation.

As a driver I'm safe.

OK.

I know you like that.
Just like in the movies.

Funny. In my youth in Egypt
my father had a Jaguar too.

Aren't you Greek?

Sure, I'm Greek.

But my mother was French.

My father had
an export business in Alexandria.

Here, you'll eat with my servants.

I would hope so.

There's no other solution.

A man like you
probably likes equality.

Equality!

Equality, Mr. Malfosse,
isn't that I eat with your servants.

Not even that you eat with them.

It means that you can't say any more,

"my servants",
because there'll be no more servants.

Such nonsense.

And when
will we get this idyllic society?

For how long do people preach the
evangelic principles of Christianity?

We'll discuss it again
in 2000 years, Mr. Malfosse.

But first I'll send you my valet.

He'll bring you to your room.

Margot will fall in love.

"Fall in love". As if it's a sin.

- Will you lose your wife?
- She isn't my wife any more.

- I haven't touched her for ages.
- Why not?

I don't know.

I look at her.

I find her pretty.

But the images stay away.

The words too.

Do you get laid with images and words?

I'm a refined Italian, you know that.

Yes.

I'll work on my vocabulary.

- Did you marry in France?
- Yes.

Will you have a divorce?

Probably.

I'm warning you,
I'm not going to marry.

That doesn't interest me.

The money is Margot's, right?

So you'll be poor, so much the better.

I love to pay men whom I make love to.

Then you have to pay me a lot, dear.

Why?

Because I never stay long with anyone.

Short term
investments are the most expensive.

Margot?

Margot, your turn.
What are you thinking of?

Pay attention: "I've taken
the power minimally required

"to counter communism

"and I won't renounce it

"before I've purged
the country of communism

"and established a stable order."

There. It looks like, Mr. Von Pahlen,

that general Metaxas
is your chancellor's equal.

But no, Mr. Malfosse.
You're blinded by passion.

Chancellor Hitler
didn't take power by a coup d'etat,

but by free and fair
parliamentary elections.

In fact, Metaxas's coup d'etat

was prepared
by your English allies, not by us.

But you will be
the ones to profit from it.

France has parceled out Eastern
Europe and the Balkan as it likes,

since more than 15 years.

France had won
the war, Mr. Von Pahlen.

But France lost the peace.

You lived carelessly

on the powder keg
that is the treaty of Versailles.

Are you interested in the
treaty of Versailles, Mrs. Santorini?

Sure Mr. Von Pahlen, I have to be.

- My country stems from it.
- You are Austrian.

Yes.

Good thing your husband isn't here.

He'd throw a scene,
as husband or as diplomat,

because the Duce
is very interested in Austria.

Way too much.

To the integration of German peoples.

I'm not sure that's desirable.

It's here.

- I have to leave.
- Leave?

I got instructions.
I have to go abroad.

But we haven't even
been able to talk together.

The first night we talked some.

Your legs were intertwined with mine.

I felt your round hips under my hands.

Go on, please.

Say anything, I'm listening.

I'll never know
the taste of your mouth.

Michel.

Michel Boutros.

Primoukis is continuing his research.

He thinks I hid
in the Akropolis that night.

He interrogates the hotel personnel.

You should
never be seen with me again.

I'll ask you
to do one more thing for me.

Tomorrow morning you'll go
to an address I'll give you.

It's in Kolonakis.

Kalimera.

- Are you Amalia Sefaris?
- Yes.

I heard the mail
from Thessaloniki arrived well.

Is Tsingos OK? Did he escape?

The mail
from Thessaloniki arrived well.

That from Thessaloniki, indeed,

but the letter from Lamia got lost.

I don't know a thing about... Tsingos.

I was only supposed to fetch
an envelope that you're keeping here.

Of course, I'm sorry.

The question escaped me.

I'll get you that envelope.

Amalia?

Did Tsingos live here?

Is Boutros in the garage?

We decided
on a surprise party at your place.

- Do you accept?
- Come in.

That's fine.

- Good evening.
- Good evening.

- Hello, ma'am.
- Good evening.

Good evening, Dora. How pretty she is.

Who got this crazy idea?

If anybody sees Boutros
and starts to talk, I have a problem.

Primoukis didn't give up.

It was Margot's idea.
She wanted to see him one more time.

Yes, Boutros is leaving.
But don't jump the gun.

You'll be organizing the departure.

What do you mean, me?

Margot arranged
everything, she'll explain.

I'd liked to have asked Rico.

But he's off tomorrow
to Rome, with the ambassador.

And with Dora Cooper,
I'll tell you frankly.

Well,

I succumb once more to your wishes.

Boutros'll leave earlier, on foot,
in order not to attract attention.

We'll pick him up
just outside of Athens.

In Delphi he'll leave us.

We'll drive back together. Alone.

Don't play with my feelings, Margot.

But I'm playing with mine, Malfosse.

I have your passport.

Amalia Sefaris is very pretty.

I've arranged
everything for the departure.

Malfosse brings us to Delphi.

From there you'll go to Patras.

There are boats everyday
to Corfou, loaded with of tourists,

hard to check.

I wrote down
everything here. Read it later.

Here.

You should be
the organization's secretary.

Would you like to know
the taste of my mouth now?

I could hide you.

Keep you close to me.

Keep you.

Keep you.

No.

You love me because I'm leaving.

Because...

there's something in me...

that transcends me.

You need another life.

Not a lover.

Michel...

Michel.

I'd like to keep you.

I'd like to keep you.

We can't?

You arrive breathless and bare feet,

and yet no man
is missing on the terrace.

But men don't
interest me, Dora. not at all.

How funny you're acting.
Whom are you talking about?

About who else but Rico
would Dora and me be talking?

Leave with Boutros.

I barely saw him,

but he's the kind of man
you'd have to recognize immediately.

He exists.

You're wasting your time
with me, like you did with Staalbaum.

With Malfosse you'll be bored.

You're made
to give yourself completely.

I bet Boutros won't love you
as much as I do, but...

he'll love you better.

Communism isn't
that important. It's just a word.

You know what life does with words.

A strong man is worth more
than the words that make him live.

I wasn't able to help him yet.
Why do I feel akin to him?

Do you remember, Rico?

Do you remember,
2 years ago, when my mother died?

I was in Vienna. It was February.

Dollfuss' troops
crushed the labour militias.

I didn't understand it at all.

But I was shocked.

Now that story takes on significance.

You never told me that.

You see?

You kept that memory for Boutros.

One thing. Leave money for me.

So that I can recuperate,
and can arrange it with Dora.

Yes.

Alright.

Rico.

- Hello.
- Hello Ma'am.

We have an appointment with Mr. Drieu.

Mr. Malfosse.

- I'll have a look, Sir.
- Thank you.

This is Dora Cooper's house.

I'm fine here, awaiting my dead.

The Germans had taken
Dora prisoner in a camp near Vittel.

In 1942 I managed to get her out.

Dora told you about Margot's arrest.

How did she hear?

Oh, I forgot that.

But I have immediately taken steps.

I tried to find out. Nothing.

She had disappeared,
taken to somewhere in Germany.

She was pretty, right?

I remember a kind of inner flame.

A stubborn joy of life,

almost desperate.

Why has she left?

She wanted to visit someone
on the other side of Europe. A Greek,

a communist we called Boutros.

She must have been
arrested on the way.

What a shame.

Around 1934
I was fascinated by communism,

just like the 2 or 3 men I admired.

After that I reversed,
for the same reasons by the way.

The same bad reasons.

That's over now.
Nothing interests me anymore.

What's more, it escapes us.

The advance of communism in Europe

is getting more obvious, inescapable.

Stalin
has to go all the way, right now.

Take all that
America and England granted him.

Not one inch more.

Look at Greece now.

The communists are crushed
and Stalin doesn't lift a finger.

He lets Churchill...

Won't there even be an apocalypse?

Surely not. There'll only be politics.

Kalimera.

I have a reservation. Mrs. Santorini.

Santorini Margot. Yes, indeed.

- Aren't you worried about noise?
- No.

Your apartment
is on the ground floor. Vey noisy.

I don't care, I want this one.

Thank you.

Your father
commanded a battalion of partisans.

Close to Athens.
We got orders to retreat.

Boutros didn't agree.

He went to talk at headquarters

with the party's cadre.

On the way back he was ambushed

on the road to Delphi.

Primoukis...

Primoukis, an ex-policeman,

collaborator,

who was working for the English,

stabbed out his eyes

before he had him executed.

You don't look like your father.

You look like your mother.

Crazy, how much you look like her.

It's unbelievable.

I thought I saw her again, like
on that summer's day 30 years ago.

She asked me

if Lamia's letter did arrive.

That was the password.

I saw her again in 1943.

I had to bring her
to Tsingos in the car.

She was held up at a raid,
2 days before going to him.

She disappeared without a trace.

Tsingos was your father's
real name. Did you know?

Tsingos' daughter.

Unbelievable.

"Above the village
only the sun was up at that hour.

"On the horizon
an edge of iron heated white.

"Closer to them,

"the silence of the siesta,

"which amortized the life
of people and their accomplices.

"They rested against each other.

"The desire that made its way through

"the worry
of their souls finally went to sleep.

"Their hunger wanted to bite.

"He opened his arms.

"Flowers hold up
their petals high before they bud.

"Wonders of the bodies.

"Wonders of enchanted souls.

"Felt till
the extremities of the breasts,

"until the tip of the nails,

"until the tip of the tongue.

"At the moment that pleasure
went through its mysterious passage,

"they looked
at each other through the dusk.

"With brotherly passion,

"They wanted to make
this journey through hells,

"where most
leave each other and get lost."