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THE LOVERS

Bravo, Raoul!

Come, Kiki.

What style!

Isn't he fantastic?

Oh, you know I'm no judge.

Indeed, Jeanne Tournier knew nothing about polo.

At times she accompanied her friend Maggy.

Friends from childhood,

they were both provincials by birth and by education.

But while Maggy had married

and now led an exciting life in Paris,

Jeanne had stayed in Dijon

to wed Henri Tournier, publisher of the Burgundy Monitor.

Henri loved his wife

but devoted most of his time to his newspaper.

She spent several years living this way.

Encouraged by her husband,

she'd recently taken to visiting Maggy twice a month in Paris.

She had fun, met all sorts of people,

and received reassuring compliments.

At Maggy's, Jeanne met Raoul Flores.

He's never played so well.

He's unbeatable. Bravo, Raoul!

You were wonderful.

Here, take this hideous thing.

Were you bored?

On the contrary.

You almost made me lose.

Me?

I could think of nothing but you.

Really?

- Do you still like me a little? - I do.

- Only a little? - No, more than a little.

I'll go change. I'll be out in five minutes.

Let me have a look at you.

Love agrees with you. You're unrecognisable.

Love agrees with you. You're unrecognisable.

- Hello, madame. - Hello, Coudray.

- How's everything? - Fine.

I'm dead tired.

Then madame must rest.

Catherine!

Darling!

Not so fast! You'll fall.

My little baby!

Were you a good girl? Hello, Marthe.

Madame's changed her hairstyle.

Me? I don't think so.

Yes, it's like my dolly's hair.

That little hussy? Thanks a lot.

- Where's Papa? - Can't you hear?

I'll be up to say good night, darling.

Hello, darling.

Why so affectionate?

Affectionate? I'm just being myself.

Am I interrupting?

I always do, don't I?

"Always" is a woman's word.

Did you have fun in Paris?

- "Fun" is a man's word. - Instead of being witty...

First, I'm not witty. Second, I'm doing the best I can.

No, you could go see about dinner.

Very well. I'll change in no time and be back in a sec.

"No time," "in a sec."

That's Maggy talk.

Thanks, Coudray.

Well?

You've no idea how important one's hairstyle is in Paris.

It can be sleek or windswept, but it must be stylish!

It's the hair that makes a dress chic.

Thanks to hairstyling, you recognise...

Who?

Everyone.

American women, Swedish women, Parisians, provincials, everybody.

There's truth in what you say.

Maggy knows these things.

She says if you're not a great beauty,

you must have a look.

But you don't need a look. You have a husband.

Who hardly notices me.

If that's so, for whom do you wish to have a look?

Nobody special.

For myself. To be fashionable.

I have a right.

And dear Maggy?

Still as silly and as busy as ever?

What can I say? Make fun of her if you like.

I'm not. I'm merely stating facts.

To me Maggy means phoney chic,

phoney society, phoney Paris, phoney everything.

Even her dog's phoney.

You're being nasty.

Not at all. I'm very fond of her.

Just yesterday I put her picture on the women's page.

"At the Bagatelle Polo Club, Madame Marguerite Thiebaut-Leroy

"awards the Carven Cup to Raoul Flores, team captain..."

That's right.

I know him well.

I saw him every day.

- Interested in polo now? - Yes.

Is he handsome?

More than that, he's very kind and intelligent.

You'd like him. Besides...

This is for you.

I had no time to talk to Coudray.

Anything new? Any problems? How's the garden?

You wouldn't need to ask if you spent less time

ignoring what goes on here.

I'll get it.

Speaking.

All right.

Now?

No, I'll decide myself.

I'll take care of it.

See you later, Helene, dear.

I must go to the office.

What a bother!

Anything I can do to help?

You look sad.

Me? I'm not sad.

Why aren't you sad?

Maggy had said, "You're unrecognisable."

Henri hadn't noticed a thing.

Monsieur spoils Catherine when Madame's gone.

She's putting on airs.

- It amuses him. - No, that one needs mending.

It's bad for the child.

She does whatever she wants.

If he spoils her like this, she'll give you trouble later.

By a strange quirk of character,

Jeanne felt a surge of jealousy.

Is Madame going out?

Evening, Marcelot.

I'd like to see my husband.

He's... Seeing the paper to press. I'll get him.

I'll go with you.

I'm Helene Cavalier, Mr Tournier's secretary.

Marcelot said you were here. I hope it's nothing serious.

What gave you that idea?

I'm sorry. We're not used to seeing you here.

And at this hour? It startled me.

Don't worry.

I just dropped by to see my husband.

He's in the type room.

Helene, where were you?

Madame Tournier.

Helene, look at this.

Surprised?

She's a lucky one.

Who?

Her.

Jeanne, be serious. I have no time to waste.

Why have you come?

I don't know.

Henri's lack of interest in her made Jeanne feel free.

Her stays in Paris grew longer and more frequent.

Good morning, Chantal.

- What time is it? - 11:45.

Mrs Tournier's been up for ages.

Of course.

May I?

Did you sleep well?

You like this?

It's all right.

What's wrong? Get up on the wrong side of the bed?

Raoul adores you. Isn't that enough?

Let yourself be loved.

I am.

I know 30 women who'd die for him.

But you needn't worry. He's at your feet.

When you're away,

he spends sleepless nights wondering about you.

He's used to certainty, and you've thrown him off track.

He told me so.

It keeps me from sleeping, too.

Until noon.

Do you love Raoul or not?

- I guess so. - What an answer!

Don't you come to Paris to see him?

Can't you decide to be happy for once?

What more do you need?

Eight years of marriage, of course Henri doesn't understand you!

At least he hasn't made you his slave.

You're lucky to be so bored at home.

Boredom is a rest cure. Believe me, I could use one.

A rest cure at home, and you're complaining?

I'm not.

Oh, it's you. Hold on.

It's Raoul.

Good morning.

And you?

Don't forget dinner at the Andres' tonight. No excuses.

Let's get away from them.

- No, we can't. - Coming?

- Jeanne's tired. - Come on. Just for a few minutes.

None of us intend to stay out late.

Wait for me!

Stand clear! Prepare for takeoff!

I'd like to make you happy.

But I am happy.

We only get moments together. I want a lifetime with you.

I often wonder why you love me.

I've told you a thousand times: because you're different.

- Different? - From other women.

Hello, Raoul.

I hate all these women who must chase you while I'm away.

Don't be silly.

I just want to say that I trust you.

My love.

You seem sad. What's wrong?

I'm jealous that you're going home

to your life, to your husband.

Let's not speak of him.

I think I'll move to Dijon

and sneak into your room at night like a thief.

No, don't get out.

Jeanne's uneasy double life was not to last for long.

One night, before leaving for Paris...

...cream cheese,

squash, lamb, lettuce and fruit salad.

Marthe, please give the week's menus to Coudray.

Very well.

- Good night. - See you Sunday, Marthe.

Weren't you going to say good night?

I thought you were asleep.

You only had to look up and see the light in my window.

Look at me.

You don't look like you came from a business dinner.

Everyone always drinks too much.

Too much.

I see you're ready to leave again.

Haven't you had enough of Paris?

It's a pleasant change.

Maybe for you. I'm fed up with it.

I wasn't planning to go, but you were going away.

I cancelled my Swiss trip three days ago.

Yes, but I invited myself to Maggy's. I couldn't back out.

Don't make excuses!

Excuses only cover up lies.

Just let me say I'm surprised.

You've known Maggy since childhood. She's your best friend.

You can go see her any time you please.

It's very odd that you can't get out of this.

Unbelievable, in fact.

- She's easily upset. - Let her be! I don't care!

And if she's as touchy as you say,

why isn't she upset that you never invite her here?

You'll kindly call her tomorrow morning

and say we expect her next weekend.

I'll be seeing her tomorrow in Paris.

You don't need to go!

Listen here, Henri. Drink doesn't agree with you.

She's giving a dinner for me

with the Dupuis, the Dupas, the Sanders and Raoul Flores...

- Of course. - You think that's funny?

She can invite whomever she wants.

- Whomever you want. - Of all the things to say!

- If you only knew him... - That's entirely up to you.

Are you crazy? You're dreaming!

"Raoul and Maggy", that's all I ever hear.

If they're so inseparable, invite them both.

- You're mad! - I insist.

Invite both of them on my behalf.

You'll be sorry. They'll bore you to death.

Bore me? Far from it.

I'm dying to meet this pair that seems to amuse you so.

You never cease to amaze me.

Leaving after one day because of your husband's silly weekend!

I came for your dinner and to talk to you.

About Henri's dreadful idea for the weekend?

Call him and say we can't come and that you're staying here.

He'll quite happily go fishing.

I can't, Maggy,

and you know it.

- I'm leaving. - I wish I could go with you.

If you did, Maggy wouldn't come. Don't be late.

Don't worry.

- I'm afraid. - Of what?

Everything.

Of yourself?

Of me?

- Then what? - I don't know.

When I think of you and me, I'm always worried.

Perhaps that's what love is.

Finally! I can't believe it!

- You're the first to stop! - The first?

- You're joking. - I'm not.

My car's broken down.

- A tyre? - No, the engine.

The engine?

Then I'm not your man.

Engines and I don't see eye to eye.

If you could just try it...

- It's dead. - And so?

So for lungs or intestines, I'm no doctor.

It looks dead, but you could have it operated on.

If you'd take me to a town with a garage, I could manage.

All right. Get in.

I'm in a hurry to reach Dijon. And you?

Are you from around here?

No, just visiting.

Anybody here?

Present!

Is there no one here?

Present!

Sorry. I didn't see you.

My car's broken down.

My car's broken down!

Don't waste your breath. He's deaf.

- Is that your car? - If only it were.

Mine's down the road about four miles from here.

That's bad.

- What is it? - A Peugeot 203.

- What? - A Peugeot 203!

That's even worse. This is a Renault garage.

Don't get upset, lady.

I'd be happy to help, but you'll have to wait.

But I'm in a terrible hurry!

I'm repairing the tow truck!

Do you at least have a phone?

In the back.

- Do you need me any more? - I guess not. Thank you.

What's the best way to Montbard from here?

I'd like Dijon 413.

Thanks. Good bye.

Miss, cancel that call.

Sorry to be nosy,

but if you're going to Dijon, could you drop me there?

- My car's nothing fancy. - As long as it runs!

I must warn you, I don't drive fast. I hate speeding.

And I have to stop in Montbard to see an old professor of mine.

- I have to give him some books. - Will it take long?

- Just a second. - That's fine.

My suitcase!

Never mind. I can send for it later.

All I ask is to be home by 8:00.

Bernard Dubois-Lambert.

I know a Dubois-Lambert who plays golf at St-Cloud.

Jacques.

My cousin. I avoid him like the plague.

He's a charming man.

The Dubois-Lamberts are related to the Klebér sugar family.

So I hear.

And the Thiebaut-Leroy wool family.

I know them all.

Maggy Thiebaut-Leroy is my closest friend.

- I pity you. - You know her?

No, thank God. Only by reputation.

I avoid all those awful people.

You were right. You certainly don't speed along.

I do my best.

Crazy driver!

What?

Hurry! Try to catch them!

- Catch who? - Them!

I asked them to my house for dinner.

You shouldn't have.

Where are you going?

I told you. I have to stop to see an old professor.

Just a second.

Your joke's gone too far.

I didn't force you to come along.

- You said just a second! - A figure of speech.

It was 45 minutes.

I'm sorry. I didn't know my friend wasn't well.

He's sick.

My visit did him good.

He'd set out crackers and wine for me,

and he kept on talking.

He'd have been hurt if I'd just popped in and out.

To the right.

What time is it?

- 8:10. - That's awful!

If they're real friends, they won't mind.

I wanted to greet them. My husband barely knows them.

- He doesn't know your friends? - He didn't want to know them.

- Is he some kind of bear? - Yes, that's exactly what he is.

And you're afraid the bear will frighten your friends.

Precisely.

So you married a bear.

A bear who owns the Burgundy Monitor.

Does the whole town stare when he leaves the house?

We live outside of Dijon. Besides, we're used to it.

Tell me: Is he dark brown?

Big? Fat? Enormous?

Very big.

Then he's an Ursus giganteus.

Does he wear a cap?

Sometimes.

He speaks several languages, drives his car himself,

eats only honey, fruit and eggs,

is subject to violent fits,

and is apt to crush people he dislikes.

Sounds like you know him.

I know animals.

That way.

Good God! I see two corpses flattened in their chairs

and a big brown bear watching us. Is that your husband?

It's just nerves.

I see a brown bear!

- When did this start? - Just as we pulled up.

- Henri Tournier, her husband. - So I gathered.

Bernard Dubois-Lambert.

- François' son? - His nephew.

I haven't seen François in ages. He's one of my best friends.

What happened?

...and after a quick stop in Montbard, we came straight here.

Thank you for being so kind.

No trouble at all.

I was going to spend the night in Dijon anyway.

Out of the question.

You'll dine with us...

And stay overnight.

- But... - No buts about it. I insist.

- I don't want... - Well, I do.

Excuse me a moment.

- You'll muss my hair. - It's not even fixed yet.

They're waiting. What's wrong with you?

I wonder.

Did you ask Coudray to set an extra place?

- What about a room? - I'll see to it.

- Which one? - The green room.

What a lovely house. Beautiful country.

It's too far from the sea for me. What can one do here all day?

One could settle down here.

Ask Jeanne what she thinks about that.

- Jeanne? - Madame Tournier.

She jumps at the slightest chance to come to Paris.

In Paris, life forges its own path!

And leaves you stranded.

- Poet or pessimist? - Archaeologist.

I share your affection for these charming provincial homes.

I remember them as the verdant paradise of our childhood affections.

May I show you to your room, sir?

Shall we go in?

Mr Tournier insists that I stay overnight.

I'm delighted.

Coudray, we'll eat in five minutes.

Yes, ma'am.

Forgive me?

Have you calmed down?

I'm so embarrassed.

I never saw you really laugh before.

What did he say to you?

Why'd Henri invite him? He's silly and pretentious and gets...

On your nerves?

Dinner is served.

Maggy on Henri's right, of course.

Raoul here.

- This doesn't make me feel younger. - What?

All this. The walls, these things.

You haven't changed a thing. Is it courage or laziness?

If I changed everything, how would I hold on to my youth?

Everything here makes me feel young.

That's fine in the provinces, but if you lived in Paris!

Everyone's buying Louis XV now. I'm in antique shops all the time.

I never have soup.

You feel younger sleeping in some stranger's love nest or deathbed?

I don't think about that.

I just try not to clash with current fashions.

Could you ever possibly?

- Raoul was in Russia, you know. - I didn't know that.

Jeanne's fears proved justified. Dinner was a disaster.

Raoul made polite conversation to fill the silence.

A frontier is merely a line you step across.

With that one step, you're in a foreign land.

Are Russians really foreign?

For a Spaniard like me, no more than the Germans or French.

The Germans! That's a bit much!

A bird!

Coudray, light a candle and turn out the lights.

"Am I bird or am I mouse?"

It's a harmless little bat.

Maggy, you've forgotten your childhood.

Please go on. You were saying that in Moscow...

Differences are striking when you travel.

In Moscow I saw no dogs, beggars, baby buggies or bicycles.

- Sounds marvellous! - But did people look happy?

Do you know any country where they do?

How people look depends on the weather.

If it's rainy and cold, they're grumpy, but on a nice day...

- It's gone. - The filthy thing!

I was in Russia as a tourist.

Then you saw nothing.

I found Dostoyevsky, Gogol, Tolstoy...

Raoul has friends everywhere.

Do go on.

I so long to see Russia.

Darling...

You long to see Russia?

Why didn't you say so?

I thought you wanted us to go to Florence

on a second honeymoon.

Second honeymoon?

Yes, and after eight years of marriage.

Amazing but true.

Jeanne and I don't change like weathervanes.

Congratulations.

To our love, darling.

Are you blushing?

Did you give Coudray instructions for tomorrow?

What do you mean?

Aren't you going fishing?

No, I thought I'd stay with you.

He's making a great sacrifice. He adores fishing.

I once did too, before polo lured me from the joys of nature.

I admire you for playing croquet on horseback.

Why?

I hate competition. I can't bear losing.

Can't one also lose in the game of love?

You treat love like a sport.

If you do go fishing, I'd enjoy going with you.

A visit to the ponds of my youth!

Let's all go. I'll feel young again!

Could you be up by 4:00 a.m.?

In Paris I go to bed at 5:00.

It'll be a change, getting up when I normally go to bed.

What do you say, darling?

So you enjoy fishing.

I do.

Then I'd be delighted.

- Will you join us? - He only likes birds.

- Ornithology? - Archaeology.

Same thing.

Look at these.

Rare 18th-century editions

on archaeology in the Autun area.

Quite noteworthy.

Thanks, darling.

Isn't Châtillon nearby?

Yes, not far.

You've no doubt heard of the gold and bronze found there.

Of course. I know the curator of the museum.

I'm not angry. He's always enjoyed teasing me.

And he's so sweet with you, you secretive thing!

Raoul, where are you?

In my memories of a ride at the fair.

Don't trust appearances.

Henri's never like this. He's just acting.

Good actors can reveal the truth.

- They tell lies. - They tell the truth.

I didn't come here to listen to arguments.

Though I understand Raoul's point.

You understand nothing!

What are your plans, darling?

What plans?

For tomorrow.

Well...

I'm going with you.

- That's why I'm off to bed. - Yes, me too.

I've had a long day. I'm exhausted.

Coudray, wake us all at 4:00, except for this gentleman.

- Good night. - Thank you.

Have a nice trip.

There are cigarettes here and whisky there.

Play all the records you like. Make yourself at home.

Thanks again. Good night.

- Night, dear. - Go right to bed.

I certainly will.

Ah, a whiff of the good old days!

Sleep well.

No, I can't! Don't you understand?

- Only too well. - I'm scared! It's too dangerous!

- Stay! - I can't!

Her world was falling apart.

A hateful husband, an almost ridiculous lover.

The tragedy Jeanne thought she was in had become a farce.

Suddenly she wished she were someone else.

It was as if he'd been expecting her

and yet didn't seem to recognise her.

It's you.

You must be happy living in such a lovely place.

If only it weren't in the provinces. I prefer Paris.

Paris and its flavour of the day. You like that?

When I'm tired, everyone bores me, and you're boring me now.

I don't mean to.

Please leave me alone. I need to think.

Let's think together.

You're so annoying.

I agree. At times I can't stand myself.

Quite often, I imagine. What do you do then?

I dream about beautiful things.

Things you don't like.

You don't know what I like or dislike.

You don't seem to like this sky or this moonlight or this house.

Don't talk about the moon as though you invented it.

Moonlight is fine, but there's nothing special about it.

Stop sounding like your friend, Maggy What's-her-name.

Don't feel obliged to keep me company.

I wouldn't dream of it.

You're too complicated for me.

But I'm not a bad guy.

You think so?

I'm sure of it.

"The moon rising in cloudless skies,

"suddenly bathed her in its silver beam."

Whom do you mean?

"She saw her image glowing in my eyes.

"Her smile like an angel's did gleam."

"The night is beautiful."

"The night is woman."

Let me go! You have no right!

Love can be born in a single glance.

In an instant, Jeanne felt all shame and awkwardness die away.

She couldn't hesitate.

There's no resisting happiness.

Is this a land you invented...

For me to lose myself in?

Henri sets these traps.

Yes, I know.

Come.

Yes, I know.

It's Henri.

Come.

Let's go around the other way.

No, not back in your house. Let's leave.

But I have to change.

Come upstairs.

My baby.

You'll catch cold.

My sweet.

My angel.

Go to sleep, darling.

Sleep, my little doll.

That was Catherine.

My daughter.

Your daughter?

You choose.

- My darling. - Don't talk.

I love you.

I love you and I love Catherine.

Darling.

Take my hand.

We should go.

You're beautiful.

You're my love.

You're beautiful.

I've known you forever.

I've known only you.

- What did you write? - Guess.

I'm so happy.

So happy!

I'd have spent my whole life...

We have to go.

I'll get dressed.

Are you asleep?

I'll get dressed.

What are you doing?

I always keep the tub full,

and on warm nights, I take a bath.

You'll have to get used to that.

Is it nice?

Listen!

You'll wake everyone up!

We'll sleep together always.

I'll take care of you.

My life for yours.

We'll be fine.

You'll see.

It's 4:00, ma'am.

Thank you, Coudray. I'm up.

- Thank you, Coudray. - It's time.

What's wrong, my love?

I hate all this.

All what?

All this.

These footsteps, these voices, all this domestic hubbub.

This house, your husband, your friends, your life.

You hate it all?

Even me?

If we'd left last night, we'd be alone now far away,

on a new morning.

It's still our night,

and when our morning comes, we'll be far from here.

Then hurry up.

Then let me go.

Never!

Hurry up.

Hurry up.

I love you.

My darling...

My life...

My heart.

- My wife? - Yes.

Yes, I'm yours.

Say it.

I love you.

Forever?

Let's get out of here.

No, don't take anything.

Well, well! I'm flabbergasted!

Did you know him before?

Shut up, Maggy, and don't try to understand.

You never will.

Up already?

Are you leaving?

Yes, I'm leaving.

She's really amazed me this time.

Don't be silly, Raoul. You're not her husband.

The wind's shifted. You'll have good weather.

Why are you crying?

Night.

I wish it were always night.

Are you very happy?

Very happy, but don't cry.

I'm sorry.

I know it's silly, but I'm no longer myself.

But I want you to be you. It's you that I want.

Where shall we go?

It doesn't matter.

I'd go anywhere with you.

- I want to kiss you. - No, don't look at me.

I'm hungry. Shall we stop?

Jeanne, the sun!

They set off on a long journey, aware of its uncertainties,

unsure of ever recapturing the happiness of that first night.

Already, in the treacherous dawn hours,

Jeanne had doubted herself.

She was afraid, but she had no regrets.