Beat the Devil Page #2

to take a plane.

Time. Time. What is time?

The Swiss manufacture it.

The French hoard it.

The Italians squander it.

Americans say it is money.

Hindus say it does not exist.

You know what I say?

I say time is a crook.

If we took a plane,

we'd be there inside 15 hours

instead of who knows when.

I don't want any more talk

about flying.

The sky is for the birds.

My feet are on the ground,

both of them.

Come in, Billy-Boy.

What's all

the fuss about?

No fuss, Billy.

We're merely wondering

what course to pursue

in view of this

unfortunate delay.

Join the peasants

in their revels.

Go to church.

Write your memoirs.

Very funny. Ha-ha.

I like an associate of mine

to have a sense of humor.

A good laugh does more

for the stomach muscles

than five minutes

setting up exercises.

And now that we've had

our moment of fun

and all the better for it,

let's get back to the question.

Doesn't this delay call

for a cable

to your friend

in British East?

Mustn't send cables.

Can't you get it

through your heads

that the population down there

has trained noses?

They can smell a uranium deal

like a cat smells fish.

But aren't you afraid,

Billy,

that when our little party

doesn't show up

on the date you said-

Aren't you a teeny bit afraid

that your friend

might use that as an excuse

to begin negotiations elsewhere?

If my friend were looking

for an excuse,

he'd find a better one

in the morning papers.

What do you mean?

I'm talking about the

untimely demise of Paul Vanmeer.

Well, I'm appalled, Billy.

What an unwholesome opinion

you must have

of your colleagues

to imagine that we-

Look here, Peterson. You don't

have to convince me of anything.

You don't care

what I think as long as I don't

do anything about it.

And I won't

unless you ever decide

to sic that knife-happy

little junkie on me.

Watch yourself, laddie.

Now, Jack, behave yourself.

Sit down.

For shame, Billy.

I think you owe an apology

to everybody in this room,

and if you're half

the gentleman I know you are,

I'm sure you'll make it.

As I was saying,

you have nothing to worry about.

My friend won't pull out

unless I tell him to,

and for purely venal reasons,

that's the last thing

I have in mind.

Jack, give Billy a light.

What a wonderful car.

It looks as if it had won

the Grand Prix d'Elegance

many years ago.

- Oh, it did.

It was built for Oriposo.

You know, the bullfighter.

He had it made this way

so he could stand up

and take bows.

He only got one ride in it.

He bequeathed it

to me on his deathbed.

Well, here's to Oriposo.

I hope you like champagne.

You mean, it's yours?

Gave it to my former chauffeur,

the fat bandit in the front.

Harry, look

at that wonderful villa.

Oh, that was Bertie Crampton's.

Oh, you mean, Lord Crampton

in Gloucestershire. Heh.

His family acres marched

hand in hand with ours.

Gloucestershire,

the cathedral towns,

trout fishing,

garden parties-

What a beautiful life.

You know England well?

Emotionally,

I am English.

I serve tea every afternoon

with crumpets.

And I've always kept up

my subscription

to Country Life

and to Tattler.

The trouble with England, it's

all pomp and no circumstance.

You're very wise to get

out of it. Escape while you can.

Well, I'd hardly

describe myself as escaping.

It so happened that a relative

of mine, first cousin actually,

who died recently, happened

to own a coffee plantation.

Africa's the place now.

You talk about the diamond boys,

the gold boys.

They've just skimmed

a little off the top.

The potential mineral wealth

of Africa

has hardly been scratched.

Now, there is a villa.

Big.

That's the Villa Capriccio,

famed in song and story.

A three-star attraction

in Baedeker.

Well, whose is it?

The banks own it now.

Used to be mine.

- Yours?

- Yes.

I brought old Charles over

from Fouquet's.

You know, the old Fouquet's,

to run it for me.

Then when I decided

to pull up stakes,

I bought him this restaurant

we're going to.

Least I could do

to show my appreciation.

Well, here we are.

Charles!

Wait here a minute

while I rout old Charles out.

He doesn't know

we're in this neck of the woods.

Charles!

Heh.

He must think

we're extraordinarily naive.

Knew all those people.

Owned that vast villa.

Bought this place because

he liked the fellow's cooking.

What utter balderdash.

Well, perhaps he did.

I beg leave to doubt it.

Did you notice his wife?

She seemed to me rather

a sensitive little woman.

Really embarrassed

by all that rot.

I'm sorry, signor,

as you see, we are closed.

We do not open

for another two months.

Charles, what's going on here?

This place is falling to rack and ruin.

The placed is closed. We'll have

to dine in the hotel after all.

Monsieur Dann.

Monsieur-

Monsieur Dann.

Madame. Why did you not let me

know you were coming?

You did not say you were

with Monsieur Dann. Heh-heh.

Nothing is closed

to Monsieur Dann.

Good to see you again,

Charles.

It's been too long,

Monsieur Dann.

Not since the night

you left the villa. Ha.

Remember your farewell party?

I've tried ever since

to forget it.

Remember how in the morning

we escorted you

to the train

with violins playing

and everybody cried

like when a king

you love very much

leaves his country.

Aren't you dressed yet?

Do I appear

to be dressed?

Do dress, do hurry.

It's the most wonderful day,

and Billy wants us to drive out

and see his villa.

Uh, his former villa. Hm.

Obviously, I can't go.

I've got a chill on my liver.

What a miserable place

to be ill.

And you forgot to pack

my hot water bottle.

You packed it.

Gwendolen,

I distinctly remember-

Hello.

Oh, hello.

No, I-I'm afraid we can't.

Harry has

this wretched chill and-

Uh, give me the telephone.

Chelm here.

Yes.

Quite.

Absolutely.

A hot water bottle.

That's very,

very good of you, old boy.

Now, look here, Dannreuther,

would you mind very much

if my wife went alone?

She enjoys this sightseeing sort

of stuff, you know.

Splendid.

Splendid.

I'll send her along.

You know, Gwendolen, nowadays

one simply cannot afford

to dismiss people just because

they're not one's sort.

One has to try

and bridge the gulf.

After all, it's a new world

we're going into.

One's got to take it

as one finds it.

Face it.

Use it.

Master it.

You know,

I- I've seen Americans

on the street and in the cinema,

of course, but I-

I've never talked

to one before.

Are you a typical American?

I think it's important

that I should know.

Why important?

There are two good reasons

for falling in love.

One is that the object

of your affections

is unlike anyone else.

A rare spirit,

such as Lord Byron.

The other is that

he's like everybody else,

only superior.

Harry, for instance,

is the very best of a type.

Well, if you must know,

I'm a typical rare spirit.

How long did you live here?

Oh, the longest I've ever

lived anywhere is two years.

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