In The French Style Page #7

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I know how you feel.

The same way I feel about

the hospital sometimes.

Where is the hospital? San Francisco.

Been here long?

Five weeks.

The changes that can take

place in five weeks!

Good Lord.

One more week, and back to the hospital.

Did you do any sight-seeing?

Not as much as I'd like.

I had to visit a few hospitals here

and there and give some lectures.

I'd have loved to have gone down

south this time of the year,

place Christina keeps talking about.

Saint-Paul-de-Vence.

You've been there, haven't

you, Mister Beddoes?

Yeah.

Christina told me.

Oh, thank you.

Oh, we'll make it the next trip.

You're planning to come back again soon?

In three years.

I figure I can get away for six weeks

in the summer every three years.

People don't get so sick in the summertime.

Uh, excuse me. I have a couple

of telephone calls to make.

Downstairs and to the right.

The woman'll put the calls through for you.

She speaks English.

Christina doesn't trust my French.

I sincerely hope you'll be able to

join us for dinner, Mister Beddoes.

Well, I made a tentative promise I'd meet

some people, but I'll see what I can do.

Good.

That's why the hair's like that, isn't it?

That's why.

And the nail-polish.

And the tea.

What did you tell him about

Saint-Paul-de-Vence?

Everything.

Look up from the damn cup.

What do you mean by "everything"?

Everything.

Why?

Because I'm going to marry him next week.

And I'm going back to

San Francisco with him.

And you'll come back here

three years from now

for six weeks in the summertime, because

people don't get so sick in the summertime.

Exactly. And that's okay?

Yes.

You say that too defiantly.

Don't be clever with me.

I'm through with all that.

Garon?

Bring me another whiskey, please.

And you, for the love of God, have a drink.

Another tea, please. Oui, Madame.

Will you answer some questions?

Yes.

Do I rate straight answers? Yes.

What's so great about him?

What can I be expected to say to that?

He's brilliant in his work.

He's saved a lot of lives.

He's pure and dedicated and a

good, gentle, responsible man.

And now what do you know? What else?

And he loves me.

He loves me.

I saw, immoderately.

Immoderately.

And I love him.

Once upon a time, you thought you loved me.

Once upon a time.

And with a difference.

If I stayed with you, in five years,

I'd either hate you or forget you.

Five years from now, I won't

be able to live without him.

That's five years from now.

Let's talk about now.

Would you like to get up from this

table and go off with me tonight?

Yes.

But you won't. No.

Why not?

Because I don't live for tonight anymore.

I don't believe you.

Let's talk about something else.

Where are you going on your next trip?

Kenya? Bonn? Tokyo?

Why not?

Because I'm tired of people like you.

I'm tired of all you spoiled,

hung-over, international darlings.

I'm tired of correspondents and photographers

and promising junior statesmen.

I'm tired of all the brilliant young men

who are constantly going

off to negotiate a treaty

or report a revolution or die in a war.

I'm tired of airports.

I'm tired of seeing people off.

I'm tired of not being allowed to cry

until the plane gets off the ground.

I'm tired of answering the telephone.

I'm tired of being so damn prompt.

I'm tired of sitting down to dinner

next to people I used to love

and being polite to their Greeks.

I'm tired of being handed around the group.

I'm tired of being more in love

with people than they are with me.

Does that answer your question?

More or less.

When you left for Egypt, I decided.

I leaned against the railing and watched

them refueling all those monstrous planes.

And I dried the tears and I decided...

The next time, it was going to be someone

who would be shattered when I took off.

And you found him?

And I found him.

And I'm not going to shatter him.

Christina, look at me.

Christina.

Write me in San Francisco.

I'd better go.

(CHUCKLES) God, I'm getting senile.

I'm tempted to cry in restaurants.

I don't want to wait for the check.

Tell your friend I'm sorry,

I can't make dinner.

And that I apologize for

leaving him with the bill.

That's all right. He'd be happy to pay.

Bye.

(NO AUDIBLE DIALOGUE)

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