The Barefoot Contessa Page #12

some length, on this piece of paper

Would it not be

better if you told me?

No

It looks like an army

document of some kind

It is in Italian, and

I do not understand

Che sar, sar

That is also Italian

Apparently, I am not

to be let off anything

Yes, it is an army document

A medical report,

dated October 25th 1942

from a base hospital in Benghazi

It describes in detail

the degree to which my body

was blown apart by an explosion

And, with understandable pride

the skill with which they

put some of it together again

Do you understand now why

it is so important to me

for you to believe that I

love you with all of my heart?

The report will tell you that almost

the only undestroyed part of me...

is my heart

I love you with all of it

So that was it

What?

Nothing

Tell me, how long

could you stand it?

What do you mean?

How long could you stand it?!

- As long as I could

- And who's the lucky peasant?

The gardener, the

chauffeur, the stable boy?

Who's the contessa's

cousin this week?

- Harry, I couldn't help myself

- Neither could he!

That's the unholy pity of it

The one man in all of your fantasy

and the one woman in all of his

who could have made each other happy

And, once more, life

louses up the script

But I will make him happy

Look, will he let

you go back to work?

I can wind this one up in six weeks.

You can take him to California

You weren't listening to me.

I'm going to make him happy

How? How are you going

to make him happy?

By more of the same,

until you get caught?

- I don't want to get angry with you

- Then why tell me about it?

Because I needed to tell you

Harry, what do you think

would make Vincenzo happy?

You, as the perfect, beyond

reproach, last contessa

That would only

make him less unhappy

What he would wish for more

than anything else in the world

is that neither he, nor his

sister, nor I be the last

- As a wish

- It will come true

What are you talking about?

- I have made it come true

- You what?

What has happened to your

sense number six, Harry?

- Who knows?

- Only you and I

- What about the father?

- It is not his concern

The baby will be

mine and my husband's

- Do you really believe that?

- It will make Vincenzo happy

Maria, don't you know the

man you are married to?

You're talking mawkish nonsense

you remember from cheap films

Your husband is not out of James

M Barrie or Hans Christian Andersen

He's a tortured, neurotic man,

who's finishing life on his own terms

No, Harry. This time it is

you who does not understand

I know Vincenzo better than you do

Amen to that

How much simpler it would be,

for so many of us

if Kirk Edwards had not found it

necessary to look for a new face

May I help you in any way?

- Who's going to tell him about it?

- I am, of course

- When?

- Tomorrow

- It will be difficult for me

- Suppose he doesn't see it your way

- What will you do?

- What every other woman would do

- I will have my baby

- What about... whoever he is?

That is all over. I'm going

to tell him now. Tonight

That will not be difficult at all

She's dead, Mr Dawes... and so is he

I have known for some

time that there was someone

It may be a questionable compliment

but I did not suspect you, even

though Maria visited you tonight

What did she tell you?

What did she say to you?

She just wanted to talk...

about old times

For a skilful writer, Mr Dawes,

you are an incredibly clumsy liar

Did Maria have a chance

to say anything before...

No. What could she

have had to say to me?

Not a thing

There is no need for you to stay,

Mr Dawes. I've sent for the police

It may be embarrassing for you

I'll hang around

- Do you know any Spanish?

- Very little

The Spanish word for... Cinderella?

I've been told a dozen times

Just a word I keep forgetting

Blue skies, boss.

We'll have some sun tomorrow

Yeah, we'll get a good

day's work done tomorrow

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