The Woman with Red Boots (La femme aux bottes rouges)

THE WOMAN WITH RED BOOTS

Heinrich…

Transfer 30000 lire to Zurich.

Block the savings account.

Keep an eye on Wall Street the day after tomorrow.

Buy Sofi-Jet up to 4000.

Sell at 4500.

Any news from Grenoble?

3000 a metre? How many hectares?

Hello! Hello! I can't hear you very well.

Ah… The meeting is postponed till the 20th.

Notify Milan.

I didn't receive Clermanceau's bank statement.

Very well. How's your wife?

And the children?

Yes, everything is fine here.

Goodbye.

There's still time, Monsieur, don't go in.

A least, let me accompany you.

What happened?

- Shall I call a doctor? - Don't bother.

Send the paintings to this address.

Which paintings?

All of all them.

I'll send you a written contract.

We'll buy everything he produces

for the next twenty years.

Feeling better, Monsieur?

A bit.

I didn't sleep a wink last night.

I've told you many times,

don't read in bed.

But you never listen to me.

Hey, what…

I'm surprised you made the trip only for the book fair.

Nowadays we sell books like motorcars.

Now, you wanted to see me…

A new manuscript, Mile LeRoi?

I need money.

As of today, your royalties hardly cover the advance

I already gave you for "Secrets".

The stuff that you are writing isn't… easy…

the public doesn't understand it.

But I'm not doing it on purpose.

It just turns out that way.

I just received a phone call from London…

Someone wants to translate your book.

If you are really in need of money that badly,

why not accept the proposition I made you last year?

Hmm… The forbidden love of the Catholic clergy?

Yes, for example!

I wasn't even baptised.

Damn it!

See you soon.

Hmm… Yes… Check to the king.

For a hundred pesetas I'll show you something.

Do you think I am still curious at my age?

I'm not sure about "curious", but "stingy" - that is quite possible.

Mademoiselle…

Would you do that for me one more time?

Cleber.

Pay!

Gracias, Senor.

Good morning.

Hola.

Would you sell this for one hundred pesetas?

What kind of haggling is that?

I ask because it's all I've got.

In that case, choose a book that costs a hundred.

Pablo!

Hello, M. Villier.

- How are you today? - Fine, thanks.

Tell me, Pablo,

where did you find this book?

Oh, you know how it is…

Books come and they go…

But haven't you anything else by this author?

Francoise LeRoi…

LeRoi…

Maybe that is the only book she ever wrote.

Maybe you can ask around and I'll make inquiries too.

Is it that interesting?

It's kind of logical and yet passionate, if you know what I mean.

Not very well.

Well, let us say it is very feminine.

Okay, now I understand.

Cleber…

Her face changed completely

as soon as she saw that man.

Goodbye, Pablo. Don't forget my book.

Goodbye, M. Villier.

Well, are you buying it or not?

Who is he?

Marc Villier, a director of "Optique", an art magazine…

He lives just across the street.

He's a man who reads too much.

Hey, Mademoiselle, you took my book!

I paid you for it, didn't I?

Are we following her or going home?

We're following! Obviously!

Is there any tea?

Yes, in the kitchen.

I've been at Catherine's.

For five days?

I had to get away.

Jose dropped in and offered me a one-man show in the fall.

- You must be very happy then. - Yes, of course.

What do you think of it?

Not sure.

Look again.

I think it is too photographic.

You said it, I didn't.

Have you found the man of your life?

No, not at Catherine's at any rate!

Oh… I see I have a rival.

You know how it is…

Does Catherine play chess?

No…

Well, what did you do there?

I played alone…

- For five days? - And five nights.

"Dear sir, I realize that my attitude is quite unusual

but one must have the courage of his passions.

I would like to meet you as soon as possible."

Working already?

Your case is hopeless.

You either fall into the grips of dazzling romance,

or yield to the wisdom of bourgeoisie.

The future belongs to those who get up early.

Oh… naive and innocent maiden!

What is the source of that strange power

that I have over all women?

- No, let me go. I must mail a letter. - Silence, Madame, nature speaks.

You better get dressed, you'll catch a cold.

Cleber, the letter.

"…but one must have the courage of his passions.

I would like to meet you as soon as possible.

Would you leave your answer in the column at the pier?"

That must be in the park.

- What about the soap I received? - Not a word.

Just another advertising gimmick. Here.

You're not going to answer that madwoman's letter?

Of course I am.

And I'll wait all night long in the park for my mystery woman.

Come now…

And if she's not crazy?

She won't come now.

"…our first contact should be by correspondence.

Let us continue to write to each other.

After we know each other better, we shall meet, I am sure of it.

Even love is a matter of will.

Dear Mystery Woman,

our first contact should be by correspondence.

Dear Mystery Woman,

even love is a matter of will.

Dear Mystery Woman,

even love is a matter of will."

Reading that letter again?

You must know it by heart!

Yes, but I love what he writes.

And that is enough for you?

You haven't even met him.

There are times when I wish I worked in a grocery store.

"Yes, Madame… That will be all, Madame… Goodbye, Madame."

There would be no more questions.

What questions?

All my life I was plagued with questions.

"Where were you? What are you doing?

What are you thinking of?"

Be a nice girl and tell me.

Your name is Francoise LeRoi, isn't it?

Why did that woman fall out of the window?

Look…

I saw her lose balance and topple over.

Nonsense… One just doesn't fall out like that…

She was washing the windows.

Were you with the woman?

Were you near her step ladder?

What were you doing?

Leave her alone.

What do you expect her to tell you?

She is only a child, a mere child!

Did you hate that maid?

She wouldn't let me stay in the living room to read.

So you pushed her.

I never touched her.

Then why do you feel so guilty?

There were always…

so many strange things in my head.

What were they?

Visions… Very powerful.

I try to describe them when I write, but…

It's difficult, I can't capture them.

And you think that's the solution, bombarding that man with letters?

I want to know him!

Only I am afraid I might hurt him.

I am capable of it, you know.

Even me?

- You didn't write to her? - No.

- But she keeps answering? - Yes.