The Lost Moment

The glory of the world is its scattered beauty.

Its tragedy; The beauty that has been lost.

In that empty space, there might've been a book

with the greatest love letters even written.

Letters of unsurpassed charm and passion

written in the last century...

by this man, the great poet Jeffrey Ashton,

to the beautiful Juliana Bordereau.

Over 30 years ago I, Lewis Venable, then an ambitious young publisher

read those letters.

For a few amazing, tormented hours I held them in my hand.

Literary treasures that publishers from Europe

and America had sought long and desperately.

It all began with a brief, tantalizing note

from a derelict artist, Charles Russell,

who had vanished years before in the continent.

Venice. I remember the long journey from New York.

I remember standing there on the footway of the canal waiting for Charles.

And as I waited, phrases from his letter to me echoed through my mind.

Juliana Bordereau was still alive. Surely she has his letters.

What a success for you if you got them.

The publishing triumph of the decade.

What would you like to do about it?

- Welcome to Venice, Lewis. - How have you been, Charles?

- Have you made the arrangements? - Yes, I have.

Alright.

- There it is, Lewis. - Juliana.

In that house, still alive. The immortal Juliana.

A hundred and five.

That is pretty close to immortal, isn't it?

That's where they met.

He came to this house as a guest, to have Martin Bordereau

paint his portrait, and met Juliana.

The exquisite Juliana. This is where it began.

The same Lewis Venable. Always at home with the past.

Who would ever have thought that she'd still be here,

In Venice... that house.

Have you seen her?

No, I doubt if anyone ever sees her.

Except her niece, miss Tina Bordereau, and her servants.

They're expecting me, there'll be no slip-ups?

No, I left a deposit of 50 franks with the housekeeper.

I think they needed the money badly. Tomorrow they're expecting you.

I followed your instructions, said you were...

William Burton, a young writer from America.

Well, if everything is as you say it is...

- It is. - You'll be well rewarded.

- How well? - I'll send you 500 dollars tomorrow.

If you get the letters, Lewis, and publish them,

- You'll make a great deal of money. - I'm not concerned about that, Charles.

Whatever money may come of this will go to those who are entitled to it.

To Juliana, perhaps.

Did you know that Jeffrey Ashton was last seen in that house?

One of these days she'll catch you in here and that'll be the end of you.

Why don't you see who it is, Amelia?

I think you should pull the drapes, the sun's beginning to come into the room.

Amelia, did you allow the cats into the house?

I thought I heard...

No, miss Tina, I didn't hear anything.

Si, signore?

Good day, signorina. I... I am William Burton from America.

Would you be good enough to tell your lady that I...

Miss July, please, come.

- Miss Bordereau. - How do you do, Mr. Burton?

- I've... been expected? - Yes, you've been expected.

This, um, seems the perfect place to write.

If I'm...

not tempted from work, I should finish my novel by the end of the summer.

I'll tell my aunt you've arrived.

You and your aunt live here by yourselves?

Yes.

Isn't it a bit lonely here for you?

It's only being with people that makes one lonely.

Miss Bordereau...

I shouldn't like to come here against your will. It's her will that counts.

Poor kitties, you have to stay here all this time behind that curtain.

Please, kitty, please, you're gonna get all of us in trouble. Please!

She hates them. She told me if she ever finds them in...

In that case, we better get them out of here.

My poor kitties. I won't let her hurt you.

She, um, she wouldn't really hurt them, would she?

You don't know miss Tina. The things she says.

- You mustn't tell her they were in here. - I won't. I promise you I won't.

Don't be so frightened.

You don't know her. You don't know this house.

So far as I can see, this is the loveliest house in all of Venice.

Not only that, you and I should be friends.

Oh yes, signore. Yes.

Amelia! What are you talking about? Making more trouble?

I told you never to speak with strangers.

I'm just waiting for miss Bordereau.

And Jeffrey Ashton once lived in this cold, forbidding house.

I felt the past closing around me like the fog.

Filling me with a nameless fear.

I had a sudden impulse to turn and leave but then I remembered the letters.

The door to the present shut behind me.

- Mr. Burton, my aunt will see you. - Thank you.

My aunt is very, very old. Try not to stay too long.

Mr. Burton is here.

This was the divine Juliana of Ashton's poem.

An ancient hooded skull...

Old... old beyond my wildest expectations.

- I... - Sit down.

Tina doesn't like strangers.

Strangers sometimes prowl.

- I assure you ma'am... - I'd hear you.

I never sleep.

I hear every sound in this house.

Tina thinks I should send you away.

Aunt Juliana, I warned y...

- Be quiet! - We don't want anyone in this house...

It's not 'wanting', it's 'needing'.

And you're quite unpleasant to this young man.

You think that's right? When he leaves, he should remember us pleasantly.

Be nice, Tina. Be nice.

Mr. Burton, if you're about to live here it will cost you a great deal of money.

- I thought the arrangements had been ma... - Things have changed.

- 200 franks a month for a furnished... - Nothing is sure.

- And if you want to live here... - I do.

I want a thousand franks a month.

- I'll pay it. - I want it in gold.

Today. Three months in advance, today.

- Go now. - Very well.

Bye, miss Bordereau.

Your rooms are across the Galleria. I'll show them to you now.

There are three rooms here that connect with each other.

You have your own entrance from the garden.

Your mail will be brought to you.

You're determined to seal me off from the rest of the house. Why?

The arrangement were made for this room, Mr. Burton.

Since you, uh, feel so strongly about me..

Perhaps it'd be better...

My aunt insists, we've very little choice in the matter.

We need the money.

And you're willing to pay an extravagant price for this.

Why, Mr. Burton?

I'll get the keys, Pietro.

Fantastic. To leave the most beautiful Italian Venice for this.

- Goodbye, Father. - Goodbye, Tina.

- Good afternoon. - Good afternoon, Mr. Burton.

I'd hoped to be here earlier,

but at the time I'd been at the bank and bought some things...

- I'm not coming at a bad time? - Doesn't matter.

In that event, Pietro can have the keys.

Amelia, will you show this man where Mr. Burton's rooms are.

Come in, please.

I thought, if you didn't mind, Pietro could take care of the garden.

- He'll, uh, he will have plenty of time. - I wrote down an agreement.

We can both sign if it's satisfactory to you.

- We, you mean your aunt? - I mean I'll sign it for her.

Thank you.

Was that a parish priest I saw leaving the house?

Yes, Father Rinaldo.

- Your aunt isn't... - You needn't worry, it's nothing serious.

I'm glad. She seems so old, so frail.

She couldn't really be your aunt? There must be generations between you.

Here's your copy of the agreement, Mr. Burton.

Amelia?

Come here, Amelia.

You want to talk to me about something?

I believe you wanted to see me, come in.

You can sit there, it's very comfortable.

You can visit me whenever you like.

- But did someone send you? - Oh, no!

I just wanted to see...

- Going to be a pretty room now. - I'm glad you like it.

My mother would beat me if she knew I was here. They don't like you.

- Who doesn't like me? - My mother...

Miss Tina. I hear some talking.

- But I like you. - What did they say, Amelia?

My mother said...

- you'd bring bad luck. - And Miss Tina?

She's wicked. She gave my cat to Vittorio!

Dry your tears.

Go on, it's yours, I'm giving it to you.

Remember, I said we're going to be friends.

It's so soft. Pretty.

It's charming, Amelia.

- I can wear it to church. - Yes, Yes.

Amelia...

is miss Tina always wicked?

No. Sometimes's she's kind. Sometimes...

It's better when she's wicked. Mother protect me...

What did you see, Amelia?

- I have to go back. - So soon?

I made some milk for my kittens.

It's very dark, should I light a candle for you?

Oh, no! I know my way.

I know all the rooms, and all the ways to get to them. I hide sometimes.

I have secret places.

I know everything about this house.

Perhaps, um... one day you'll take me with you?

No! I didn't do anything!

- Stupid girl. - No! It's mine. It's mine! No!

I don't like strangers.

We hadn't had a cut of beef like that in a year.

- What are you looking at? - The garden. He's putting the weeds.

Stop rising your head. We have enough to tell the priest already.

Taking that handkerchief. You want to be sent away?

Good morning. It looks like another warm day.