Baldabiou:
I once knew a man who built his own railroad. It was completely straight. Not one curve in it. He had a reason for that. I don't remember what it was. Reasons get forgotten.
Baldabiou:
There seems to be some trouble in Japan...
Hélène Joncour:
What is it?
Hervé Joncour:
It's your garden.
Hélène Joncour:
It's my garden?
Hervé Joncour:
Well, not quite. Not yet. For now, it's a plot of land. Our land. And the house is also ours. This is where we'll grow old Helene.
Hélène Joncour:
But I don't understand...
Hervé Joncour:
The eggs have hatched, they're perfect. This year's production will be huge, and Baldabiou has already paid us our share. We're rich, Helene. We're very very rich!
Hélène Joncour:
[
Awestruck] And this for such tiny eggs...
Hervé Joncour:
[
toasts] To our lasting friendship.
[
first lines]
Hervé Joncour:
Steaming water. Strange trees. Laughing children. Her skin... those eyes. But why should I tell you about it? Why now? Maybe I just need to tell someone about it. And that someone is you.
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