Cosmos Page #2

a charming house for them.

Very rustic.

It's dragging on a bit, but great.

Monsieur Lucien is having a hard time.

Miss Lena dreamed of acting,

but now she teaches.

They make a sweet couple, eh?

Married for two months and still...

In love...

They stayed in their room all day.

It was like their...

Nuptial suite.

Right.

Mind you, now it's settling down a bit.

With time...

With time passing.

Oh love.

Good thing it's not for me.

What did she mean by "good thing"?

Where were you last night?

Monsieur was on watch?

It's not your business.

If you come back with a disease...

I play safe.

The senses,

even when they make no sense...

We'll go see your sparrow.

- Catherette...

- What?

When one has a mouth like hers...

Manipulated, I could say.

He, to himself, for his own.

He, to himself, for his own!

It was here?

Well, yeah.

The string?

What about going to the beach?

- I'll skip my homework.

- My pleasure.

Wait.

- Don't tell me...

- Ralph and Lang.

- Borrowed?

- More or less.

Like your chic suit?

You're the errand boy, right?

- I came here in retaliation.

- Same with me.

This pretty girl, the posh one?

She dumped me

for an idiot from Grenoble.

They always dump us for idiots.

"The Daunted."

The title.

"The Haunted."

"The F***-ted", right!

You never told me what it was about.

- A love story.

- Like yours?

The opposite.

Him and her,

like an apple split in half.

Incest?

He was her tennis coach.

So she was the posh girl?

Except the horror

came from a towel hanging.

- Hanging where?

- A locked room.

- And?

- The towel is moving.

- By itself?

- It billows.

On its own, it billows.

Just a draft?

I wish.

- Your father read it?

- He hated it.

Your mother?

She pretended not to understand.

Hold it.

So much water!

Fuchs' idol.

For me, it would be theatre.

Louis Jouvet.

The savage power of a stupid thought.

The savage power of a stupid thought.

Your bird?

In person.

Oh, for once to be seated near to her.

First names, okay?

Multiple adventure-ess,

pass the gas to your stepfather?

Rapture of the senses...

little smoking goose.

So then,

the big boss of my outlet.

Leon, dodging and contrast.

If you're too soft with a client, dodge,

drop a dirty word

in order not to get complacent,

choke his peepee...

And toughen the terms.

Yes, but who can assure

anyone of anything?

Look, the secretary of the boss-um

as dumb as one can be,

ratting the day she was at the boss-um,

to tell him

that I spit in the paper basket.

Y es, but...

What blouse did she wear on that day?

The one with the embroidery.

But then one day, unannounced

the big boss-um of the boss-ums,

the one of all the outlets

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