The Round Up Page #2

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It's too premature.

You promised

to hand over your Jews.

I promised nothing.

- I said...

- What's wrong, Bousquet?

- I said I'd talk to my superiors.

- That's a joke.

Don't let your resolve weaken

so close to our goal.

Must we bring troops from the front

to do the job ourselves?

You couldn't!

- You imagine refusing?

- I didn't say that.

- 100,000 Jews is too many.

- 20,000 isn't enough.

The Fhrer would not understand

if you refused to cooperate.

He'd interpret it as provocation.

An insult.

Look,

you empty it out like this.

Careful you don't make a mess.

Sura, did you see my rolling papers?

No, that's not the tobacco.

It's the solvents, the paint.

My papers, darling?

In the dresser.

In the drawer.

On the right.

The second one.

You don't even know

who smoked them.

What if he had tuberculosis?

No danger of that.

I pinched them off some Germans.

- Great big fellas, they were.

- Bastards are fighting fit!

I hope they all rot from cholera.

Can I practice now?

Can I? My audition's on Monday.

Can I start?

I don't think Shabbat's ended.

One...

two, three...

Three stars, Sura.

Shabbat's ended.

Don't you believe me?

No.

Jo...

Come over here.

It's true, Mum, honest.

Go on, put your ballet shoes on.

Five police training schools.

I know what's coming.

Our government must reassert itself.

We need new training schools.

No more paramilitary police.

- No more Police for Jewish Affairs.

- Darquier'll be pleased.

His militiamen are exemplary.

They're thugs.

- Rabble.

- Who do the dirty work.

They don't have the file of Jews.

We have it.

Can't you change the music?

I like Chopin.

He was Jewish, wasn't he?

Sura, not all geniuses are Jews.

I'll get you!

Stop that.

I have a suggestion.

We organize everything.

But you restore

our police's authority.

If all goes to plan,

I promise

the Fhrer will listen favorably.

Vanda Lesniak.

Sarah Landeau.

Annette Monod.

Lucienne Dufresnes.

Goodbye!

Have a good holiday!

Look, Mum, I won the prize!

That's wonderful, love.

What's wrong?

Come on, let's go home.

We'll pay for private lessons

with Prof. Grunstein.

He's banned, too.

That way, you keep your teacher.

Dad, private lessons are expensive!

So? I'm not a cripple, am I?

Listen and remember this forever.

They can ban you,

but they can't ban your talent.

The war will end one day.

All wars do.

- We must leave right now.

- And go where?

The Ritz?

They're dismissing Jews

from universities,

the civil service...

Everywhere, Dad.

The nursery school head...

she's been fired.

Have you read the papers?

Have you seen what they call us?

"Undesirables". That's what.

What more do you need?

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