Divine Page #2

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No joke! I've give you a solo to sing!

-Why?

You don't understand. A solo, in

front of the curtain, in a spotlight.

You'll be an immediate triumph.

Your career will begin.

I wasn't hired to sing. I'm not here

to make a career.

Not so fast, little girl.

Let me look at you. Oh the freshness

is still on you!

Leave her alone.

Get out of here.

Artists first, madame, please!

-Cigarette?

-No, they make me thirsty.

-Candy?

Yuck.

I've others.

Come on, kids!

-The milk, that's you?

-Yes, Mme Nicou.

Listen.

-Listen, where's your delivery boy?

-He's sick.

Listen, I don't know who brought

the milk yesterday.

But please ring that new young lady

on the 3rd floor, don't just leave it.

Somebody knocked it over. My clean

steps were flooded.

There's a new young lady on the 3rd

floor? Another artist?

Her an artist? She never goes out,

never has callers, not even a cat.

For me, that's no artist.

Okay, Mme Nicou, I'll ring.

-What is it?

-The milk.

Leave it outside the door.

-What is it?

-I can't leave it.

-Why not?

-The concierge.

The concierge! Oh...

Just the day I wanted to sleep.

I came back late last night.

What is it now?!

If you please, miss, let's agree.

Each morning I'll ring three times,

like this,

I'll give you an empty..., a full, you'll

give me an empty.

This way we won't have trouble.

Understood.

You don't want to open the door

a little wider?

No need. Thanks.

You don't need eggs? We have

fresh-laid eggs.

"Fresh-laid'' eggs, I know what that

means in Paris.

Oh, they really are. At 5 a.m.

That's not what I meant. At 24 sous

they're too expensive.

-24 sous, that depends.

-On what?

-On the wholesale price.

-Well, if they're really fresh...

You can check. Look,

the date is marked.

-Give me my bill.

-There's no hurry, mademoiselle.

-But there is.

-Okay if you insist.

9 days, half-liter per.

-No, a liter, a liter!

-A half-liter.

-And 2 eggs.

-No, once there were 5.

Yes. 7 x 2 = 11 eggs.

-How eleven?

There. 8 francs 85 centimes.

Oh, no hurry! We'll be seeing

each other.

Your delivery boy's still sick?

Yes, Mme Nicou, it's an epidemic.

Watch out! The police are with

the boss.

If I decided to tell the police,

it's because I can't figure it out

myself, right?

In 14 years running this show,

you can imagine what I've seen.

Thefts. Babies. Sudden death!

That's life.

Yes. But when I have to replace 3

artists in 4 days... !

No! That's the limit, it's unheard of!

Come in! What! I don't

want any f***ing interruptions!

Victor sent me to tell you...

Beat it!

Now I learn my theater's a drop for

snow.

Personally I don't give a sh*t. My

artists' private lives aren't my

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