Eugenie Page #4

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but not necessarily complete.

My dear ladies, do you mind if I smoke?

Oh, please do.

I don't think smoking is a vice.

My father does it all the time.

One's parents habits

are a dangerous guide

to the difference between vice and virtue.

Oh, is that another quotation from

the works of the Marquise de Sade?

No, I made it up myself.

At least, I think I did.

What's that?

It's just a night bird I expect.

It's getting cold.

Oh, can't you think of

something amusing for us to do?

Let's play games.

Lovely! What shall we play?

You're the hostess.

Well I suggest... charades.

But we're only three people.

It's possible...

let's go into the other room.

Oh no no no,

we'd better stay here.

Remember Eugenie,

you have nothing to fear.

Why should I be afraid?

Oh well,

remember the dream

you had this afternoon?

Maybe you'll dream again tonight.

I hope not.

Ah...

Or do I?

It's very difficult.

What do you think about dreams?

Dreams are only an extension

of our own desires or fears.

Oh...

Smoke?

- Should I?

Oh, now really, dear!

Don't be ridiculous,

of course you should.

This cigarette tastes funny.

They're Turkish... Oriental.

They're sweet, but rather nice.

You haven't told us what,

or how we play it.

In a moment.

Imagine yourself... free of all restraint.

Floating on a cloud...

Observing below you all the foolish

earthbound men and women.

We are your friends, Eugenie.

Disciples, like your host,

of the divine Marquise.

He whose lessons

we have learned so well,

and to whom in homage,

we wear the very costumes of his time.

We are coming to celebrate

your initiation, Eugenie,

into the practises to which

the Marquise gave his name.

We shall be watching you, Eugenie.

Observing, and admiring

your aptitude to learn.

Cruelty, far from being a vice,

is the first sentiment

nature injects in us all.

Cruelty is natural.

Cruelty is simply the energy in man

which civilisation has

not yet altogether corrupted.

Female cruelty is, if anything,

more active than the male.

Announce a cruel

spectacle a burninga battle,

you will see droves of women come running.

But these occasions

are not numerous enough

to feed their fury.

They contain themselves and they suffer,

as you Eugenie, must suffer, too.

Good morning, Eugenie.

Good morning, Augustin.

Good morning, Madame.

Will this wind drop so we

can go out on the boat?

Perhaps.

- I hope so.

Ahhhhh!

What's the matter Eugenie?

Have you had another dream?

Oh. No! This time it wasn't a dream!

They beat me and...

They beat you?

Then where are the marks?

I don't understand.

There... come along.

But what about the man in the

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