Gigi Page #4

. . .at last.

Enough. We must finish lunch

and get on with your lessons.

Now, go on.

Go on, go on!

Without knowledge of jewelry,

my dear Gigi. . .

. . .a woman is lost.

Do you remember Madame Dunard,

who was here the other day?

Did you notice that rope

of black pearls around her throat?

Yes! lt was beautiful.

Dipped.

Dipped. Given to her

by the man she loves. . .

. . .whose love is obviously

beginning to cool. . .

. . .and she doesn't know it.

lt's just a matter of time now.

Now, let us see what you remember.

What is this?

A marquise diamond.

A marquise-shaped diamond.

This?

This is. . .

. . .a topaz?

A topaz?

Among my jewels?

Are you mad?

lt's a yellow diamond

of the first quality.

You'll have to go a long way

to see one like it.

-This?

-An emerald.

How beautiful.

Do you see that blue flame. . .

. . .darting about in the depths

of the green light?

Only the most beautiful emeralds. . .

. . .contain that miracle

of elusive blue.

-Who gave it to you, Aunt?

-A king.

-A great king?

-No, a little one.

Great kings do not

give very large stones.

Why not?

ln my opinion, it's because

they don't feel they have to.

Who does give the valuable jewels?

Who?

Oh, the shy, the proud.

And the social climbers.

They think it's a sign of culture.

But it doesn't matter

who gives them. . .

. . .as long as you never

wear anything second-rate.

Wait for the first-class jewels, Gigi.

Hold on to your ideals.

Come over here to the light, Gigi.

Open your mouth.

With teeth like that. . .

. . .l could have devoured

all Paris and most of Europe.

But l can't complain.

l had a good bite of it.

Tell your grandmama

to get you some astringent lotion.

You don't use face powder, do you?

-Grandmama won't let me.

-l should hope not.

You have an impossible nose,

a nondescript mouth.

Your cheekbones are too high.

But we can do something

with the rest of you.

Your teeth, your eyes. . .

. . .your eyelashes, your hair.

We can. . .

. . .and we will.

You must learn to choose cigars.

Aunt, but l don't smoke cigars.

Of course you don't smoke cigars.

But a man does.

Everything l teach you. . .

. . .has a good reason.

Love, my dear Gigi. . .

. . .is a thing of beauty,

like a work of art.

And like a work of art,

it is created by artists.

The greater the artist,

the greater the art.

And what makes an artist?

Cigars and jewelry?

You are from another planet.

Get on with your work.

A necklace is love

A ring is love

A rock from some obnoxious little king

Is love

A sapphire with a star is love

An ugly black cigar is love

Everything you are is love

You would think it would embarrass

All the people here in Paris

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