Love in the Afternoon

This is the city. Paris, France.

It is just like any other big city,

London, New York, Tokyo...

...except for two little things.

In Paris, people eat better...

...and in Paris people make love,

well, perhaps not better...

...but certainly more often.

They do it any time, any place.

On the Left Bank...

...on the Right Bank...

...and in between.

They do it by day...

...and they do it by night.

The butcher...

...the baker...

...and the friendly undertaker.

They do it in motion.

They do it sitting absolutely still.

Poodles do it.

Tourists do it.

Generals do it.

Once in a while,

even existentialists do it.

There is young love...

...and old love.

Married love...

...and illicit love.

That is where I come in.

My name is Claude Chavasse.

I am what you would call

"a private eye."

It was Monday, June 11, 6:15 a.m.

I had been working

the nightwatch on the Place Vendme...

...outside the Ritz Hotel.

In order to protect the innocent,

I will call this the case of Madame X.

Of course, she was not

entirely innocent.

While Monsieur X was attending

a business conference in London...

...she was conferring nightly

in Suite 14 of the Ritz.

8:
45 a.m.

I arrived at No.17, rue Mallebranche.

This is where I live, and this

is also where I have my office.

It is a very quiet neighborhood.

My clients prefer it this way.

- Bonjour, Madame.

- Bonjour, Monsieur Chavasse.

It is a neat,

normal life we have here.

There's just myself,

my daughter, and her cello.

- Papa?

- Good morning, Ariane.

Good morning, Papa.

Did you have a hard night?

So-so.

Interesting case?

So-so.

- Tell me about it.

- Never mind.

Why not?

Never mind!

Papa, I'm worried about you.

You've been working every night.

It's my busiest season.

You need a rest.

In my profession,

it's like being a doctor.

I have to be on call

night and day.

A good doctor can never rest,

not until the patient is out of bed.

I'd never thought of it that way.

You shouldn't think of it at all.

How are things at the conservatory?

- So-so. We're rehearsing.

- Rehearsing what?

A symphony. Haydn's 88th.

I always tell you what I'm doing but

you never tell me what you're doing.

That's because I love you.

I want to protect you from these sordid

matters I have to deal with.

- Now go back to your cello.

- Yes, Papa.

Wouldn't you like some breakfast?

Later. I have some work to do

in the darkroom.

I'm expecting a client.

When Mama was alive, I'm sure

you discussed your work with her.

Your mama was a married woman.

I'm so glad.

- Papa, your coffee's getting cold.

- Just a few minutes.

- You can play detective later.

- All right.

- Who's this man?

- Ariane, please!

He's very attractive.

He's very objectionable,

and quite immoral.

- He is?

- And utterly no good.

- What did he do?

- That's enough.

I don't think I've ever seen

his face in the files.

Ariane! Have you been into my files?

No, Papa.

I mean, yes, Papa.

Just a few of them, when I was dusting.

Ariane, you've been told a thousand

times to stay away from those files.

I've been trying, Papa,

but they're so fascinating.

At the conservatory, all the girls envy

me because I have my private library.

Library? This is not a library.

This is a sewer.

How can you say that?

Some of these cases are so romantic.

- I've read them time and time again.

- What cases?

Well, I guess my favorite

one is in file "D."

The Duchess of Devontry

and her Alpine guide.

It's so sad, and so beautiful.

Your father almost had a heart attack

following them up the Matterhorn.

How she must have loved him,

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