Marius

- Hey, Marius.

- Yes, Fanny?

- What are you thinking about?

- You, maybe.

Liar.

- You think I never do?

- Only when you see me.

Buy me a coffee.

All right. Father's asleep.

Tell me...

why weren't you at the dance

last night?

There's a dance every Sunday

at the Cascade.

- Do you go?

- Yes.

- You meet nice people.

- Like who?

Andr, Monsieur Bouzique, Victor.

I danced with Victor all evening.

Does he dance

as stupidly as he walks?

You're awful.

Why don't you come?

- I can't dance.

- I could teach you.

I'd rather not.

Where did you go?

I went for a walk, to breathe

the night air on the jetty.

- All alone?

- Yes, but I ran into Monsieur Brun.

- He's back?

- Yesterday.

Why did he go?

To take a course. He went to Paris

a clerk and came back an inspector.

- Inspectors earn a lot of money.

- Monsieur Brun?

They need to, with all those

starched collars they wear.

That's the Saigon.

- How do you know?

- And the Yara's whistle.

What's that?

- That whistle.

- It's the Yara.

Idiot. It's the percolator.

You bought her a coffee?

Want a cup?

Why?

There'll be nothing left

for our customers.

You begrudge me a cup of coffee?

- It's the principle of the thing.

- What principle?

Drinking the profits.

You make me look so small.

Make you look small? How?

What do you take me for?

A son who must obey his father.

At his age?

I was 32 when I felt

my father's boot for the last time.

We knew what love and respect were

in those days.

- And a kick in the pants.

- We didn't answer back.

I can't imagine Mother hitting me.

You'd snivel in a corner.

It's a pity your father isn't here

to whip you into shape.

All our children do

is poison our lives.

Poison your life?

I share the work.

Some sharing.

Never here when you're wanted.

- I'm here all day.

- He's right.

What business is it of yours?

You work the whole time

with such a sad, sorry expression.

Anyone would think

you were a teetotaler.

Maybe I'm neurasthenic.

- Is that catching?

- It just happens.

Don't try to make fun

of your father.

And you go and sell your shellfish.

Leave us alone.

You're a slacker.

Just like your Uncle Emil.

Just dragging his own shadow along

wore him out.

You moon about,

don't know your job.

You don't even know your own job.

You can't make a vermouth

and black currant.

And as for a Picon-Curaao,

forget it.

Yesterday old Cougard

came to complain.

And yet it's easy. Look.

You put one third Curaao.

A very small third, mind you.

A third of lemon.

A good third of Picon.

And then a large third of water.

That's four thirds.

So?

A glass only holds three thirds.

That depends

on the size of the thirds.

- No, it doesn't.

- Why not?

It's arithmetic.

Well, don't try

to change the subject.

And the drip on the bottle.

Is that arithmetic too?

What drip?

The drip you always leave

on the bottle. It's not difficult.

You have to pour it like this.

Twist the bottle

and put the drip back with the cork.

But Master Marius doesn't care,

so it trickles onto the label.

That's why the bottles are easier

to pick up than put down.

- Funny, is it?

- You're laughing too.

If I didn't, I'd cry.

Tomorrow at 9:
00

all hands on deck.

Drumroll!

Leading Seaman Piquoiseau,

I declare you

Chevalier of the Legion of Honor.

Drumroll!

Have you gone crazy?

There's a spy on board.

Admiral Escartefigue,

you're reduced to the ranks.

Put him in irons

till we reach Manila.

Admiral Escartefigue

is reduced to the ranks.

Captain!

- Isn't it time we left, Captain?

- Are there enough people?

- They're signaling like mad on the quay.

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