Religiosa Portuguesa, A Page #4

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There's our hotel.

Yes, I see.

And yet, nothing is clear at all.

Would you like one last drink?

The hotel bar has a wonderful view.

What do you see?

Among other things, this garden.

It'll be like passing through

the looking glass.

Yes.

Let's go.

I'm sorry.

Why?

You surely misunderstood

my gesture.

I think I understood it very well.

It was very selfish of me.

Why?

It's true that Marlene and I

are happy together.

That's good.

But maybe for it to continue,

I need an occasional moment

of passion outside.

A brief passion?

Yes.

If something were to happen

between us,

it would be brief.

That's why I feel selfish.

My passions have all been brief.

If sleeping with me would help you,

I'd feel like

I'd be doing a good deed.

So it would be selfish of me, too.

Let's accept our common selfishness.

Shall we go to your room or mine?

Let's go to mine.

It'll be like playing

The Portuguese Nun again.

Come in.

Today I shoot my solo scenes.

Then I'll catch the plane to Paris.

I finish shooting tomorrow,

and go home the day after.

Here's my card.

If you ever want to meet for a drink,

it would be a pleasure.

I hope you're not sad.

I told you last night...

I'm happy.

When you said it,

we were together.

Now we're parting.

I'm in the habit of separating.

Is there no way

to change one's habits?

I already have.

Usually when I leave someone,

I'm sad.

This morning I'm happy.

SISTER JOANA:

Madam, I didn't know if you'd come.

I always keep my word.

Madalena is at home.

I told her about you.

Come.

This is the French lady.

This is Madalena.

Please come in, Madam.

Do you understand Portuguese?

Madam speaks Portuguese very well.

May I offer you a coffee?

You're very kind.

Madam is an actress.

Really?

Yes. I'm in Lisbon for a few days.

Where do you live?

In Paris.

How did you meet Vasco?

We met outside, in the square.

I was surprised he wasn't in school.

Vasco, go play outside.

See you later.

When Vasco was born, just nearby,

his mother was sixteen.

She left home immediately afterwards.

Who is his father?

Nobody knows.

Are you a relative?

No.

My mother was a childhood friend

of his grandmother,

who cared for him after he was born.

His mother never returned?

No.

When Vasco was two, we learned

she'd killed herself, in Porto.

His grandmother died a year ago.

The boy had no one.

My mother considered

his grandmother as her sister,

so I took him in.

But it's impossible.

We already have three children.

My husband works in Paris,

in construction.

Four days a week I clean houses.

I don't want to shut Vasco inside,

so I let him play outdoors.

That shocks you.

Why don't you put him school?

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