Leçon 11 -- Text -- Meetings - I


The 29th of May. Today, the two principal characters




of this fascinating story are perhaps going to meet each other.




It's a beautiful spring day, obviously.




There is a student strike, obviously.




Mireille has been studying at the Sorbonne for a year.




She is doing studies of art history.




At this moment, she has just left the Institute of Art and Archeology,




and she is resting on a chair in the Luxembourg Garden.




Robert has been in Paris since the day before.




At this moment, it is ten o'clock in the morning.




He is leaving his hotel, and he is going to explore the Latin Quarter.




A young man is walking in the Luxembourg Garden. He looks bored.




He notices a very pretty red skirt on a green chair. He approaches.




The young girl who is wearing the red skirt pretends not to see him.




She raises her eyes. They are very blue.




Her glance loses itself in the contemplation of the sky, which is very blue also.




What beautiful weather. What a sky. Not a cloud.




Not a cirrus. Not a nimbus. Not a stratus. Not a cumulus.




The weather is really beautiful. Don't you think so. (Don't you find.)




A little cool, perhaps. No?




Anyway, it's not really cold. No, I'm not saying that.




But it's less warm (hot) than yesterday.




You come here often?




Me, I like the Luxembourg a lot, even when the weather is bad.




Even in the winter, under the snow ...




in spring, when the chestnut trees are in flower ...




in summer, when it's so pleasant, in the shade, near the Medicis fountain ...




in autumn, when one gathers up the dead leaves with a shovel.




Do you think I'm stupid. (Do you find me stupid)?




You aren't talkative. I like that a lot.




I don't like girls who talk too much.




I'm not bothering you?




You have a very pretty red skirt.




Hey! I'm going to tell you where it comes from.




I'm never wrong. ... So, these buttons, this pocket ... they (that) comes from Dior.




No? So, they come from Lanvin? From Saint-Laurent? From Cardin?




From Courrèges? From Givenchy?




Prisunic. I always get my clothes (dress myself) at Prisunic.




It is ravishing anyway. Euh, permit me to present myself.




My name is Jean-Pierre, Jean-Pierre Bourdon.




Mireille gets up (raises herself) and leaves.