BIZE   Lilies, roses. Anybody else I’d say pull your socks up. I hope he is a great man. Making fools of us all if he’s not. How are you, madame? This regime wouldn’t suit everyone.

CÉLESTE   His nights are days, that’s all. You get used to it.

INT. PROUST’S APARTMENT. HALL. DAY.

Céleste helps Bize on with his coat.

Proust comes out in his dressing gown.

BIZE   So. My advice is to stay clear of lilies. Give them a wide berth. No flowers by request. Useless to suggest a more sensible regime.

PROUST   My dear doctor, any regime that we follow counts for less than our temperament. Should I make that more sensible?

BIZE   A little fresh air does no one any harm.

PROUST   On the contrary, a little fresh air is where I came across the lilies.

BIZE   Windows closed. Curtains drawn. And you work like a ploughman. How can you live like this?

PROUST   If I didn’t, I couldn’t work at all. Ask Céleste.

BIZE   Maître.
Bize goes.
Proust closes the door.

PROUST   Like a ploughman, Céleste. I work like a ploughman.
He goes back to his room, while Céleste goes back to the kitchen.
Mix to:

INT. PROUST’S APARTMENT. KITCHEN. DAY.

Céleste sitting, waiting.

The sound of footsteps approaching the service door.

She flies to it, then checks her appearance before opening it.

A little knock.

It’s her husband, Odilon, a stocky man with a moustache.

CÉLESTE   (betraying no excitement) Come in, Odilon.
He comes in, slightly awkwardly in his army uniform, nervous about coming in his big army boots, lest he dirty the floor.
She takes his cap and looks at him.
Suddenly the bell goes.

INT. PROUST’S BEDROOM. DAY.

Proust is looking among his papers on his desk.

Céleste enters the room.

PROUST   There was a concert programme here with an address on it, Céleste. I remember particularly putting it here a week or two ago. You must have moved it.

CÉLESTE   No, monsieur. Here it is, monsieur.

PROUST   Of course. Good.
Proust goes back towards the bed.

PROUST   I shall be going out this evening.

CÉLESTE   Sir.
Céleste goes to the door.

INT. PROUST’S APARTMENT. KITCHEN. DAY.

Odilon is taking off his puttees.

ODILON   No need to tell him I’m here.

CÉLESTE   I must tell him. What if he comes into the kitchen?

ODILON   He never comes into the kitchen.
Odilon draws the curtains.

ODILON   I didn’t come to see monsieur. I’ve only got twenty-four hours.

CÉLESTE   He’d want to see you.

ODILON   If he sees me he’ll want me to drive him somewhere.

CÉLESTE   No. He’ll want to know how the war’s going.

ODILON   I don’t know how the war’s going. I’m a soldier.

CÉLESTE   Odilon –