- Sarah Morton: I pity your mother.
- Julie: You pity her? Why?
- Sarah Morton: Well, I imagine having a daughter who comes home with a different man every night must be difficult for a mother.
- Julie: Well, you imagine wrong. You know what? You're just a frustrated Englishwoman who writes about dirty things but never does them. You can shove your uptight morals up your ass!
- Sarah Morton: When someone keeps an entire part of their life secret from you, it's fascinating and frightening.
- Julie: [in French; subtitled] AHH! You scared me!
- Sarah Morton: [in French] Who are you? What are you doing in my house?
- Julie: [in French] Your house? This is my house! I should be asking you.
- [short pause; now speaking English]
- Julie: Are you English?
- Sarah Morton: [in English] That's correct. I'm Sarah Morton, I'm a writer and my publisher, John Bosload, is letting me have this house.
- Julie: Ah, so you're Daddy's latest conquest.
- Sarah Morton: You're his daughter?
- Julie: So what? He didn't say I was coming?
- Sarah Morton: No, he didn't tell me you were coming.
- Julie: I'm not surprised. Is he here?
- Sarah Morton: No, I'm here on my own and I'm here to work, and not expecting visitors.
- Julie: [lights a cigarette] So he's not here.
- Sarah Morton: Are you going to be staying long?
- Julie: I don't know. I don't have much work these days. So, which bedroom did you take?
- Sarah Morton: The one upstairs overlooking the pool.
- Julie: Of course. That's the best one. Well, I better unpack.
- Julie: [sauntering over to Sarah's lounge chair, bikini bottom without the top, long legs, bare breasts, charming raw European accent] You not too hot?
- [the older woman wakes up, startled]
- Julie: Sorry I woke you up.
- Sarah Morton: [composing herself] No.
- [sitting up]
- Sarah Morton: I was just dozing.
- Julie: [soft laugh, casually sitting down flat next to Sarah's deck chair, not at all mindful of her lack of dress] You must be working too hard. You should take a swim in the pool. The water is cold. It will wake you up.
- Sarah Morton: Ah, well, thank you for your advice, but I absolutely loathe swimming pools.
- Julie: Yeah, I know what you mean. I prefer the sea too. The ocean,
- [smiling fondly]
- Julie: the crashing waves, that feeling of danger that you could loose footing and be swept away... Pools are boring, there's no excitement, its just a big bathtub.
- Sarah Morton: [coldly summing up] It's more like a cesspool of living bacteria.
- Julie: [looking back, clearly more optimistic about life] Oh that? No, it's just a bit of dirt and leaves.
- [Sarah nods, unconvinced, set in her ways]
- Julie: So, what are you writing? A romance novel?
- Sarah Morton: [smirks at the very thought] God, no, I write crime fiction.
- Julie: Oh, yeah.
- [disapprovingly:]
- Julie: That's how he makes his money.
- Sarah Morton: [haughtily] And that's how he can afford to buy a beautiful house in France for his daughter to enjoy.
- Julie: [slight frown, reminded of her status as Daddy's girl] What about you? Are your books selling well?
- Sarah Morton: [grimly] I can't complain.
- Julie: [chummily] What is this one about?
- Sarah Morton: [as if to quell her enthusiasm by pouring cold water over her] Murders. And the police investigation.
- Julie: [giggling] In the Luberon? With rich English stories?
- Sarah Morton: [her impatience now all-out] Listen, if you don't mind, I do have work to do.
- Julie: Okay! I leave you alone, Miss Marple. I need to make some phone calls anyway.
- [walks off, her wedge heels clattering, leaving Sarah to the emptiness of her departure]