Madame D.:
Come with me.
M. Gustave:
To... fucking Lutz?
Madame D.:
Please!
M. Gustave:
Give me your hand. You've nothing to fear. You're always anxious before you travel. I admit you appear to be suffering a more acute attack on this occasion, but truly and honestly... oh, dear God, what have you done to your fingernails?
Madame D.:
I beg your pardon?
M. Gustave:
This diabolical varnish; the color is completely wrong!
Madame D.:
Oh really? Don't you like it?
M. Gustave:
It's not that I don't like it; I am physically repulsed.
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 07:41
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