Mr. Moustafa:
I admire your work.
Young Writer:
I beg your pardon?
Mr. Moustafa:
I said, I know and admire your wonderful work.
Young Writer:
Thank you most kindly, sir.
Mr. Moustafa:
Did M. Jean have a word or two to share with you about the aged proprietor of this establishment?
Young Writer:
I must confess, sir, I did, myself, inquire about you.
Mr. Moustafa:
He's perfectly capable, of course, M. Jean, but we can't claim he's a first or, in earnest, even second-rate concierge. But there it is. Times have changed.
Young Writer:
The thermal baths are very beautiful.
Mr. Moustafa:
They were, in their first condition. It couldn't be maintained, of course. Too decadent for current tastes, but I love it all, just the same. This enchanting, old ruin.
Young Writer:
How did you come to buy it, if I may ask? The Grand Budapest.
Mr. Moustafa:
I didn't.
Mr. Moustafa:
If you're not merely being polite, and you must tell me if that's the case, but if it genuinely does interest you: may I invite you to dine with me tonight, and it will be my pleasure and, indeed, my privilege to tell you, "my" story. Such as it is.
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05/03/2025 alle ore 09:34
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