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Igor is looking at the sea. He lights a cigarette.
"Smoking's bad for your health," she says.
He ignores this remark.
"What, for you, is the meaning of life?" he asks.
"Love."
Olivia smiles. This really is an excellent way to start the day, talking about deeper things than the price of each piece of handiwork or the clothes people are wearing.
"And for you?"
"Yes, love too. But for me it was also important to earn enough money to show my parents that I was capable of succeeding. I did that, and now they're proud of me. I met the perfect woman, we married, and I would like to have had children, to honor and fear God. The children, alas, never came."
Olivia doesn't like to ask why. The man, in his forties, continues in his perfect French:
"We thought of adopting a child. Indeed, we spent two or three years thinking about it, but then life began to get too busy what with business trips and parties, meetings and deals."
"When you sat down here to talk, I thought you were just another eccentric millionaire in search of an adventure, but I'm enjoying talking about these things."
"Do you think about the future?"
"Yes, I do, and I think my dreams are much the same as yours. Obviously, I'd like to have children as well..."
She pauses. She doesn't want to hurt the feelings of this unexpected new companion.
"...if, of course, I can. Sometimes, God has other plans."
He appears not to have heard her answer.
"Do only millionaires come to the Festival?"
"Millionaires and people who think they're millionaires or want to become millionaires. While the Festival is on, this part of the city is like a madhouse. Everyone behaves as if they were terribly important, apart from the people who really are important; they're much politer; they don't need to prove anything to anyone. They don't always buy what I have to sell, but at least they smile, make some pleasant remark, and treat me with respect. What are you doing here?"
"God made the world in six days, but what is the world? It's what you or I see. Whenever someone dies, a part of the universe dies too. Everything a person felt, experienced, and saw dies with them, like tears in the rain."
"'Like tears in the rain'...I saw a film once that used that phrase. I can't remember now what it was."
"I didn't come here to cry. I came to send messages to the woman I love, and in order to do that, I need to destroy a few universes or worlds."
Instead of feeling alarmed by this last statement, Olivia laughs. This handsome, well-dressed man, speaking fluent French, doesn't seem like a madman at all. She was fed up with always hearing the same things: you're very pretty, you could be doing better for yourself, how much is this, how much is that, it's awfully expensive, I'll go away and think about it and come back later (which they never do, of course), etc. At least this Russian has a sense of humor.
"Why do you need to destroy the world?"
"So that I can rebuild my own world."
Olivia would like to try and console him, but she's afraid of hearing the famous words: "I think you could give meaning to my life," at which point the conversation would come to an abrupt halt because she has other plans for her future. Besides, it would be absurd on her part to try and teach someone older and more successful how to overcome his difficulties.
One way out would be to learn more about his life. After all, he's paid her--and paid her well--for her time.
"How do you intend to do that?"
"Do you know anything about frogs?"
"Frogs?"
"Yes, various biological studies have shown that if a frog is placed in a container along with water from its own pond, it will remain there, utterly still, while the water is slowly heated up. The frog doesn't react to the gradual increase in temperature, to the changes in its environment, and when the water reaches the boiling point, the frog dies, fat and happy.
