For sale. The house looks good. It arises a little there. The park is not bad either with its redwood more than a hundred years old. We are in Louveciennes. Is it the former second home of Pierre Lazareff who invited the Tout-Paris every weekend? Wahou!, Bruno Podalydès' film, doesn't say so. He tells many other things.
Inside, there is woodwork. The agent speaks of "stamp". This professional forgets to specify that the train passes at the end of the garden. These are the tricks of the trade. Potential buyers follow one another. They are not alike. It starts with a group of musicians. They argue in the living room. They are artists. The doors slam. A socialite raves about the slightest piece, hopes to convince her husband. If she calls him, the game is half won. Patatras, the guy is obnoxious, snobbish as a louse, and he rolls out accompanied by an architect who plans to install an elevator in the monumental staircase that is surely classified by...
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