Françoise H. knew ’em all, and among her countless duet partners also was Patrick Dewaere, probably the most gifted French actor of his generation – see Blier’s Les Valseuses, Corneau’s Série Noire, or certainly Granier-Deferre’s Adieu Poulet. Still a legend today, though virtually unknown outside of France, Dewaere called it quits on July 16, 1982, after a phone call from his wife Elsa who had run away to Guadeloupe with his best friend Coluche; the tragi-cynical dénouement being that Dewaere shot himself with a calibre .22 rifle that he had received as a gift from Coluche not long before. When Hardy heard of his suicide, she doubtless recalled the moment when she had seen Dewaere – a nobody then – perform a decade ago at the famous Café de la Gare, where she had also asked him if he had a song for her. In 1971, they recorded T’es pas poli (You’re Not Polite). It’s not a very good song, but a charming one, and among all those interchangeable daughter-in-law schlager ditties in Hardy’s œuvre a different, peculiarly private and precious moment.