That's all I ever get from you,
a lot of hard-luck stories.
I'll give you an assignment.
It'll be your last interview
with the cashier.
Stew Smith!
Mr Conroy, give me a crack
at that Schuyler story.
If you ever got into a drawing room,
you'd step on a sliding rug.
Stew's the only man
got brains enough for this.
- Scram! Did you find Stew?
- Not yet.
- Did you look in the?
- First place I looked.
For crying out loud, where is that guy?
Go and dig him up. Stew Smith!
There it is.
Pray for me, Gallagher.
- Hold everything.
- Stew, your hands are shaking.
- You've been drinking again.
- Here they come.
- Stew Smith!
- Here they come.
- The boss is getting hoarse.
- That's the third one.
If I don't make that last one, a sob sister
I know's gonna get a kick... Almost.
Stew Smith!
What? The screen?
Here they come. Gallagher! I made it!
Come over here.
- Look, I quit.
- Yeah?
You're always picking on me.
Three hours to get those gadgets
in those holes,
and you screw it up
in a minute. Look.
Not as easy as it looks, is it?
No wonder you're batty.
Would it be imposing
if I asked you to do a little work?
Just to sort of break the monotony?
- With me, you can always do business.
- Know what to do in a drawing room?
It's knowing how to get in one
that counts.
OK.
Listen, we've got a tip.
The Schuyler family have finally
made a deal with that chorus dame.
- Gloria Golden?
- Yeah, little Gloria.
The human cash register.
Got her hooks into the Schuyler kid?
- Right for the first time this year.
- It's only April.
- Get going.
- Where?
I could write that
without leaving the office.
And get us into a million-dollar libel suit.
It wouldn't be the first time.
Get a statement out of the old lady,
the sister or the kid.
Any of them, but get it.
- Give me a voucher for the expenses.
- What expenses?
All you need is carfare to Long Island.
And get a shave and a shine.
You're gonna have a tough time
getting in there as it is.
I know those blue-noses. Their ancestors
refused to come on the Mayflower.
They didn't want
to rub elbows with tourists.
So they swam over.
Dexter Grayson, if you're a lawyer,
get those letters back.
I keep telling you
how difficult it is, Mrs Schuyler.
The last time I asked her, she made
very uncouth noises with her mouth.
I don't know why you're making
all this fuss. I only sent six.
Why didn't you tell it to her
instead of writing?
- I couldn't get her on the phone.
- Imbecile!
You should have known better
than to write, Romeo.
- I found that out a long time ago.
- I should say.
At this rate, we'll have to leave
the country to save our faces.
Splendid, Mother.
Let's hop over to Monte Carlo.
- It's a great place to save a face.
- Oh, shut up.
- What is it, Smythe?
- Pardon me, madam.
But what am I to say
to the newspapermen?
Dexter, go out and tell those ruffians
I have nothing to say.
You can't do that. Leave it to me.
I know how to handle reporters.
All right, then. Get it over with.
We've decided to see the reporters.
The man from the Tribune first.
- Very good.
- Smythe.
Some bicarbonate of soda.
Double-strength.
I know those newsmongers
will upset me.
I anticipated it, madam.
The bicarbonate is ready.
Hey, Bingy, you'll find the silverware
in the dining room.
Much obliged.
Mr Grayson has decided to see you.
- The gentleman from the Tribune first.
- There are no gentlemen on the Tribune.
I understand, sir.
Hey, take it easy.
Listen, no use you hanging around here.
Read the Tribune, rewrite it
and use it for your last edition.
Never make it. It'd take me four hours
to translate your story into English.
- Is that so?
- I'm afraid.
Take off your hat.
You might make an impression.
Impossible. Put it on again.
Make up your mind, will you?
Hi, folks.
Ain't there a "bless you"
in the crowd?
- You're the Tribune man?
- Yeah. Hello, how are you?
Fine. Have a seat.
Thanks, I will.
This way.
Oh, boy.
- Fine newspaper, the Tribune.
- I should say.
- I knew your managing editor well.
- Is that so?
Yale. '21, I believe.
We were classmates.
She got a cold?
I got him his job on the paper.
I'm a stockholder.
Is that so?
- One Tribune man to another.
- Yeah.
Right now I'm acting in the capacity
of Mrs Schuyler's attorney.
I won't hold that against you.
- But I'm over here to find out about...
- I know.
But there's no truth
in the story whatsoever.
Oh, yeah?
However, I've taken the trouble
to prepare a little statement.
Here it is. Here.
So, you see how silly that rumour is.
Why, sure. It's all a lot of hooey.
That's what I wanted to say,
but I couldn't think of it.
- Thank you very much.
- Don't mention it.
Give my regards to your managing editor.
I certainly will.
Well, so long, folks.
Bless you.
- Bless you.
- Thanks.
- So long.
- Bring in the other reporter.
Yes, sir.
Schuyler's the name, I presume?
Yes, thank you.
My name's Smith, Stewart Smith.
No relation to John, Joe,
Trade or Mark.
Of course, you can't have everything.
Nice set of Conrads you have there,
Mrs Schuyler.
I was just glancing through this one.
- What's Michael tearing the paper for?
- Just a habit.
Mr Schuyler's a bit put out
by all these rumours.
Rumours? Since when is
a breach-of-promise case a rumour?
No breach-of-promise case
has been filed.
- It has been settled out of court.
- I see.
Gloria isn't exactly satisfied
with the $20,000.
Dexter Grayson, you told me
it was only 10,000!
And you didn't even get those letters
from that Jezebel.
So, you did give her $10,000!
And there are letters.
That takes it out of the rumour class.
We admit nothing.
However, I've a little statement
all prepared.
- A statement? Good.
- I have it right here.
50 bucks, huh?
Don't you know you should never offer
a newspaperman more than $2?
If you do, he'll think it's counterfeit.
I don't need $50.
As a matter of fact, I've got $50.
The man from the Tribune
seemed satisfied.
Bingy? Bingy would.
He never saw $50 before.
You could have bought him for six bits.
Funny thing about Bingy,
the more he gets, the more he prints.
He looks stupid, doesn't he?
But, oh, how smart he gets
when he bends over a typewriter.
So ten grand was the amount
you gave the gal?
Any other statement
you folks would like to make?
- We have nothing more to say.
- Don't get excited.
Nothing to worry about.
A little publicity never hurt anybody.
Dexter, have this person
leave immediately.
- I think you'd better go.
- Go, huh? Wait a minute.
That's a great story:
"Newspaper reporter was forcibly
ejected from the Schuyler mansion..."
Wait a minute.
Don't mind Mother.
- I don't mind her if you don't.
- Anne?
I'm sure you're quite willing
to be decent about this.
Decent? Why, Miss Schuyler,
I want to be noble.
You're not going to print this silly thing?
No? Why not?
Because my name's Schuyler, too,
and I haven't done a thing.
But I'll have to suffer with Michael,
and so will Mother.
Mother's suffering already.
As a special favour to me,
you won't print that story, will you?
Please?
Lady, if you sold life insurance,
I'd go for a policy in 60 seconds.
Thank you. I knew you'd understand.
- May I use your telephone?
- Certainly. Right over there.
You're all right.
Hello? Beekman 1300.
That's an unlucky number.
You know that, don't you?
Hello? Hello, toots. Is Conroy in?
Let me have Conroy.
He isn't? Try the washroom, will you?
Say, I interviewed a swell guy
the other day. Einstein.
Swell guy. A little eccentric, but a swell...
Doesn't wear any garters.
Neither do I, as a matter of fact.
What good are garters?
Hello. Conroy, this is Smith talking.
I'm up at the Schuylers.
No, I'm not having tea.
That is, not yet.
Is she beautiful?
Boss, her pictures
don't do her justice.
If I were that guy, Ziegfeld, I... Yeah?
Yes, you can see
where her beauty comes from.
From her mother.
Wait a minute. Keep your shirt on.
I'll come to that in a minute.
The Schuylers admit
the story is true. Right.
They gave the gal 10,000 bucks.
But she's got some letters,
and she's holding out for more dough.
It looks to me like she's going to get it.
Right, boss. I'll be right over.
No, I don't think I can
get any pictures now. All right.
I've met some rotters in my time,
but you're the lowest excuse for a man
I've ever had the misfortune to meet.
Well, if you feel that way about it,
here's your nickel for the phone call.
How are you? Come right in.
- How are you?
- Fine.
Then she walked up to me,
put her hand on my shoulder and said,
"Mr Smith, you wouldn't print
that story, would you?"
No, I wouldn't print it. Read it.
You're going to be poison
to that Junior Leaguer.
I should hope not.
I've got to call on her this morning.
- You what?
- Sure.
I must drop in and see the wench.
Her wounds need soothing.
For heaven's sake,
are you completely bats? What for?
I thought that story was cold.
Sure, the story's cold, but I'm not.
I'm sizzling. Look.
- Came the dawn, came the dawn.
- And with it came love.
You've got to meet her. She's it.
- And that.
- And those and them.
I've seen her pictures.
I don't think she's so hot.
You don't appreciate her. Pictures
don't do her justice. She's queenly.
She is queenly, and I know queens.
And has she got herself a nose!
And I know noses, too.
That little schnozzle of hers
is the berries, I tell you.
And is it cute when she throws that
little schnozzle to the high heavens!
- Of course, I haven't got a nose.
- Sure, you got a nose.
But that's different. Women are different.
Like brewery horses and thoroughbreds.
I wouldn't be too hard on her.
I wouldn't call her a brewery horse.
She's the real McCoy.
And the rest of us are truck horses.
There you go, talking like a woman.
- Well?
- You're my pal, aren't you?
Then don't turn female on me.
Pay that check, will you?
I'll give it back to you sometime... maybe.
I go. I go with Conrad
in quest of my youth.
Fry those tomatoes, will you?
Now, Jeeves, was that nice?
Was that being a gentleman, Jeeves?
Your name is Jeeves, isn't it?
- The name is Smythe.
- Smythe? Well, well, well.
With a "y", huh? Congratulations.
What a small world.
Brothers under livery.
- As Smith to Smythe...
- Mrs Schuyler is not at home.
I know. I waited outside
until she went out.
She's a nice lady, she's all right,
but we don't vibrate well together.
No one's at home, sir.
- Would you call this no one?
- What's wrong?
Mrs Schuyler left orders
that if this person came again,
I was to call the police.
Good idea. Telephone the police.
The number is Spring 3100.
Get some cops over
and we'll play bridge.
- You may go, Smythe.
- Now, the lady said you may go.
What do you want?
Yesterday I had one of your books.
When I got outside,
I realised I still had your book.
I thought I might as well
take it home and read it.
This morning I put your book in my hand,
and here's your book in your hand.
- That's considerate.
- I recommend you read that.
I'm not interested
in your literary recommendations.
Perhaps it would be too heavy for you.
If you like something lighter, something
with a touch of romance, listen to this.
"Adorable Babykins,
does her miss her baby?
"Him sends his booful little sweetums
a billion oceans full of kisses.
- "Bobo is so lonely."
- Just a moment.
I don't see how that trash
can possibly concern me.
But you don't know who Bobo is.
And who Babykins is.
I'm not interested.
Smythe will open the door.
Smythe will open...
But Bobo is your brother Michael.
And, of course, nobody would
ever guess who Babykins is.
Where did you get those letters?
I stole them when I was interviewing
Babykins about Bobo.
I suppose you're going to print them.
No. Give you another guess.
I don't need another guess.
- It's quite obvious.
- It's obvious, huh?
Will you step into the library?
Sure. I'll take a chance.
The Indians used to walk like this,
except the squaw
always walked in the back.
You know why that was? That was
in case of an attack from the front.
If the attack was from the rear,
she had to depend upon her papoose.
Yes, papooses always had
bows and arrows.
Of course, if she wasn't married,
then she had to protect her own...
What country is this library in?
How about carfare
back to the front door?
- What are the initials, Mr?
- Smith, Stewart Smith.
My friends all call me Stew.
It's an injustice, too,
'cause I hold my liquor all right.
Will 5,000 be enough?
- For what?
- For the letters, of course.
You shouldn't do that, Miss Schuyler.
That's all right for your lawyer friend,
but you shouldn't go around
thinking you can buy people.
There are your letters.
I don't know how to thank you.
Mother'll be so grateful,
she'll want to kiss you.
Your mother will want to kiss me?
Give me back my letters.
That's the breaks I get. It's the mothers
that are always grateful to me.
You're a peculiar person.
The other day, I pleaded with you
not to send in that story...
But that was news. This is blackmail,
and I don't like blackmail.
I won't even pretend
you haven't done me a great favour.
I wish there was something
I could do for you.
Well, you could make this table
a little less wide.
There is something you can
do for me, Miss Schuyler.
I haven't had any lunch.
Got anything in the icebox?
You fool!
After years of research,
I finally discovered
that I was the only guy in the world...
...who hadn't written a play.
So, believe it or not, in my spare time,
I'm now writing a play.
- Really?
- I haven't figured out the plot yet.
But it's laid in a Siberian village.
You're a bit eccentric, aren't you?
Me?
Most ordinary guy in the world, me.
Only one thing wrong with me.
You don't wear garters.
No, that's just a symbol
of my independence.
I know what's wrong. I'm colour-blind.
That's what's wrong. I'm colour-blind.
I've been sitting here
for a half-hour looking at you,
and I don't know yet whether
your eyes are blue or violet.
I'm just beginning to believe that
something could be done with you.
You could do anything with me
you wanted to.
Putty. Just putty, that's me.
But getting back
to those eyes of yours,
would you mind if I kind of got closer
so I could see 'em?
Not if you're gonna lose
any sleep about it.
Now, how would you like them?
Open like this?
Close them both.
Something tells me I'd better leave.
That's an excellent idea.
- Hello, Mother.
- Hello, Mrs Schuyler. Come right in.
- Will you have a slug of tea?
- What is this person doing here?
I was just trying to decide
the colour of Anne's eyes.
I can't tell whether they're blue or violet.
- What would you say?
- Don't say it, Mother. Please.
Mr Smith came here
to do us a great favour.
Indeed? Perhaps he will do me
a great favour.
- With pleasure.
- Get out of here.
- Mother.
- It's all right, Anne.
I can take a hint.
It's a little subtle, but I get it.
Please go. I'll explain to Mother.
The caviar was lovely, madam.
You must come over
and see us sometime.
- Where were you yesterday?
- Stew and I went for a long ride.
Is there any finishing school
we could send him to?
Yes, Sing Sing.
He's going to be a different person
when I get through with him.
- Get through with him?
- It'll be an interesting experiment.
- To make a gentleman out of a tramp?
- Exactly.
Remember how much it cost
to get rid of that baseball player.
This one's different. He has brains.
- But what about me, Anne?
- You? Don't go serious on me.
Hello, Natalie.
Miss Montgomery, Mr Stewart Smith.
- Mrs Eames, Mrs and Mr Radcliff.
- How do you do?
Who's Anne's new boyfriend?
If my ears don't deceive me,
his name is Smith.
He can't be one of the brothers.
He hasn't a beard on.
He must have something
for Anne to have her clutches on him.
Anne, pinch me, will you?
Throw me out of here. Give me the air.
Why should I? Haven't we been happy?
I know, but you should throw me out,
because I begin to get goofy ideas,
and they concern you, Anne.
None of your ideas could be goofy,
Stewart, if they concern me.
My name is Smith.
That you seem to have been able
to stand for the last month.
I'm white, male and over 21.
I've never been in jail. That is, not often.
And I prefer Scotch to bourbon.
I hate carrots. I hate peas.
I like black coffee and I hate garters.
I make 75 bucks a week,
and I got 847 bucks in the bank.
And I don't know yet
whether your eyes are blue or violet.
That's because you're too far away.
All right.
Yeah, sure. I got a new dress.
New hat, too.
Well, I'll try and get Stew
to come with me.
He's all right.
He thinks he's stuck on some society gal.
No, it won't last. It better not last.
What? I'll be surprised, eh?
Well, listen, if there's any news
in that sheet...
...that I haven't thrown
in the wastepaper basket, I'll eat it.
Hey, Stew. Stew Smith!
- Me?
- Double-crossing hound! Come here!
If you're gonna kick
about those expenses...
- Do you call yourself a reporter?
- It has been alleged, yes.
You wouldn't know news
if you fell into a mess of it.
- So you've never been scooped?
- Not on my own beat, no.
Where were you when that happened?
I've heard of people being scooped
on their own funerals, but this?
Holy mackerel!
It's news when Anne Schuyler
gets her fingernails manicured.
But this...
Marries one of our own reporters,
and the Tribune beats us to it.
What do you guys want? Get back
to your desks. Go back to work.
Don't tell me you were drunk
and don't remember.
- Or is it one of Bingy's snowstorms?
- It's true all right.
- Only we didn't want it to get in print.
- Why not?
I've acquired a new mother-in-law.
She wouldn't understand, so we were
going to wait until she went to Europe.
What would I care?
You're still working for this paper.
Or are you?
It's your business to get news.
You have a story in your lap
and you let the Tribune scoop us,
making a first-class,
grade-A monkey out of me.
If it ever happens again, don't bother
about coming back. That's all.
Thanks for your congratulations.
- How much is she really worth?
- Is she good-looking?
Can't a guy get married
without all this?
Anybody seen Gallagher?
Hello, Stew.
I fooled you.
You thought it was me.
- Hi, Stew.
- Hi, Joe.
Hello, Stew. Congratulations!
- Have a drink on the house.
- Why, I'm gonna have a lot of drinks.
Wait a minute. Excuse me.
I'll be right back.
Well, Gallagher, old pal. There you are.
What did you run away for?
- I didn't run away.
- You ran away.
- Aren't you going to congratulate me?
- Sure.
- I wish you all the luck in the world.
- Thanks.
- I hope you'll be very happy.
- We'll be happy.
- What's the matter with your eyes?
- Smoke.
Joe, a little snifter.
Say, was I a lucky guy
to fall into a girl like that?
What have you got?
I don't know how I rate that.
Gosh, that is a swell girl.
I want you to meet her.
Me? She wouldn't want to meet me.
I'm just an old load of hay.
Thank you.
We'll have a party at your house,
a spaghetti party.
- Haven't had one in a long time.
- Not since you broke into society.
Remember the time I was serving
spaghetti and dropped it on the floor?
When those mugs weren't looking,
I served it to 'em anyway.
Anne would love that.
Your wife would walk up three flights
to eat from paper plates?
Anne? Oh, sure. Anne would love that.
Remember, she's a Schuyler.
Now, get this. Smith, that's the name.
My error.
Hello, chief.
Just because I'm married,
no reason for that.
Lxnay, the ossbay.
Well, what's the Benedick looking for
in the newspaper, his lost freedom?
Well, if it isn't old Fagin himself.
Gallagher and myself came over
to do a little work on a story.
Baloney. Joe, bring me a special.
- Isn't it swell about Stew's marriage?
- Is it?
Well, when are you quitting?
Quitting? I'm not thinking of quitting.
I take it you don't have to work
for a living any more, Mr Schuyler.
Now, get this, Conroy. My name's Smith.
Always was Smith.
Always gonna be Smith.
- Is that so?
- That's so.
Anne Schuyler's in the Blue Book. You're
not even in the phone book, sucker.
That doesn't make any difference,
if they love each other.
He's like a giraffe marrying a monkey.
You'll never be anything...
...but just the reporter
that married the Schuylers' millions.
Stew Smith is dead and buried.
From now on, you'll be just
Anne Schuyler's husband.
A rich wife's magnolia.
Smoke that without getting sick.
- That's ridiculous.
- Let me do the talking. Get this.
Anne Schuyler has got a lot of dough,
all right. I married her, all right.
But her dough and me? No connection.
- Just a bird in a gilded cage.
- A what?
You heard me. A bird in a gilded cage.
You've been reading
a lot of cheap tabloids.
Anne and myself are gonna
move downtown in a little flat.
We're gonna forget this social stuff and
be known as Mr and Mrs Stew Smith.
- And live on your salary, I suppose.
- Live on my salary.
- Until I finish writing my play.
- What play?
- My play.
- About the Siberian bloodhound?
Siberian bloodhound?
No, it's been all rewritten.
- It's laid in Araby now.
- Araby?
- Sure.
- Araby, my...
Well, I'm sorry to see
a good reporter go blooey.
- Let me know when you're quitting.
- I'm not.
For he's only a bird in a gilded cage
A beautiful sight to see
Tweet-tweet!
Go on, laugh, you hyena.
- Don't pay attention to him.
- I ain't paying no attention to him.
You think that guy can get me upset?
Not that mug.
He's a tough mug. Hard, cynical.
He doesn't know
there's any fine things in life.
A guy can't step out without being called
a magnolia. Stew Smith, a magnolia!
Stew Smith is not gonna hang around
and be any speakeasy rat. Not me.
I'm gonna step out and mean
something in this world. Watch me.
I'm a lucky guy that I can
even be near Anne Schuyler.
I've been hit with a carload
of horseshoes and I know it.
Lucky. I'll say I'm lucky.
Don't you think I'm lucky?
- Sure, I think so.
- Sure you would, pal.
A bird in a gilded cage?
- How's her family gonna feel about it?
- Her family?
They'll be all right.
I'll bring them around. Gilded cage...
Besides, I ain't marrying her family.
Stew Smith, ha! Gilded cage.
That mug. What does he know?
- I don't know what you need me for.
- Stay right here.
Someday you'll be head of this family.
Thank heaven I shan't be here.
I hope you never have a daughter
who gives you gastritis.
- There's no use in getting excited.
- Oh, isn't there? Sit down.
- Smythe, some bicarbonate, quick.
- Double-strength.
Keep this up, you'll have a breakdown
before you go to Europe.
It's a good thing
your father passed away...
...before he saw insanity
ravage the family.
I can't imagine what made you do
such a thing. Of all things, a reporter!
A barbarian who lets
his socks come down.
I promise you that he won't be
a reporter much longer.
Once he's away from that atmosphere
and a man named Gallagher.
Sit down.
Drink hearty, Mother.
Anne.
Mr Grayson.
And you. Mrs Schuyler.
Well, what's to be done? He's here now.
Nobody seems to want to do anything.
Why not ask me?
Perhaps I can offer a suggestion.
- Do what about what?
- About what? Your marriage to Anne.
Oh, my marriage to Anne. We don't
want you to go to any trouble about that.
We just want the usual blessings,
that's all.
Young man, I want you to know that
I object violently to this whole affair.
Mother, your attitude's
perfectly ridiculous.
It's done now.
Stewart and I are married.
I'm afraid she's right, Mrs Schuyler.
I'm really very sorry
that you feel this way.
I was in hopes
that you would like me.
I'm not the burglar that you think I am.
We're married. The thing to do
is to kiss and make up, Mother.
- Stop calling me "Mother"!
- All right, Grandma.
This man's impossible. I can't talk to him.
Grayson, let's go where we can think.
You see what you've done to me?
Got it too?
Who won that round?
Your mother won that round.
That is, she got the last blow in.
I don't feel the way they do.
You're not as bad as everybody thinks.
Well, beginning to appreciate me, huh?
- Come upstairs. I'll give you a little...
- Sure, I'll be right up.
- He's all right. I like him.
- I'm glad.
He can bend.
Come here, baby.
I haven't seen you for three hours.
You're neglecting me already.
What's the matter?
Something I ate, no doubt.
Egg marks the spot.
You ought to get some new ties.
I don't need any new ties.
I've got another tie.
I've got another one besides this one.
It's a pip, too.
There's only one thing wrong with it.
Know what?
It has a little weakness for gravy,
and, once in a while,
it leans toward ketchup.
That's only in its weaker moments.
When you move to my place,
I'll show it to you.
- Your place?
- Yeah.
It's great. Of course, it doesn't compare
with this coliseum of yours.
But 'twill serve, milady, 'twill serve.
The architecture has a little feeling
of Missouri Gothic,
and the furniture sort of leans
toward Oklahoma Renaissance,
with a tiny touch of Grand Rapids.
Don't you think it's silly to think of living
there when we have this big house?
When we have...
You mean you'd like to have me
live here in your house?
We can have the whole left wing
and be by ourselves all the time.
We could have the whole left wing?
Would that be room enough for us?
Oh, darling, of course.
There are six rooms and two baths.
If that isn't enough,
Mother'll give us the blue room.
Mother would give us the blue room?
You haven't a red room?
Well, bless her heart.
Wouldn't that be nice?
Six rooms and two baths
and a blue room.
She would let us have
the right wing if we needed it?
- But we don't need it, I'm sure.
- We won't need that. Plenty of room.
Look, Anne. You're not serious
about this, are you?
Of course I am.
- Let's get this settled.
- You have the cutest nose...
Never mind my nose.
What kind of a chump do you think I am,
to live in your house, on your dough?
What do you think my friends
would all say? Don't be silly.
I'd get the razzing of my life for that.
A bird in a gilded cage,
that's what I'd be. Not me.
What would my friends say
if they found me in a cheap flat?
- It isn't cheap. It's nice.
- Let's not talk about things like that now.
- I'll do anything you ask, but...
- I love that nose.
It's such a sweet nose.
Sweet or not,
I'm not gonna live in your house.
You might as well get that straight.
You want me to be happy, don't you?
Then I'm not gonna live in it.
Mr Smith, sir.
How do you like your bath, sir?
I like my bath, all right.
How do you like your bath?
- Who are you?
- I'm your valet, sir.
Dawson is the name, sir.
- You're my what?
- Your valet.
Thank you. I'll do that for you sometime.
That's very sweet.
What'd you say the name was?
Dawson, sir.
- Was I very drunk last night?
- Drunk, sir?
I must have been plastered
if I hired a valet.
But you didn't engage me, sir.
Who did engage you, then? Did you
take anything out of those pants?
No, sir.
- What are you doing in here?
- Miss Schuyler... I mean, Mrs Smith.
She engaged me this morning, sir.
So Mrs Smith engaged me a valet?
That's very nice of Mrs Smith
to engage me a valet.
Say, you know, you're nice.
You're all right.
- You'd make a good wife.
- Thank you, sir.
But not for me. If anybody liked you.
You're a nice fellow. But I'm sorry,
I don't need any valets today.
But indeed you do, sir,
if you don't mind my saying so.
A gentleman's gentleman, as it were.
Someone to draw your bath,
lay out your clothes, help to dress you.
It's really most essential, sir.
I need someone to help me
put on my pants and button them up?
- Quite, sir.
- I appreciate your effort.
But I don't need anybody
to button my pants.
I've been buttoning them for 30 years.
I can button them with one hand.
- But, Mr Smith, please.
- Listen, you've got a nice face.
You wouldn't want anything
to happen to your face?
- No, sir.
- All right. Outside.
- I beg your pardon?
- Outside.
I think I understand, sir.
You mean you want me to go?
You caught on, didn't you?
See, you're nice and you're smart.
Outside. Go on, outside.
And don't come back!
- No, sir.
- Wait a minute.
- What's this?
- That's a canary, sir.
That's a canary.
Who brought that in here?
Canary, huh? Go on, now.
Get that out of here!
Very good, sir.
A bird in a gilded cage.
Get that thing out of here.
Good morning, darling.
Dawson, see that Mr Smith's clothes
go to the cleaners this morning.
Very good, madam.
- Who is this mug?
- I got a present. Shut your eyes.
Keep them closed.
I know you're gonna love 'em.
It's little. Couldn't be
an automobile, could it?
Well, well, well. Ain't that nice?
- Do you like 'em?
- Got my initials on 'em, too.
They're cute. What do you do with them?
You wear them, of course, silly.
No. Not me.
- I haven't worn these for years.
- I know that.
I couldn't look Gallagher in the face.
Whether you can look
Gallagher in the face or not,
you're gonna be a good boy
and wear garters.
I love you. I'll eat spinach for you.
I'll go to the dentist twice a year.
I'll wash behind my ears for you.
But I will never wear garters
Oh, yes, you will, my dear
Oh, yes, you will, my dear
You'll wear garters
And you'll like it, too
Oh, no, I won't, my dear
Oh, no, I won't, my dear
I'll wash behind the ears
But, no, I won't, my dear
Oh, yes, you will, my dear
Oh, yes, you will, my dear
You'll eat spinach
But you'll wear garters, too
Oh, you can't carry a tune
You can't carry a tune
All you are good for
Is to sit and spoon, spoon
- Oh, no, I won't wear garters
- Oh, yes, you will, too
Is it real?
- Of course it's real.
- Any diamonds?
Must have set him back at least six bits.
One can't wear those and be decent.
- You can if you belong to the 400.
- I wonder what number he is.
Come on, get out!
Didn't you ever see a guy
with garters on?
- What does he wear them for?
- To hold his socks up?
Yes, that's it. One's hose look horribly
untidy when they hang loose-like.
Oh, my dear. They look ghastly.
They look ghastly.
Come on, get out of here!
Hey, Stew, your policeman.
Oh, hello, dear. Wait just a minute.
Go on, beat it. Go on, screw!
This is my wife.
- Go ahead.
- Pardon me.
In your respective chapeaux
and over your cauliflower ears.
- Hello, dear.
- It's nearly six o'clock.
You know how long it takes you to dress.
But the ambassador's coming at eight.
You've got to be ready by then.
I'd like to see Miss Wilson.
- Whom shall I say, miss?
- Miss Gallagher of the Post.
Miss Gallagher of the Post.
Miss Gallagher? I'm Miss Wilson,
Miss Schuyler's social secretary.
- I'm here in place of our social editor.
- Miss Ramsey telephoned me.
What would you like to have?
- A list of guests. That's the usual thing.
- Of course. I'll get it for you.
Would you like to take a look around?
Yes, thank you.
- It's a lovely dress.
- Thank you.
- Where is Mr Smith?
- Mr Smith?
Oh, you mean
Anne Schuyler's husband?
He's probably very tired. He's had to
meet these people personally tonight.
You newspaper people
have a lot of fun with him.
What is it you call him?
The Cinderella Man?
- There's the Spanish ambassador.
- He looks like one.
Miss Wilson, Mrs Smith
would like to see you.
Will you excuse me? Make yourself
at home for just a moment.
Mr Smith, I've read some of your plays,
and I'd like an autograph.
Well, well, well! If it isn't my old pal!
Turn around. Let's get a look at you.
Daughter of the slums,
how'd you get out of the ghetto?
I'm pinch-hitting for our society editor.
- I want to see some life in the raw.
- Life in the raw?
- We ain't got no raw life up here.
- I'll have to go someplace else.
Maybe some well-done butterflies,
slightly fried pansies,
or, better still, stuffed shirts.
And every one of them will give you
a good, stiff pain in the neck.
Who's been tying your tie lately?
It looks rotten.
Gallagher, do you look good!
What have you done to yourself?
What'd you do to that hair?
And where did you get that dress?
- I dyed one and washed the other.
- You dyed one and washed other?
You certainly look good.
Don't turn around, but a very beautiful
girl up there seems to be staring at us.
- Staring at us?
- My mistake. She's glaring.
Must be my wife.
It is my wife.
Hi, Anne.
Don't go away, because I'm gonna
bring a friend up I want you to meet.
Anne, prepare yourself
for the treat of your life.
- This is Gallagher.
- Gallagher?
My pal on the paper. She's subbing
for the society editor tonight.
Yes, of course. How do you do?
- Gallagher, Mrs Smith.
- How do you do?
You failed to mention that Gallagher
was a very beautiful young girl.
Gallagher?
You failed to mention
that Gallagher was a girl.
- That's funny. Isn't that funny?
- Yes, isn't it?
We never look at Gallagher as a girl.
What do you look upon her as?
Down at the office, we always
just look at... Gallagher, that's all.
They all consider me
just as one of the boys.
- Indeed? How interesting.
- Yes, isn't it?
Miss Wilson will give you the guest list
and any other details you need.
Thank you.
I'll go and look for her at once.
- Goodbye, Mrs Smith.
- Goodbye, Miss Gallagher.
Goodbye, Stew.
That was kind of
a rotten thing to do, Anne.
After all, Gallagher's my friend.
The least you can do
is be courteous to her.
- I thought I was very charming.
- You did? That's a lot of hooey.
- I'll go and apologise.
- Stewart, please.
I'm sorry. Really, I am sorry.
That's all right. Forget it.
As far as she's concerned,
I'm part of the hired help.
No.
Strange, I've never seen Anne
act that way before.
It's funny I never thought
to tell her you were a girl, isn't it?
Yes.
- Hello, Meadows.
- Who is it you wish to see, sir?
I wanna see Stew Smith.
Excuse me. I mean, Mr Smith.
Pardon me, Mr Smith is engaged.
- We have a reception here...
- A party? Great.
Jolly times and merry pranks, that's me.
I love parties.
You know what?
Beautiful pair of shoulders.
As a favour, please make it snappy
and tell Stew Smith I've gotta see him.
If you don't, my whole family's gonna die.
I'll tell Mr Smith at once, sir.
Have a seat.
I got a seat, but I have no place to put it.
Pardon me, sir,
but I've heard that one before.
Excuse me. Want to be sure he doesn't
take away any of the vases.
Well, well, well. So my little pal
Gallagher's a gal, huh?
Just to give you an idea
that I know how to treat a gal.
Get fresh with me and I'll sock you
in that little nose of yours.
Excuse me. I'll be right back.
What's the matter, Bingy?
A little clumsy to get in your pocket?
I was just looking. Pretty.
I was looking for the price tag.
- What do you want?
- Nothing.
I wanted to see how the newshound
looked made up for a gentleman.
Would you like to have me
turn around for you?
Oh, boy, I'd love it.
- How's that?
- Not bad. Not good, but not bad.
You ought to be able to fool
almost anybody.
Have you seen enough,
or would you like a photograph?
A photograph? What's the matter?
Hasn't Mama had you done in oils yet?
Just a gigolo...
Now, get this, mug! You've got
the kind of chin I'd just love to touch.
If you don't get out of here,
I'm gonna hang one right on it.
Take it easy, Dempsey. Just relax.
Relax and open your pores.
I bring a message from Garcia.
The boss sent me over to offer you a job.
- He wants you to write a daily column.
- Go on.
You can write your own ticket.
150 bucks a week.
- What's the catch?
- No catch. This is on the up-and-up.
All you have to do is just sign the article:
"By Anne Schuyler's husband."
Well, how does the old
Cinderella Man feel about that?
Well bowled, sir. Very neat.
That's what I think of it, Bingy.
- Smythe, the gentleman's leaving.
- Yes, sir.
Good morning, Mother.
Didn't I tell you he'd be marvellous?
Everybody thought he was so charming.
I was worried he'd knock something over.
I must have acted like an idiot.
What does it say
about the reception last night?
The usual. Blah, blah attended
the blah, blah reception...
...and wore the same blah, blah things.
You're behaving like
who you're married to.
You don't have anything
to complain about.
He was all right last night, wasn't he?
I told you not to worry about him.
It was a miracle.
The man was ill or something.
- Mother!
- Look! The front page!
I knew it. I felt it in my bones.
Did you see the papers?
"Cinderella Man grows hair on chest."
This is the most terrible publicity...
Don't you think I know it?
Smith, send for Mr Smythe.
- Smythe, send for Mr Smith.
- Double-strength.
"Cinderella Man grows hair on chest."
"'I wear the pants,'
says Anne Schuyler's husband."
Good morning, everybody.
Maybe it isn't a good morning, huh?
Ever get a feeling there was somebody
else in the room with you?
- Have you seen this?
- The worm.
- Pardon?
- A worm. I'll step on him.
To engage in a cheap, common brawl
in my own home.
"I wear the pants."
Not even the "trousers"!
I tried to stop the evening papers.
It's useless.
- Quit trying to stop anybody.
- You might deny it.
The more you deny, the more they print.
Let them alone.
- Thing to do is keep your trap shut.
- Trap shut?
Certainly. I'll take care of
this guy Bingy myself, personally.
- What are you crying about?
- Is it true? Did you really say it?
Sure, I said it.
I didn't say it for publication, though.
- You struck him in our house?
- I struck him in your house.
I'll strike anybody in anybody's house
that calls me a Cinderella Man.
- What do you expect them to call you?
- That's the 14th crack you've made.
I'm keeping count. When they get to 20,
I'll sock you in the nose.
- In fact, I ought to do it now.
- Are you going to watch him insult us?
- Haven't you any decency left?
- Why doesn't Dexter show decency?
You might show some, too.
What do you expect
when he's called such names?
I'm glad you hit that reporter.
He deserved it.
All right.
It's your funeral, Anne Schuyler.
Go on, beat it, shadow.
Cinderella Man.
That's 15.
Pardon me, ma'am. They've phoned
from the mayor's reception...
...to remind you it's past the hour
for the reception.
- Are the cars ready?
- They've been ready for half an hour.
I hope I don't have to make any speeches.
You can't disappoint all those women.
It isn't every day they get to see
a famous round-the-world flyer.
But they scare me to death.
This is the fourth dinner this week.
I'm running out of material.
- Are you complaining?
- There's always too many people around.
- It's late. What are we waiting for?
- You're waiting for my husband.
I'll run up and see
what that slowpoke's doing.
- I'll be right back.
- Sure.
Stewart, we're all waiting for you.
- Where's your valet?
- I poisoned him.
Stop trying to be funny
and get ready, will you?
- I'm not going.
- What are you talking about?
- What am I going to tell those people?
- Tell them anything.
Tell them I'm not going.
Tell them I'm not at home.
Would you tell me why you're not going?
I've never wanted to go out
with those social parasites,
those sweet-smelling fashion plates.
I don't like them. They bore me.
- They give me the jitters.
- They're my friends.
They still give me the jitters.
Well, are you going or aren't you?
- Come here.
- Look out for my lipstick.
I'll tell you what. Let's you and me
sneak out all by ourselves.
- Are you crazy?
- Think of the fun we'll have.
We'll sneak down, get in the valet's Ford.
- Will you stop being silly?
- No, I'll tell you what.
- I'll introduce you to all my gang.
- I don't want to meet your gang.
I don't mean the newspaper fellas.
Another gang I know.
You'd love them. They're writers
and musicians and artists.
Great crowd. People who are worthwhile.
Meaning that my friends
aren't worthwhile?
- They're all right.
- That's what you mean.
You've made that clear to me,
and I'm sick and tired of it.
I've given you party after party,
taken you into the best homes,
introduced you to people of importance.
Are you grateful? No.
You insult them and act like a boor.
I'm tired of making excuses
for the things you've done.
It's just as well you're not coming.
Maybe I can enjoy myself without having
to worry about what you're going to do.
And that, my friend,
is what is known as...
...society belle telling ex star
newspaper reporter to go to...
How have you been, Mr Smith?
Did you call, sir?
- Smythe?
- Yes.
Smythe. Come here. I want to talk to you.
Smythe. Come here.
Come on, Smythe. Talk to me, will you?
I'm going nuts!
I'm going nuts in this house!
This big... Come here.
I'm not gonna hurt you.
Look, come out here.
Come on, what's the matter with you?
- Do you hear something?
- Yes, sir.
- You try it.
- Me, sir?
No. Give it more volume.
No, that's enough.
I just wanted to give you an idea.
Now you know. This house is haunted.
- No, sir.
- Yes.
- Have you looked in the closets?
- Yes, sir.
- Found no skeletons?
- No, sir.
It's haunted just the same.
Here.
What do you do when you're not carrying
those... double-strength?
Well, sir, I putter.
When you're alone and you want
to amuse yourself, then what?
I just putter.
Putter. Do you have to have
a putter to putter?
No, sir. I putter with my hands.
Well, isn't that nice?
You just go right ahead with your...
That's all right. How do you do that?
Well, sir, I'll show you.
- That's puttering, sir.
- No. That's?
Well, well, well.
It's all right if you like it, I guess.
Anybody can do that?
No, sir.
Some people are natural putterers.
Others can never master it.
Some people are born
and never would become putterers?
- Yes.
- Wouldn't that be tragic?
Not to know that
you could never be a putterer?
How about me?
Do you think if I concentrated...
...and put my whole soul into it
that someday I might be a putterer?
You, sir? You could never be a putterer.
Not a good putterer.
If I can't be a good putterer, there's...
What makes you think I couldn't?
Well, sir, to be a putterer,
one's mind must be at ease.
A person with a problem
could never be a putterer.
For instance, a fish can putter
in water but not on land,
because he'd be out of place.
An eagle can putter around
rugged mountaintops but not in a cage,
because he'd be restless and unhappy.
Now, sir, if you'll pardon me,
with all respect,
as a Smythe to a Smith,
you are an eagle in a cage.
- A bird in a gilded cage?
- Yes, sir.
That's all I want to know.
Hello.
Hello, Gallagher? Hello, old pal.
How are you, old pal?
Hello, Stew.
I'm pretty good. Can't complain.
How's our gentleman of leisure?
On the coast of Norway and I can't
get out. Will you come get me out?
Oh, your play.
"Act 1, Scene 1. Coast of Norway."
And then a lot of blanks. Is that it?
Come on. Don't be silly.
All right. If you feel like
you need a chaperone, call up Hank.
You'll find him at Joe's, no doubt.
Hank would be my idea
of a perfect bodyguard.
Sure he would.
I knew I could depend on you.
Snap it up, will you?
OK.
Smythe, I'll get this.
I'm expecting some friends.
Very good, sir.
Well, Gallagher! Come in.
I'm glad to see you.
- Hank, how are you?
- Kind of thirsty.
- Come in. I'll get you a drink.
- You remember Joe?
I invited him to bend an elbow with us.
- It's all right. Bring him in.
- Come on, Joe.
- Hello, Joe.
- How are you?
- Glad to see you.
- Johnson's outside.
Mind if he comes in and dips the beak?
- Bring him in. The more the merrier.
- Come on.
Johnson. Glad to see you. Come in.
Wait a minute.
I got two of the boys I brought along.
You brought two? Bring them in.
- What's the difference?
- Come on in.
Hello, boys. Come in.
How are you? Come right in.
- Hello, Stew.
- Well, what the?
Hello, sonny boy!
- I'm sorry nobody could come.
- Well, my old pal!
If it isn't Sweetheart! Why didn't you
bring your family with you?
The rest had to do the morning edition.
They'll be down later.
It'll be lonesome without them.
Smythe, give them a drink.
And find out what the boys
in the back room want.
Don't be holding out on us.
We're willing to help you.
It isn't done, gentlemen!
It isn't done, I say.
Gallagher, you certainly
took no chances, did you?
I'm sorry. I asked Hank
and Hank did the rest.
Hank brought them? We'll give them
a drink and throw them out. How's that?
Holy...
- Is there a green elephant there?
- No, this is just little Bingy Baker.
Big Chief Bingy come
to white man's tepee to make friends.
Big Chief very sorry.
Show how sorry, will bend over
and let white man kick Big Chief...
...where sun never shine.
Excuse me. I wouldn't miss this for...
Fire-water, all right.
That's all thrashed out.
I'm certainly glad you're not really sore.
You know our racket. News is news.
Sure, it's all right. That was a
great story. I wish I'd printed it.
I gave you the breaks, didn't I?
That was that hairy-chest story.
You raised it up to the chin, I see.
Go on in the other room
and get yourself a drink.
Smythe. Give them one drink,
throw them out.
- Yes, sir.
- We're gonna give him one.
You know what I should do?
I should sock you in that funny nose.
- Yes, and I'd love it.
- Sure you'd love it.
How far have you gotten?
Just been able to get off
of that Norway coast so far.
"Act 1, Scene 1.
A street in Old Madrid."
You're not getting your play done,
but you're covering territory.
Haven't I covered some territory?
I feel like I've been on a Cook's tour.
Have you ever been to Old Madrid?
- Been where?
- Old Madrid.
I've never even been to New Madrid.
Then how do you expect to write about it?
- I'll draw on my imagination, I suppose.
- Did Conrad draw on his?
- Did who?
- Conrad.
- What do you know about Conrad?
- Not a thing.
- Isn't he the one you always yell about?
- You look cute.
Isn't he the one that only writes
about the things he knows about?
Then write about something you know.
About yourself and Anne.
The poor boy that marries a rich girl.
Now, there's a swell theme.
Gee, that's an idea there, Gallagher.
That's an idea there. I wonder, now.
Sure. She'd make a beautiful heroine.
And there's her mother.
What a character that old dame
would make with her double-strengths.
Their lawyer friend'd make a great villain.
- And there's you.
- What could I be?
I don't know. You could be something.
Come on, scram.
We got an idea. Let's get this set.
It's a great idea. Great idea for a play.
Get me a cigarette, will you?
Let's not lose this.
- Here you are.
- Thanks.
Now, let's see.
How would I start?
Hey, pal, how would you start?
Smythe, you're a slave.
What's the difference
between a king and a butler?
Say, you can't come in here.
This is a private party.
My old classmate from Harvard.
Whoopee!
Harvard, '98. Hello, Mama!
- And I know who's the cause of it all.
- Oh, Dexter.
Smythe!
- Who are these people?
- Friends of mine.
Very li...
- Literary people.
- He's drunk.
You've been drinking.
- I have. Double-strength.
- Very drunk.
Where is Mr Smith?
Well, for crying out loud, I don't know.
And I don't care.
If we could only get a great scene,
a tremendously emotional scene.
Something to ring
the hearts out of the public,
to bring the curtain down
in the second act.
- Couldn't dig one out of your hat?
- Afraid I'm all out of tricks tonight.
The boy's wearing his white spats
and going to pink teas.
- The Frau enters. How's that?
- Very good.
If we can just get where we...
- Hello, Anne.
- Good morning.
- What does this mean?
- What does what mean?
Oh, that mob? I got so interested
in the play, I forgot all about 'em.
And we got a play, Anne.
Have we got a play!
Most of it's Gallagher's.
Her brain just snaps like that all the time.
I'm not interested
in the way her brain snaps.
- I think I'd better go.
- I think you should.
Wait a minute. What's the idea?
I want these people to leave immediately.
Aren't you being a little unreasonable?
Unreasonable? Have you any idea
what the place looks like?
Do you expect me to let this house
turn into a cheap bar?
Don't get excited. Perhaps the boys
have had too much to drink.
I'll go down and throw them out.
That's no reason for you
to take this attitude.
I have a right to invite my friends
to my house, haven't I?
Your house?
I get you. It's all right.
I don't blame you.
I kind of forgot myself
for a moment there.
That's what I call "getting me told",
isn't it?
I suppose I've been
boarding out this last year.
I don't like
your boarding house, lady.
And if it's all the same to you,
I'm moving out.
Stewart.
I should have done it long ago,
only I didn't have sense enough to do it.
I have to try to make
a success of something...
...that I knew darn well
was a failure from the very beginning.
- No more!
- You can't walk out of here like this.
Who's gonna stop me?
I'd like to see somebody stop me.
You think I'm gonna stick around
to look at this mausoleum?
Not on your life. You're gonna make
no stuffed shirt out of me.
- What do you think of that?
- What's going on? Who's this woman?
- Joan of Arc. What's it to you?
- The man's insane!
Sure I'm insane.
But I got some good news for you.
This magnolia is leaving
your sweet-smelling vanilla joint.
This bird in a cage is gonna button
his own pants from now on.
That's what's known
as telling the mother-in-law.
You've done nothing but watch me
ever since I've been here.
Treated me like a thug. Watched me
like a hawk. Mistrusted me.
When I leave, she counts the silverware.
- That's ridiculous.
- Fine. I don't blame her.
I'm out of my own crowd.
Should have had better sense.
- I'll stay in my own back yard.
- You're acting like a child.
I'm a child. Have it any way you want.
I'm going to my apartment
where I should have lived.
But I listen to you and move here.
If you wanna live with me, that's OK.
But the sign will say "Mr Stew Smith".
You have to be Mrs Stew Smith
or there's nothing doing.
No more Anne Schuyler's husband.
Here's some more news for you.
Take your red room, your green room,
your left wing, your right wing.
You know what you can do with them!
Pardon me, could you spare a dime
for a cup of coffee?
Coffee? How'd you like to be
the Knight of the Garter?
- No, just coffee.
- It's all right. Wait just a minute.
Entertain the gentleman.
There you are. With those,
you can eat for a couple of months.
How about the socks?
I wouldn't worry too much.
She'll see it your way.
I'm not worrying about her. I'm worrying
about that second-act curtain.
You're a first-class chump. You just
staged a scene that'd play like a million.
That declaration of independence
for the second-act curtain?
It's an idea. It's a great idea.
Hey, Gallagher.
How do you expect me to bring
a curtain down on an empty stomach?
Lt'll be ready soon.
If you can't get my breakfast
ready on time, get yourself another job.
- Sorry, boss.
- Don't be sorry. Just get the breakfast.
Hello, Smith.
- Holy jumping swordfish.
- I suppose you know why I came?
I've no idea, unless some
of the silverware's missing.
No. Don't be absurd, Smith.
May I come in?
- Sure. Come right in.
- Thanks.
May I sit down?
If I'd known you were coming,
I'd have thrown you up a waffle.
I don't eat waffles.
Anne asked me to come and see you
about the divorce.
She wants me to arrange
the financial settlement.
Listen, Grayson,
I've got $106.75 in the bank.
Anne can have that,
but I'm spending it awful fast.
Anne doesn't expect anything from you.
We would like to know
how much you want to...
Wait a minute. Do I get from you
that she wants to pay me alimony?
- That's putting it crudely...
- Remember about that 20th crack?
You've just made it. Before you go
unconscious, get this through your nut.
When you don't know anything.
Your natural state.
Some people, you can't buy
their self-respect. I'm one of those guys.
- We just thought...
- Let me do the thinking.
I didn't marry that dame for her dough
and I don't want any of her dough now.
I was too poor to get a wedding present,
so I'll give her a divorce.
Stand up. And now for that 20th crack.
Who was that?
The Schuyler lawyer.
What did he want?
He just dropped by to give us
a great opening for the third act.
What was the idea he gave you?
Swell idea. How's this?
The lawyer comes to see the kid
to talk over the divorce.
They insult the poor but honest boy
by offering him alimony.
The kid gets sore, socks the lawyer
and throws him out.
How's that for the beginning
of the third act, huh?
From now on, the play will be easy.
Bring the wife back, have her say
she's sorry, and then your play's over.
You think I'm gonna let that guy
go back to his wife?
Not on your life.
He's got to go to the other gal.
What other girl?
Little O'Brien girl, of course.
The one you suggested in the story.
But that's ridiculous. You can't make
a sudden change like that.
You gonna tell me how to write a play?
There's nothing sudden about that.
He's always loved the girl.
But he was such a sap, he didn't
have sense enough to tell her.
That's all right. We can fix that.
He'll go to her and... Here, I'll show you.
He'll go to the little O'Brien gal and say...
In some pretty words,
something that you can write,
he'll say, " Darling, I'm sorry.
"I've been a fool. I've always loved you,
only I didn't see it.
"As quick as I can get a divorce
from my wife, I want you to marry me."
She'll look at him
and then she'll say, "Yeah".
And then they'll embrace,
or something like that.
Then he'll kiss her or something.
What's the matter, Gallagher?
What's the matter?