0cbfda3f5a75cbf26ba96f72e33e5559064e33ba
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http://www.imsdb.com/scripts/Platinum-Blonde.html
PLATINUM BLONDE Story
. THE END
 Stewart "Stew" Smith (Robert Williams), ace reporter for the Post, is assigned to get the story about the latest escapade of playboy Michael Schuyler (Donald Dillaway), a breach of promise suit by chorus girl Gloria Golden, who has been paid to drop it. Unlike rival Daily Tribune reporter Bingy Baker (Walter Catlett), he turns down a $50 bribe from Dexter Grayson (Reginald Owen), the Schuylers' lawyer, to not write anything. He does pretend to be swayed by the pleas of Anne (Jean Harlow), Michael's sister, but then brazenly calls his editor with the scoop, appalling the Schuylers.
Stew returns to the house to return a copy of Conrad he had taken from the Schuylers' library. The butler, Smythe (Halliwell Hobbes), tries to make him leave, but Anne sees him. Stew surprises Anne by presenting her with Michael's love letters to Gloria, who had intended to use them to extort more money from the Schuylers. Anne offers Stew a $5,000 check, which he refuses. She asks why he reported the suit, but not the love notes. Stew explains that one was news, the other, blackmail. He later tells her he is writing a play. Intrigued, Anne wonders if she can turn him into a gentleman. She invites him to a party at the house.
They fall in love and soon elope, horrifying Anne's widowed mother, Mrs. Schuyler (Louise Closser Hale), an imperious dowager who looks down on Stew's lower-class background. Michael takes it in stride, telling Stew he's not as bad as everyone thinks. The wedding is scooped by the rival Daily Tribune, enraging his editor, Conroy (Edmund Breese). Even more upset is Stew's best friend Gallagher (Loretta Young), a "sob sister" columnist secretly pining for him. Conroy taunts Stew as "a bird in a gilded cage." Despite his bravado, Stew is upset by the implication he is no longer his own man, vowing not to live on Anne's money. However, she cajoles him into moving into the mansion and starts to make him over, buying him garters (despite his objections) and hiring a valet, Dawson (Claud Allister).
When the Schuylers hold a reception for the Spanish ambassador, Gallagher substitutes for the society reporter and chats with Stew. Anne is surprised to learn that her husband's best friend (whom she had assumed was a man) is actually a lovely young woman and treats Gallagher icily. Then, Bingy tells Stew the Tribune will give him a column if he signs it "Anne Schuyler's husband." Insulted, Stew punches Bingy when he calls him Cinderella Man. The next morning, Mrs. Schuyler is aghast to find Stew's brawl has made the front page.
Wrestling with his play, Stew invites Gallagher and another friend, Hank (Eddy Chandler) from Joe's. They arrive with Joe and several bar patrons in tow and even Bingy shows up to apologize. A raucous party ensues. Meanwhile, Stew and Gallagher ponder the play, deciding to base it on Stew's marriage. Anne, Mrs. Schuyler, and Grayson return as the party is in full swing. Stew apologizes for letting the party get out of control, but protests that he can invite friends to "my house." Anne replies, "Your house?"
Stew returns with Gallagher to his own apartment. Along the way, he gives a homeless man his expensive garters. Grayson stops by to say Anne will pay him alimony, whereupon Stew punches him (earlier, Stew had warned Grayson that his twentieth insult would earn him a "sock to the nose"). Stew tells Gallagher the play could end with the protagonist divorcing his rich wife and marrying the woman whom he had always loved without ever realizing it. Overwhelmed, Gallagher hugs him.
Stewart Stew Smith ( Robert Williams ) , ace reporter for the Post , is assigned to get the story about the latest escapade of playboy Michael Schuyler ( Donald Dillaway ) , a breach of promise suit by chorus girl Gloria Golden , who has been paid to drop it . Unlike rival Daily Tribune reporter Bingy Baker ( Walter Catlett ) , he turns down a $ 50 bribe from Dexter Grayson ( Reginald Owen ) , the Schuylers ' lawyer , to not write anything . He does pretend to be swayed by the pleas of Anne ( Jean Harlow ) , Michael s sister , but then brazenly calls his editor with the scoop , appalling the Schuylers . Stew returns to the house to return a copy of Conrad he had taken from the Schuylers ' library . The butler , Smythe ( Halliwell Hobbes ) , tries to make him leave , but Anne sees him . Stew surprises Anne by presenting her with Michael s love letters to Gloria , who had intended to use them to extort more money from the Schuylers . Anne offers Stew a $ 5,000 check , which he refuses . She asks why he reported the suit , but not the love notes . Stew explains that one was news , the other , blackmail . He later tells her he is writing a play . Intrigued , Anne wonders if she can turn him into a gentleman . She invites him to a party at the house . They fall in love and soon elope , horrifying Anne s widowed mother , Mrs. Schuyler ( Louise Closser Hale ) , an imperious dowager who looks down on Stew s lower-class background . Michael takes it in stride , telling Stew he s not as bad as everyone thinks . The wedding is scooped by the rival Daily Tribune , enraging his editor , Conroy ( Edmund Breese ) . Even more upset is Stew s best friend Gallagher ( Loretta Young ) , a sob sister columnist secretly pining for him . Conroy taunts Stew as a bird in a gilded cage . Despite his bravado , Stew is upset by the implication he is no longer his own man , vowing not to live on Anne s money . However , she cajoles him into moving into the mansion and starts to make him over , buying him garters ( despite his objections ) and hiring a valet , Dawson ( Claud Allister ) . When the Schuylers hold a reception for the Spanish ambassador , Gallagher substitutes for the society reporter and chats with Stew . Anne is surprised to learn that her husband s best friend ( whom she had assumed was a man ) is actually a lovely young woman and treats Gallagher icily . Then , Bingy tells Stew the Tribune will give him a column if he signs it Anne Schuyler s husband . Insulted , Stew punches Bingy when he calls him Cinderella Man . The next morning , Mrs. Schuyler is aghast to find Stew s brawl has made the front page . Wrestling with his play , Stew invites Gallagher and another friend , Hank ( Eddy Chandler ) from Joe s . They arrive with Joe and several bar patrons in tow and even Bingy shows up to apologize . A raucous party ensues . Meanwhile , Stew and Gallagher ponder the play , deciding to base it on Stew s marriage . Anne , Mrs. Schuyler , and Grayson return as the party is in full swing . Stew apologizes for letting the party get out of control , but protests that he can invite friends to my house . Anne replies , Your house ? Stew returns with Gallagher to his own apartment . Along the way , he gives a homeless man his expensive garters . Grayson stops by to say Anne will pay him alimony , whereupon Stew punches him ( earlier , Stew had warned Grayson that his twentieth insult would earn him a sock to the nose ) . Stew tells Gallagher the play could end with the protagonist divorcing his rich wife and marrying the woman whom he had always loved without ever realizing it . Overwhelmed , Gallagher hugs him .
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Platinum Blonde (film)
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<b>                                     
</b><b>                                    PLATINUM BLONDE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                    Story by Harry E. Chandlee and Douglas W. Churchill



<b>                                      
</b><b>                         FADE IN
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         1. INT. CITY ROOM OF NEWSPAPER OFFICE 
</b><b>                         - DAY - FULL SHOT
</b><b>                                      
</b>                         General atmosphere, typical of a busy 
                         newspaper office. Copy boys running 
                         about, shirtsleeved reporters and rewrite 
                         men pounding away on typewriters. Little 
                         wire baskets containing cylinders of 
                         copy whizzing back and forth, such as 
                         are used in some department stores, 
                         etc.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         SOUND
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (Morkrum machines,[1] typewriters, telephone 
                         bells and all other sounds relative 
                         to a newspaper office)
<b>                                      
</b>                         When shot has been fully established:
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         CAMERA STARTS TRUCKING DOWN MAIN AISLE
</b><b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         It takes in the battery of Morkrum machines 
                         clattering away; the crescent-shaped 
                         copy desk; the desk of the sporting 
                         editor, with a big cauliflower-eared 
                         pugilist and his manager standing by 
                         the side of the sporting editor, a hefty 
                         guy in his shirtsleeves, smoking a big 
                         cigar and wearing a green eye-shade; 
                         the desk of the society editor, a prissy 
                         old lady, who takes down a worn copy 
                         of the Blue Book as the camera passes 
                         her and starts looking up some data; 
                         and any other interesting or typical 
                         bits that can be thought out. At the 
                         far end of the room is the desk of Conroy, 
                         the City Editor.
<b>                                      
</b>                         Everything shows evidence of feverish 
                         activity and great haste.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         2. CLOSE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         On Conroy, the City Editor at his desk, 
                         speaking on the telephone.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yeah, that's all I ever get from you 
                         guys - a lot of hard luck stories. You 
                         come back here and I'll give you an 
                         assignment. It will be a last interview 
                         - with the cashier!
<b>                                      
</b>                         He hangs up, looks around with a scowl.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Stew! Stew Smith!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         REPORTER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh Mr. Conroy, give me a crack at that 
                         Schuyler story, will you?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You? If you ever got your foot into 
                         a drawing room, you'd step on a sliding 
                         rug! Stew is the only man that's got 
                         brains enough to handle this. Scram!
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         A Copy Boy rushes by on an errand.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Say Spud, did you find Stew?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         COPY BOY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Not yet.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Well, did you look in the
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ? 4 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         COPY BOY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         First place I looked.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Not there, eh? For cryin' out loud, 
                         where is that? Go and dig him up! Stew! 
                         Stew Smith!
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CAMERA TRUCKS ON:
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Until it takes in a sort of make-shift 
                         screen, concealing a corner of the room.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         LAP DISSOLVE TO:
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         3. CLOSE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         On the other side of the screen. Stew 
                         Smith is holding something in his hand. 
                         His hat tilted back on his head, and 
                         he is regarding this plaything intently. 
                         Gallagher is sitting close to him, also 
                         gazing intently at the plaything. Gallagher 
                         is a girl, one of the sob sisters[2] 
                         on the newspaper, dressed in a trim 
                         but inexpensive little tailored suit.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Here it is. Pray for me, Gallagher. 
                         Pray for me. Hold everything . . .
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         4. CLOSE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         On the object in his hand, one of those 
                         hand-puzzles where you have to land 
                         jumping beans in the holes.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         5. DOUBLE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew, your hands are shaking. You've 
                         been drinking again.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Come on, come on. Here they come, Gallagher! 
                         Here they come!
<b>                                      
</b>                         Conroy's shouts are heard in the background.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (conspiratorially)
<b>                                     
</b>                         The boss is getting hoarse.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         There's the third one. If I don't get 
                         the last one, there's a certain sob 
                         sister I know that's going to get a 
                         kick right in the . . . oh! Whoops, 
                         almost had that.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         6. MED. CLOSE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Conroy, the City Editor at his desk, 
                         looking about with a scowl for Stew.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (bellowing)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Stew! Stew Smith!
<b>                                     
</b>                         The Copy Boy races over to whisper something 
                         to Conroy.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 5 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         What? The screen?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         7. CLOSE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         On Stew Smith
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Gallagher! I made it!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         8. MEDIUM SHOT (FROM CONROY'S ANGLE)
</b><b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         The screen, concealing the washbasin 
                         corner.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CONTINUATION, SCENE 6
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         A wrathy Conroy, his eyes centering 
                         suspiciously on something. With his 
                         eyes on the screen, Conroy reaches out 
                         and grasps a heavy telephone book on 
                         the corner of his desk. Still looking 
                         off, he heaves it forcefully.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         9. MED. CLOSE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Showing the screen. The telephone book 
                         crashes into it, overturning it and 
                         revealing Stew and Gallagher on the 
                         other side. They both look up, startled. 
                         The newsroom erupts in laughter.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CONTINUATION, SCENE 6
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Conroy, glaring off fiercely.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Come over here!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         10. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Conroy at his desk. Stew saunters into 
                         the scene.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Look, I quit!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yeah?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yeah.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yeah?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You're always picking on me. It took 
                         me three hours to get those little gadgets 
                         in those holes, and you screw it up 
                         in a minute. Hey, look!
<b>                                      
</b>                         He gives the hand-puzzle to Conroy, 
                         who is immediately captivated by the 
                         fascinating object in his hand.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         11. CLOSE DOUBLE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (superior)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Mmm, not as easy as it looks, is it?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Conroy puts it down with a disgusted 
                         look.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Aagh! No wonder you're batty. Would 
                         it be imposing too much upon you if 
                         I asked you to do a little work today? 
                         Just to sort of break the monotony?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ? 6 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         With me you can always do business.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Do you know what to do in a drawing-room?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         It isn't a question of knowing what 
                         to do, it's knowing how to get in one 
                         that counts.
<b>                                      
</b>                         The telephone rings, Conroy answers 
                         it.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (speaking on the phone)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Yeah, yeah. Okay, okay.
<b>                                     
</b>                         He hangs up, turns back to Stew.
<b>                                     
</b>                         Now listen, we've got a tip that the 
                         Schuyler family has finally made a deal 
                         with that chorus dame.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Gloria Golden?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yeah, little Gloria.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         The human cash register. Got her hooks 
                         into the Schuyler kid, eh?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Right - for the first time this year.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (modestly)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Well - it's only April.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Come on, get going, get going!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (loftily)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Get going where? I can write that yarn 
                         without stepping out of the office.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yeah - and get us into a million dollar 
                         libel suit. It wouldn't be the first 
                         time. Now, you get over there and get 
                         a statement out of the old lady, the 
                         sister, or the kid. Any of them - but 
                         get it.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (resigned)
<b>                                     
</b>                         All right. Give me a voucher for expenses.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         12. CLOSE DOUBLE SHOT (ANOTHER ANGLE)
</b><b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         What expenses? All you need is carfare 
                         to Long Island. You'd better get a shave 
                         and a shine, because you, you're going 
                         to have a tough time getting in there 
                         as it is.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 7 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I know those bluenoses. Their ancestors 
                         refused to come over on the Mayflower 
                         because they didn't want to rub elbows 
                         with the tourists. So they swam over.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         He turns away and exits.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         FADE OUT:
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         FADE IN
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         13. EXT. THE SCHUYLER HOUSE - DAY - 
</b><b>                         MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                      
</b>                         Someone pacing outside the mansion gates.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         14. EXT. THE SCHUYLER HOUSE (ANOTHER 
</b><b>                         ANGLE) - DAY - CLOSE SHOT
</b><b>                                      
</b>                         A guard dog pacing inside the gates.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         15. INT. INSIDE THE MANSION - DAY - 
</b><b>                         CLOSE SHOT
</b><b>                                      
</b>                         A parrot on its perch, hopping from 
                         foot to foot.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         16. INT. SCHUYLER DRAWING ROOM - DAY 
</b><b>                         - CLOSE SHOT
</b><b>                                      
</b>                         Michael Schuyler, a callow youth with 
                         the usual dissipated, spoiled look. 
                         His fingers are nipping out little chunks 
                         of a folded piece of paper, dropping 
                         the bits on the floor. This is indicative 
                         of a habit of the individual in question 
                         when undergoing nervous stress. He is 
                         very fidgety and apprehensive, as he 
                         glances around.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CAMERA PANS OVER TO SHOW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Anne Schuyler, a beautiful and aristocratic, 
                         though slightly hard girl, a few years 
                         older than Michael.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CAMERA PANS OVER TO SHOW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Mrs. Stuyvesand Van Alstyne Schuyler, 
                         mother of Anne and Michael. A grande 
                         dame, stern and glowering. Her attitude 
                         indicates suppressed nervousness and 
                         anger. She glares over in the direction 
                         of Michael. Then she turns and looks 
                         in another direction.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (viciously)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Dexter Grayson, if you were any kind 
                         of a lawyer, you'd get those letters 
                         back!
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CAMERA PANS OVER TO SHOW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Dexter Grayson, the family lawyer standing, 
                         his hands clasped behind his back, just 
                         completing the pacing of a few short 
                         steps in his best courtroom manner, 
                         his head bowed in an attitude of deepest 
                         thought. He is dressed in striped afternoon 
                         trousers and black coat. He turns to 
                         regard Mrs. Schuyler.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         But I keep telling you how difficult 
                         it is, Mrs. Schuyler. The last time 
                         I asked her for those letters, she made 
                         very uncouth noises with her mouth.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         CAMERA PANS OVER TO SHOW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Anne Schuyler, trying desperately to 
                         keep from laughing.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CAMERA DRAWS BACK
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         To reveal a full shot of the room and 
                         group. They are in the magnificent drawing 
                         room of the Schuyler home, resembling 
                         the Union Depot and furnished with almost 
                         imperial splendor and magnificence. 
                         They very much resemble a jury in session. 
                         As they continue:
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 8 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         MICHAEL
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I don't know why you're making all this 
                         fuss. I only sent her six of them.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (sarcastic)
<b>                                     
</b>                         If you had to make a fool of yourself, 
                         why didn't you tell it to her instead 
                         of writing?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         MICHAEL
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Because I couldn't get her on the phone.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Imbecile!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You should have known better than to 
                         write, Romeo. I found that out a long 
                         time ago.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I should say you had. At the rate you 
                         two are going, we'll have to leave the 
                         country to save our faces.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Splendid, Mother. Let's hop over to 
                         Monte Carlo. It's a great place to save 
                         a face.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, shut up!
<b>                                     
</b>                         A butler appears in the doorway. He 
                         is about to say something, but he stammers 
                         and turns.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (stopping him)
<b>                                     
</b>                         What is it, Smythe?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Pardon me, madam - but what am I to 
                         say to the newspapermen?
<b>                                      
</b>                         Mrs. Schuyler looks distractedly at 
                         Grayson.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         17. CLOSER SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Mrs. Schuyler and Grayson. She rises 
                         and speaks imperiously:
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Dexter, go out and tell those ruffians 
                         I have nothing to say.
<b>                                      
</b>                         Grayson faces her placatingly.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You can't do that. Leave it to me. I 
                         know how to handle reporters.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (with a shudder)
<b>                                     
</b>                         All right, then - get it over with.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ? 9 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         18. MEDIUM FULL SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Grayson turns officiously toward the 
                         waiting butler.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         We've decided to see the reporters. 
                         Send in the man from the Tribune first.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Very good, sir.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, Smythe, some bicarbonate of soda, 
                         quick - double strength. I know those 
                         news mongrels[3] will upset me.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I've anticipated it, madame. The bicarbonate 
                         is ready.
<b>                                      
</b>                         The butler exits.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         19. INT. SCHUYLER LIBRARY - DAY - FULL 
</b><b>                         SHOT
</b><b>                                      
</b>                         This room resembles the Grand Central 
                         Station. It is lined with bookcases 
                         filled with gorgeous first editions 
                         and special bindings, and is furnished 
                         in the extreme of magnificence and luxury.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Present are Stew and Bingy, reporter 
                         from the Tribune. Stew is seated, idly 
                         leafing through a first edition.
<b>                                      
</b>                         Bingy, still with his hat on, spots 
                         an expensive music box on a nearby table, 
                         opens it and does a little jig to the 
                         tune that is emitted.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         20. CLOSER SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Bingy, as he lingers at the table. He 
                         is a lazy, sloppy-looking guy. His face 
                         needs a shave and his pants need pressing. 
                         There is a spot of dried ketchup on 
                         his tie. On the table is a humidor. 
                         Bingy opens it and lifts out a handful 
                         of cigars.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         21. CLOSE SHOT - STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         As he looks up from the book, he suggests:
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Hey Bingy, you'll find the silverware 
                         in the dining room.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CONTINUATION, SCENE 20
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Bingy turns, putting the cigars in his 
                         pocket.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Much obliged.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         22. MEDIUM FULL SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Smythe enters.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (frigidly)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Mr. Grayson has decided to see you.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ? 10 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Both Stew and Bingy start forward eagerly. 
                         Smythe continues:
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         The gentleman from the Tribune, first.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         23. CLOSER THREE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Bingy beams broadly and Stew is disappointed.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         There are no gentlemen on the Tribune.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I understand, sir.
<b>                                     
</b>                         Smythe leads the way out. As Bingy passes 
                         by, Stew trips him.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Say, take it easy! Take it easy! Listen, 
                         my boy. No use you hanging around here. 
                         Just buy the Tribune tonight and read 
                         all about it. You can rewrite it for 
                         your last edition.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Couldn't make the last edition. It'd 
                         take me four hours to translate your 
                         story into English.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, is that so?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I'm afraid.
<b>                                     
</b>                         Bingy turns to leave.
<b>                                     
</b>                         Take off your hat. You might make an 
                         impression.
<b>                                      
</b>                         Bingy dutifully doffs his hat.
<b>                                     
</b>                         Impossible. Put it on again.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Hey, make up your mind, will you?
<b>                                     
</b>                         Bingy hurriedly puts his hat back on 
                         as he disappears.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         24. INT. SCHUYLER DRAWING ROOM - DAY 
</b><b>                         - MEDIUM CLOSE SHOT
</b><b>                                      
</b>                         By the door which leads out into the 
                         hall. The butler enters and stops, standing 
                         stiffly. Bingy enters behind him, shambling 
                         awkwardly. He stops in some consternation 
                         as he sees:
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         25. MEDIUM SHOT (FROM HIS ANGLE)
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         The Schuyler jury. Grayson, Mrs. Schuyler, 
                         Anne and Michael, all surveying him 
                         in varying degrees of unfriendliness.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         CONTINUATION, SCENE 24
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Bingy hesitates uneasily as he regards 
                         this impressive assemblage. Quickly, 
                         he takes his hat back off. Then he smiles 
                         nervously and starts forward.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Hi, folks!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ? 11 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         CONTINUATION, SCENE 25
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Grayson comes forward to meet him, attempting 
                         to be very cordial. Bingy is seized 
                         by a sudden impulse to sneeze. He does 
                         so, violently. There is awkward silence. 
                         Mrs. Schuyler throws off a visible shudder.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         What's the matter? Isn't there a 'bless 
                         you' in the crowd?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You're the Tribune man?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yeah, hello. How are you?
<b>                                     
</b>                         Bingy extends his hand. Grayson pointedly 
                         ignores it.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (cordially)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Fine. Have a seat.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Thanks, I will.
<b>                                     
</b>                         Bingy crosses the room, taking note 
                         of the beauteous Anne.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         This way.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, man!
<b>                                     
</b>                         Bingy sits gingerly on the edge of a 
                         handsome chair.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, boy!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         26. MEDIUM CLOSE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Bingy and Grayson. Grayson picks up 
                         a very flossy and expensive cigarette 
                         box from the small end table beside 
                         the chair. It is made of gold and semi-precious 
                         stones are inset in the cover. Grayson 
                         opens the lid and takes out a cigarette, 
                         but pointedly does not offer one to 
                         Bingy.
<b>                                      
</b>                         Grayson remains standing before the 
                         reporter, who is very uncomfortable 
                         and ill at ease.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Fine newspaper the Tribune.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Well, I should say!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I knew your managing editor very well.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Is that so?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yale '21, I believe.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ? 12 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (uncomprehending)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Huh?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         We were classmates.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         27. CLOSE SHOT - MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         She clears her throat menacingly, as 
                         she looks sternly at Grayson.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Ahem!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         What's the matter? She got a cold?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         CONTINUATION, SCENE 26
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Bingy and Grayson. Both look over. Grayson 
                         gives her a quick reassuring glance, 
                         as though to say "leave it to me now." 
                         He continues his conversation with the 
                         reporter.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I got him his job on the paper. I'm 
                         a stock-holder, you know.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Is that so?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         As one Tribune man to another
<b>                                     
</b>                         He laughs.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (laughs)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Yeah!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         But right now I'm acting in the capacity 
                         of Mrs. Schuyler's attorney.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, that's all right with me. I won't 
                         hold it against you. But you see, I'm 
                         here to find out about
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I know, I know. But there's no truth 
                         in the story whatsoever.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh yeah?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         28. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Grayson and Bingy. He takes Bingy by 
                         the arm and leads him over to a corner 
                         of the room, assuming a confidential 
                         pose.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (speaking as they walk)
<b>                                     
</b>                         However, I've taken the trouble to prepare 
                         a little statement. Here it is. Here.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ? 13 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         29. CLOSER TWO SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Grayson and Bingy. Grayson takes an 
                         envelope out of his pocket and hands 
                         it to Bingy. Bingy opens the flap and 
                         sees the contents.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         INSERT: ENVELOPE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         The corner of a fifty dollar bill protrudes.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         BACK TO SCENE:
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Bingy quickly shuts the envelope up. 
                         Grayson is watching him closely.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         So, you see how silly that rumor is?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Why, sure. It's a lotta hooey.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         That's what I wanted to say, but I couldn't 
                         think of it.
<b>                                      
</b>                         Grayson starts leading him toward the 
                         door. CAMERA PANS WITH THEM as Grayson 
                         leads him toward the door, talking as 
                         they walk.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Thank you very much.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         All right, all right, don't mention 
                         it.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Give my regards to your managing editor.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I certainly will.
<b>                                     
</b>                         They stop at the door. Bingy extends 
                         a handshake, which is again refused. 
                         He stops and looks back at the jury.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         30. MEDIUM SHOT FROM HIS ANGLE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         The Schuylers all sitting silently and 
                         contemplating him.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Well, so long folks!
<b>                                     
</b>                         He flutters his eyes at Anne.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Thanks!
<b>                                     
</b>                         He takes one last look at Mrs. Schuyler 
                         and is again gripped by a violent sneeze.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (rising to the occasion)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Uh, bless you!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ALL
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Bless you!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Thanks.
<b>                                     
</b>                         The butler appears in the doorway behind 
                         him. Bingy exits past him, beaming.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ? 14 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (waving to butler)
<b>                                     
</b>                         So long!
<b>                                     
</b>                         Grayson nods to the butler.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Smythe, bring in the other reporter.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yes, sir.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         31. INT. SCHUYLER DRAWING ROOM - MEDIUM 
</b><b>                         FULL SHOT
</b><b>                                      
</b>                         The group awaiting the advent of the 
                         Post reporter. Stew is shown in by the 
                         butler, still carrying the Conrad book 
                         in his hand. They give him the once-over. 
                         Mrs. Schuyler raises her lorgnette with 
                         a magnificent gesture. Stew eyes them 
                         with animation, not in the slightest 
                         discouraged by this supercilious scrutiny. 
                         He starts toward them.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         32. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         As Stew approaches them.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Schuyler's the name, I presume? Yes, 
                         thank you, thank you. My name's Smith 
                         - Stewart Smith. No relation to John, 
                         Joe, Trade or Mark. Of course you can't 
                         have everything.
<b>                                      
</b>                         He smiles engagingly on them. Stew addresses 
                         Mrs. Schuyler ingratiatingly, disregarding 
                         her expression of obvious distaste.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Nice set of Conrads you have out there, 
                         Mrs. Schuyler. I was just glancing through 
                         this one.
<b>                                      
</b>                         (indicates the book in his hand)
<b>                                     
</b>                         What's Michael tearing the paper about?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Just a habit. Mr. Schuyler is a bit 
                         put out by all the rumors going around.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         33. CLOSER SHOT - STEW AND GRAYSON
</b><b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Rumors? Rumors? Since when is a breach-of-promise 
                         case a rumor?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         No breach-of-promise case has been filed. 
                         The matter has been settled out of court.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (very cagey)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Oh I see, but Gloria doesn't seem to 
                         be satisfied with the twenty thousand 
                         dollars.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         34. A MEDIUM SHOT OF GROUP
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         At this, Mrs. Schuyler rises wrathfully.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (furiously to Grayson)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Dexter Grayson, you told me it was only 
                         ten thousandand you didn't even get 
                         those letters from that Jezebel!
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 15 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, so you did give her ten thousand 
                         dollars, eh? and there are letters . 
<b>                         . .
</b><b>                                      
</b>                         Behind Stew's back, Grayson makes violent 
                         gestures for her to shut up.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Well, well. That takes it out of the 
                         rumor class, doesn't it?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         We admit nothing. However, I have a 
                         little statement all prepared.
<b>                                      
</b>                         He takes Stew's arm and walks him off 
                         toward a corner much in the same manner 
                         as he handled Bingy, and lowers his 
                         voice confidentially.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         35. CLOSER SHOT - STEW AND GRAYSON
</b><b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Apart from the others.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         A statement? Good.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I have it here.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Good.
<b>                                     
</b>                         Grayson takes an envelope out of his 
                         pocket and hands it to Stew. Stew puts 
                         the book under his arm, takes the envelope 
                         and extracts the contents. It is another 
                         greenback.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (with interest)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Fifty bucks, eh?
<b>                                     
</b>                         He regards it a moment, then replaces 
                         the bill in the envelope. His voice 
                         is matter-of-fact, and almost casual.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Don't you know you should never offer 
                         a newspaper man more than two dollars? 
                         If you do, he'll think it's counterfeit. 
                         I don't need fifty dollars. As a matter 
                         of fact, I've got fifty dollars.
<b>                                      
</b>                         Grayson is considerably disconcerted. 
                         He tries again.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         The man from the Tribune seemed perfectly 
                         satisfied.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Who, Bingy? Yeah, Bingy would. He never 
                         saw fifty dollars 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.
<b>                                      
</b>                         He hands the envelope back to Grayson 
                         and turns away.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 16 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         36. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Schuyler group - taking his action with 
                         dismay. Stew starts walking back toward 
                         them, talking as he walks, Grayson beside 
                         him, considerably distracted.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         So ten grand was the amount you gave 
                         the girl? Any other statement you folks 
                         would like to make?
<b>                                      
</b>                         There is an explosive chorus from the 
                         group.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GROUP
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (ad-lib talking at the same time)
<b>                                     
</b>                         That's not so!
<b>                                     
</b>                         We have nothing more to say!
<b>                                     
</b>                         We'll make no statements.
<b>                                     
</b>                         He turns to them, holding up his hand 
                         and speaking plaintively.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Wait a minute. Don't get excited. I 
                         wouldn't worry about it. A little publicity 
                         never hurt anybody.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         37. CLOSE SHOT - MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         She is on the point of an apopletic 
                         stroke. She advances menacingly toward 
                         Stew. She calls to Grayson.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (shrieking at him)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Dexter, have this person leave immediately.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         38. MEDIUM SHOT - THE GROUP
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew is not at all perturbed. Dexter 
                         takes him by the arm and starts to lead 
                         him out.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I think you'd better go.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Go?! Wait a minute - that's a great 
                         story! Newspaper reporter was forcibly 
                         ejected from Schuyler Mansion, and
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Anne comes up to him.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Wait a minute
<b>                                     
</b>                         He faces her and cannot help but register 
                         an appreciation of her beauty.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Don't mind Mother.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (cheerfully)
<b>                                     
</b>                         I don't mind her if you don't.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         CONTINUATION SCENE 37
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Mrs. Schuyler, almost choking in her 
                         wrath at this outrageous stranger.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ? 17 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Anne!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         39. CLOSE SHOT - ANNE AND STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Anne stifles a smile at this cheerful 
                         insolence.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I'm sure you're quite willing to be 
                         decent about this.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Decent? Why Miss Schuyler, I want to 
                         be noble.
<b>                                      
</b>                         Anne continues in her most devastating 
                         manner.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You're not going to print this silly 
                         thing, are you?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (noncomittally)
<b>                                     
</b>                         No? Why not?
<b>                                     
</b>                         She puts her hand lightly on his arm.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Because my name's Schuyler too. And 
                         I haven't done a thing, but I'll suffer 
                         with Michael. And so will Mother.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         40. CLOSEUP - STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         He has been listening to this and enjoying 
                         it immensely. He looks over at Mrs. 
                         Schuyler.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         41. REVERSE ANGLE ON MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Who is making a show of holding back 
                         a flood of tears.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CONTINUATION SCENE 40
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Mother's suffering already!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         CONTINUATION SCENE 39
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Anne, not wanting to lose her point, 
                         looks up at Stew pleadingly.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         As a special favor to me, you won't 
                         print that story, will you?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CONTINUATION SCENE 40
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew, looking down at her in frank approval 
                         and admiration.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (pleading)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Please
<b>                                     
</b>                         Stew hesitates still.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         42. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Mrs. Schuyler, Michael, and Grayson. 
                         All watching the couple intently, hanging 
                         on the next wordswondering if Anne 
                         is going to succeed. They are tense 
                         and expectant.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 18 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         43. CLOSE SHOT - ANNE AND STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         He is looking down into her soft, melting 
                         eyes. Then he smiles.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You know something, lady, if you sold 
                         life insurance, I'd go for a policy 
                         in sixty seconds.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, thank you, I knew you'd understand.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         CONTINUATION SCENE 42
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         The three. They relax and exchange relieved 
                         and triumphant glances. Apparently Anne 
                         has won.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         44. MEDIUM SHOT - ENTIRE GROUP
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew turns aside.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         May I use your telephone?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (eagerly)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Certainly. Right over there.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You're all right.
<b>                                     
</b>                         She indicates. Stew starts for the telephone. 
                         Anne walks to her mother's side. Stew 
                         gets to the telephone and picks up the 
                         receiver.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Hello, Beekman 1300?
<b>                                     
</b>                         (he turns to wink at the group)
<b>                                     
</b>                         That's an unlucky number. You know that, 
                         don't you?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         45. CLOSE SHOT - STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         At the telephone. He turns back to the 
                         instrument as he gets his connection.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (into phone)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Hello, Toots? Is Conroy there? Give 
                         me Conroy.
<b>                                      
</b>                         (pause)
<b>                                     
</b>                         He isn't? Try the washroom, will you?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         While he waits for the connection, he 
                         turns and addresses the group expansively.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Say, I interviewed a swell guy the other 
                         day - Einstein. Swell guy, a little 
                         eccentric, but swell. Doesn't wear any 
                         garters. Neither do I as a matter of 
                         fact. What good are garters anyway?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         (he turns back to the phone)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Hello, Conroy? This is Smith talking. 
                         I'm up at the Schuylers. No, I'm not 
                         having tea - that is, not yet.
<b>                                      
</b>                         (again, he winks expansively at the 
                         groupthen returns to Conroy)
<b>                                      
</b>                         Is she beautiful? Oh boss, her pictures 
                         don't do her justice. If I was that 
                         guy Ziegfield - what?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 19 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         46. CLOSE SHOT - ANNE AND MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Anne smiles in spite of herself at this 
                         flattery. Stew's voice goes on.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW'S VOICE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yes, it's easy to see where her beauty 
                         comes from. From her mother.
<b>                                      
</b>                         For the first time, Mrs. Schuyler unbends 
                         to the extent of giving forth a smile. 
                         She cannot help but be pleased at this 
                         compliment. The atmosphere is now very 
                         friendly. Everybody feels that everything 
                         is all right.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CONTINUATION SCENE 45
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew at the phone
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Now wait a minute. Just hold on. Keep 
                         your shirt on. I'm coming to that. The 
                         Schuylers admit the story is true. Right. 
                         They gave the gal ten thousand bucks. 
                         But she's got some letters - and she's 
                         holding out for more dough - and it 
                         looks to me like she's going to get 
                         it.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         47. MEDIUM SHOT - SCHUYLER GROUP
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Horrified and shocked at this betrayal 
                         and double-crossing.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (on the phonebreezily)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Right boss. I'll be right over. Right 
                         - no, I don't think I can get any pictures 
                         now. Right.
<b>                                      
</b>                         He casually hangs up and turns from 
                         the phone.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (involuntary gasp)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Oh-h-h . . .!
<b>                                     
</b>                         Anne confronts him as if he were a reptile 
                         of the lowest order.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (voice cold as ice)
<b>                                     
</b>                         I've met some rotters in my time, but 
                         without a doubt, you're the lowest excuse 
                         for a man I've ever had the misfortune 
                         to meet
<b>                                      
</b>                         Stew starts walking toward the door, 
                         still holding his book. The family is 
                         tremendously indignant and agitated.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Stew stops, turns, looks at them. He 
                         is met by icy glares. He indignantly 
                         takes a nickel out of his pocket and 
                         hands it to Grayson.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (with dignity)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Well, if you feel that way about it, 
                         here's a nickel for the phone call.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         He glares at themturns and walks out.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         They watch him walk out, stunned and 
                         open-mouthed.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         FADE OUT:
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         ? 20 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         FADE IN: DAY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         INSERT: Dingy board sign outside a building.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         JOE'S
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         LAP DISSOLVE TO:
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         INSERT: Three column heading in newspaper:
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         SCHUYLER HEIR SETTLES
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         BREACH OF PROMISE
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         SUIT FOR $10,000.
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Gloria Golden, Follies Beauty,
<b>                                     
</b>                         Retains Love Letters.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         LAP DISSOLVE TO:
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         INT. JOE'S SPEAKEASY - DAY
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         48. MEDIUM FULL SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         A reasonably respectable speakeasy, 
                         smoke-filled. Quite a number of men 
                         and a few women are leaning on the bar 
                         and seated around at the tables. Stew 
                         and Gallagher are seated at one of the 
                         rude round tables, smoking, drinks before 
                         them. Gallagher is reading the newspaper 
                         story.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         49. CLOSE SHOT - STEW AND GALLAGHER
</b><b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         She is grinning at the story.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         and she walked up to me and put her 
                         hand on my shoulder and said,
<b>                                      
</b>                         (mimicking Anne)
<b>                                     
</b>                         'Mr. Smith, You wouldn't print that 
                         story, would you?' Oh no, I wouldn't 
                         print it - read it!
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         50. CLOSE SHOT - GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Over Stew's shoulder. She laughs at 
                         his attempted imitation.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You're sure going to be poison to that 
                         Junior Leaguer[4] from now on!
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I hope not . . . I've got to call on 
                         her this morning!
<b>                                      
</b>                         Gallagher looks up in astonishment.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You what?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Sure, I must drop in on the mad wench. 
                         Her wounds need soothing.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         For heaven's sake, Stew, are you completely 
                         bats? What for? I thought the story 
                         was cold. You can't go back there.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Sure, the story is cold, but I'm not. 
                         I'm sizzling - look! Psst!
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 21 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         He moistens a finger, touches it to 
                         his wrist, and makes a sizzle noise.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Gallagher looks over quizzicallya little 
                         suspiciousa little jealous.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (a drawn-out knowing utterance)
<b>                                     
</b>                         O-o-oh! Came the dawn, came the dawn!
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         51. CLOSE SHOT - STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Over Gallagher's shoulder.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         And with it came love! Oh Gallagher, 
                         you've got to meet her. She's it
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         and that
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (enthusing)
<b>                                     
</b>                         and those and them.
<b>                                     
</b>                         Gallagher takes a sip of her drink before 
                         answering.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Well, I've seen her pictures, and I 
                         don't think she's so hot.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (disparaging gesture)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, you don't appreciate it. Her pictures 
                         don't do her justice. Why, Gallagher, 
                         she's queenly - she is queenly - and 
                         I know queens!
<b>                                      
</b>                         (continues in exaltation)
<b>                                     
</b>                         And oh, has she got herself a nose - 
                         and I know noses too. That little snozzle 
                         of hers is the berries, I tell you. 
                         And is she cute when she throws that 
                         little snozzle to the high heavens!
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         52. DOUBLE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Of course I haven't got a nose.
<b>                                     
</b>                         Stew gives her a hurt look.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (shaking his head)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Sure, sure. You've got a nose, Gallagher. 
                         You've got a nose. But there's different 
                         women, Gallagher. You know, like brewery 
                         horses and thoroughbreds.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (deliberately misunderstanding)
<b>                                     
</b>                         On now, Stew, don't be too hard on her. 
                         I wouldn't call her a brewery horse.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Gallagher! She's the real McCoy!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ? 22 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         And the rest of us are truck horses?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (reproachfully)
<b>                                     
</b>                         There you go, talking like a woman!
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (a trifle resentfully)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Well!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Well, you're my pal, aren't you? Then 
                         don't turn female on me.
<b>                                      
</b>                         During these last few speeches, Gallagher 
                         has been regarding him with a curious 
                         expression. She loves being his pal, 
                         but wishes he would realize she is also 
                         a woman.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         53. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew seems a little resentful of her 
                         attitude. He rises.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Pay that check, will you Gallagher? 
                         I'll give it back to you some time. 
                         Maybe.
<b>                                      
</b>                         He flourishes the book of Conrad, which 
                         has been lying on the table in front 
                         of him, and makes a grand gesture.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I go now - I go with Conrad in quest 
                         of my youth! Fry those tomatoes, will 
                         you, Gallagher?
<b>                                      
</b>                         He strikes a poseand exits.
<b>                                     
</b>                         Gallagher, sits, looking after him, 
                         considerably disturbed.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         54. CLOSER SHOT - GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Sitting, looking dismally after Stew.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         She opens her bag and takes out a mirror, 
                         surveying herself with frank disapproval. 
                         She pulls out a curl of hair before 
                         each ear, tries to soften the severe 
                         brim of the hat. She puts a finger to 
                         the tip of her nose and tilts it up, 
                         studying the effect. Then, with a sigh 
                         of disgust, she throws mirror and bag 
                         onto the table.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         LAP DISSOLVE TO:
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         55. INT. SCHUYLER ENTRANCE HALL - DAY 
</b><b>                         - LONG SHOT
</b><b>                                      
</b>                         Smythe, the butler, previously introduced, 
                         comes from the direction of the rear 
                         of the house, and proceeds down the 
                         long, vast hallway towards the front 
                         door. The bell keeps ringing steadily.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         The butler reaches the wide front door.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         56. CLOSER SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         As the butler opens the door and reveals 
                         Stew standing outside, hatless, a book 
                         in his hand, a spring overcoat slightly 
                         askew, the pockets bulging with contents. 
                         The butler quickly tries to slam the 
                         door in Stew's face, but Stew's right 
                         foot comes forward with a practiced 
                         newspaperman's gesture and he forces 
                         his way into the room.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 23 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (reproachfully)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Now, now Jeeves.[5] Was that nice? Was 
                         that being a gentleman, Jeeves? Was 
                         it, Jeeves? Your name is Jeeves, isn't 
                         it?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (stiffly)
<b>                                     
</b>                         The name is Smythe.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Smythe! Well, well, well! With a Y , 
                         huh?
<b>                                      
</b>                         (wags his head)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Congratulations! What a small world. 
                         Brothers under livery. Shake!
<b>                                      
</b>                         (he grabs the butler's hand)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Now, as a Smith to a Smythe
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (glacially)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Mrs. Schuyler is not at home.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         57. TWO SHOT - ANOTHER ANGLE
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I know, I know. I waited outside till 
                         she went out. She's a very nice lady, 
                         but we don't vibrate well together.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         58. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Anne, dressed in smart sports clothes, 
                         starts to cross thru the hall. She stops 
                         as she sees the butler engaged in conversation 
                         with Stew.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (hollowly)
<b>                                     
</b>                         No one's at home, sir.
<b>                                     
</b>                         Anne starts walking toward them. Stew 
                         spots her.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Now Jeeves, what would you call this 
                         - 'no one'?
<b>                                      
</b>                         Anne comes up to them.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         59. CLOSER THREE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Anne looks up and sees that the butler 
                         is frowning and uncomfortable and addresses 
                         him.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         What's wrong?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Mrs. Schuyler left orders, Miss, that 
                         if this person came here again, I was 
                         to call the police.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         That's a good idea - telephone the police. 
                         The number is Spring 3100. Get a couple 
                         of cops over and we can have a rubber 
                         of bridge.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You may go, Smythe.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ? 24 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         But I
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Now the lady said you may go
<b>                                     
</b>                         The butler bows stiffly and exits.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (to Stewdirectly)
<b>                                     
</b>                         What do you want?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Well, I tell you, yesterday when I was 
                         here, I had one of your books in my 
                         hand, and when I got outside, I realized 
                         I still had your book in my hand. So 
                         as long as I had your book in my hand, 
                         I thought I might as well take it home 
                         and read it. This morning, I got up 
                         and put your book in my hand, and here's 
                         your book in your hand.
<b>                                      
</b>                         He extends the Conrad book, and Anne, 
                         making no effort to take it, he throws 
                         it on the table.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (haughty)
<b>                                     
</b>                         That's considerate of you.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yeah, that was considerate of me. I 
                         recommend you read it.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         60. CLOSER TWO SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (stiffly)
<b>                                     
</b>                         I'm not interested in your literary 
                         recommendations.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Well, maybe it's a bit heavy for you. 
                         Perhaps if you'd like something lighter 
                         - something with a touch of romance
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         He takes a package of letters out of 
                         his overcoat pocket held together by 
                         a rubber band. He extracts one of them 
                         and opens it.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Just listen to this
<b>                                     
</b>                         (reading)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Adorable Babykins
<b>                                     
</b>                         Does her miss her Baby? Him sends his 
                         booful li'l sweetums a billion oceans 
                         full of kisses. Bobo is so lonely!
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (interrupting coldly)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Just a moment. I don't see how that 
                         trash could possibly concern me.
<b>                                      
</b>                         Stew advances a little closer, putting 
                         up a finger.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 25 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (mysteriously)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Ah! But you don't know who Bobo is. 
                         And you don't know who Babykins is.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I'm not interested. Smythe will open 
                         the door.
<b>                                      
</b>                         She begins to walk away.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (brightly)
<b>                                     
</b>                         But Bobo is your brother, Michael. And 
                         of course nobody would ever guess who 
                         Babykins is.
<b>                                      
</b>                         Anne turns and stares at him, incredulously, 
                         for a moment.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Where did you get those letters?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I stole them when I was interviewing 
                         Babykins about Bobo.
<b>                                      
</b>                         Anne looks up coldly.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I suppose you're going to print them?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         No - give you another guess.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         61. MEDIUM CLOSE SHOT (TRUCK SHOT)
</b><b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         The two.
<b>                                     
</b>                         Anne surveys him with frank scorn and 
                         dislike.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (scornfully)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, I don't need another guess. It's 
                         quite obvious.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         So, it's obvious, huh?
<b>                                     
</b>                         She turns toward the library.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Will you step into the library?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (with alacrity)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Sure, I'll take a chance.
<b>                                     
</b>                         Anne walks majestically with head held 
                         highthru the hallthru the living room 
                         and to the library. CAMERA TRUCKING 
                         AHEAD OF THEM. This is a very long walk 
                         with Anne walking ahead, Stew trailing.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (while walking with Anne single file)
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         You know, the Indians used to walk like 
                         this.
<b>                                      
</b>                         (pause)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Except the squaw always walked in the 
                         back
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 26 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (pause)
<b>                                     
</b>                         You know why that was? That was in case 
                         of attack from the front.
<b>                                      
</b>                         (pause)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Of course, if the attack was from the 
                         rear, she had to depend upon her papoose.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         (pause)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Oh yes, the papooses always had bows 
                         and arrows.
<b>                                      
</b>                         (pause)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Of course, if she wasn't marriedthen 
                         she'd have to protect her own - er, 
                         er
<b>                                      
</b>                         (indicates rear with thumb over shoulder)
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         (still walking)
<b>                                     
</b>                         What country is this library in?
<b>                                     
</b>                         (pause)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Miss Schuyler, how about carfare back 
                         to the front door, huh?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         62. INT. SCHUYLER LIBRARY - MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Anne sweeps in, followed by Stew. She 
                         walks directly to a desk, opens a drawer 
                         and takes out a large check book. She 
                         draws up a chair and seats herself.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         63. CLOSE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Anne at the desk, starting to fill in 
                         the date on a blank check.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         What are your initials - Mr. - er
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         64. CLOSE SHOT - STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Who has remained standing. He is watching 
                         her with a peculiar expression.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Smith. Stewart Smith. My friends call 
                         me Stew. It's an injustice too because 
                         I hold my liquor all right.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CONTINUATION SCENE 63
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Anne writes on the check. Then she looks 
                         up.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Will - uh - five thousand be enough?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         65. DOUBLE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         For what?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         For the letters, of course.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         66. MEDIUM CLOSE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         As Stew walks closer and addreses her.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Gee, 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.
<b>                                      
</b>                         (hands her the letters)
<b>                                     
</b>                         They're yours.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ? 27 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Anne has been listening to him with 
                         a puzzled expression, impressed by his 
                         obvious sincerity.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I don't know how to thank you. Mother'll 
                         be so grateful - she'll probably want 
                         to kiss you.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Your mother will want to kiss me? Give 
                         me back my letters.
<b>                                      
</b>                         (grabs the letters)
<b>                                     
</b>                         That's the breaks I get. It's the mothers 
                         that are always grateful to me.
<b>                                      
</b>                         (with a smile, he hands the letters 
                         back)
<b>                                      
</b>                         Here.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You're a peculiar person. Why the other 
                         day I pleaded with you not to send in 
                         that story and 
<b>                                      
</b>                         (gestures with letters)
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         67. CLOSE TWO SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (patiently again)
<b>                                     
</b>                         I know but that was news. This is blackmail 
                         and I don't like blackmail.
<b>                                      
</b>                         Anne is regarding him with searching 
                         scrutiny. She smiles. Her icy, belligerent 
                         attitude has vanished.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I won't even pretend it isn't a very 
                         great favor. I wish there was something 
                         I could do for you
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Well, you could make this table a little 
                         - uh - a little less wide.
<b>                                      
</b>                         (he leans over closer to her)
<b>                                     
</b>                         There is something you can do for me, 
                         Miss Schuyler.
<b>                                      
</b>                         The smile goes out of Anne's eyesthe 
                         suspicion returnsshe is saying to herself"I 
                         was right the first time!"
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (engagingly)
<b>                                     
</b>                         I haven't had any lunch yet. Have you 
                         got anything in the icebox?
<b>                                      
</b>                         The hard, disdainful look leaves Anne's 
                         face as she stares at this incredible 
                         guy with his incredible request. With 
                         a twinkle in her eyes, she responds:
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, you fool!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         LAP DISSOLVE TO:
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         INT. SCHUYLER DINING ROOM
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         68. MED. FULL SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         A lovely, sunny room, cretonne drapes 
                         and colorful painted furniture. Stew 
                         and Anne are sitting at the table. Anne 
                         looks amused and
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 28 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         definitely speculative. Stew has the 
                         manner of having lived in this house 
                         all his life. He draws the cup of tea 
                         to him and puts in a lump or two of 
                         sugar.
<b>                                      
</b>                         Between him and Anne on the corner of 
                         the table is a modernistic, squatty 
                         little tea-pot.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         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.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         69. CLOSE TWO SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Anne is casually amused.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Really?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yeah, I haven't figured out the plot 
                         yet, but it's laid in a Siberian village.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You're a bit eccentric, aren't you?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Me? No - most ordinary guy in the world, 
                         me. Only one thing wrong with me
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You don't wear garters!
<b>                                     
</b>                         Stew helps himself to another lump of 
                         sugar.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Naw, that's just a symbol of my independence.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         He leans closer, looking directly into 
                         her face.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I'm color blind. That's what's wrong 
                         - I'm color 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.
<b>                                      
</b>                         Anne smiles at this unexpected statement, 
                         and stares at him very critically.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I'm just beginning to believe that something 
                         could be done with you.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Say, you could do anything with me you 
                         wanted to. Putty - just putty, that's 
                         me.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (leaning closer)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Now getting back to those eyes of yours 
                         - would you mind if I kind of got closer 
                         so I could see them?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 29 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Not if you're going to lose any sleep 
                         about it.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         70. CLOSE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         He gets closer, takes her chin in his 
                         hand and gets an eyeful.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Now, how would you like themopen like 
                         this?
<b>                                      
</b>                         She smiles radiantly.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Close them both.
<b>                                     
</b>                         (getting warm)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Something tells me I'd better leave.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         During the last speech Mrs. Schuyler 
                         enters and stops in the doorway, surveying 
                         this astonishing scene with stupefied 
                         indignation and rage.
<b>                                      
</b>                         Anne gets quickly to her feet as Mrs. 
                         Schuyler sails forward.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         That's an excellent idea.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, hello Mother!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (easily)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Hello - hello, Mrs. Schuyler. Come right 
                         in. Will you have a slug of tea?
<b>                                      
</b>                         He hospitably indicates the table. Mrs. 
                         Schuyler is speechless with fury. She 
                         does not immediately reply. Then:
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         What is this person doing here?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Why
<b>                                     
</b>                         Stew goes on.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         As a matter of fact, I was just trying 
                         to decide the color of Anne's eyes. 
                         I can't tell whether they're blue, or 
                         whether they're violet. What would you 
                         say, Mrs. Schuyler?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (bursting)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Why
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (quickly)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Don't say it, Mother, please. Mr. Smith 
                         came here today to do us a great favor.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         71. CLOSER SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Anne, Mrs. Schuyler and Stew. Mrs. Schuyler, 
                         with an effort, restraining her impulse 
                         to yank Stew out by the collar, speaks:
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ? 30 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (bursting with wrath)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Indeed? Perhaps he will do me a great 
                         favor.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (elaborate bow)
<b>                                     
</b>                         With pleasure, Madame!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Get out of here.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (distressed)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, Mother!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (with dignity)
<b>                                     
</b>                         It's all right. It's all right, Anne. 
                         I can take a hint. A bit subtle, but 
                         I get it. It's all right.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Please go. I'll explain to Mother.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         He steps close to Mrs. Schuyler's side.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         The caviar was lovely, Madam.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         72. WIDER SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew starts to the door, smiles at Anne, 
                         and remarks to Mrs. Schuyler as he passes 
                         her:
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You must come over and see us sometime.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Mrs. Schuyler freezes in inarticulate 
                         anger, as Stew gives a courtly bow and 
                         exits.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         FADE OUT
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         FADE IN
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         INT. SCHUYLER DRAWING ROOM - NIGHT
</b><b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         73. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Anne in a stunning evening dress is 
                         seated, a cocktail in one hand, cigarette 
                         in the other. Dexter Grayson, in evening 
                         clothes, is standing before her.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Where were you yesterday?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         74. CLOSE SHOT - ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         She has a faraway, speculative look 
                         in her eyes.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, Stew and I went for a long ride.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         (dreamily)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Dexter, is there any finishing school 
                         we can send him to?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 31 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         75. CLOSE SHOT - GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (witheringly)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Yes - Sing Sing.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         CONTINUATION SCENE 74
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Anne. She ignores this crack.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Just the same, he's going to be a different 
                         person when I get through with him.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         CONTINUATION SCENE 75
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Grayson. He is looking at her, deeply 
                         disturbed.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         When you get through with him?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         76. DOUBLE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yes, it'll be a very interesting experiment.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (sneering)
<b>                                     
</b>                         To make a gentleman out of a tramp?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Exactly.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Now, Anne, you remember how much it 
                         cost to get rid of that baseball player?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You don't seem to understand that this 
                         one's different. He has brains.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         77. MED. CLOSE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Grayson seats himself beside her on 
                         the divan.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (fervently)
<b>                                     
</b>                         But what about me, Anne?
<b>                                     
</b>                         She looks at him coldly with almost 
                         an expression of dislike.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You? Oh, don't go serious on me, Dexter.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         LAP DISSOLVE TO:
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         INT. PENTHOUSE APT. - NIGHT
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         78. MED. SHOT TRUCKING
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         An elaborate, modernistic roof apartment, 
                         thronged with people all in evening 
                         dress. Stew and Anne are walking down 
                         among them. Anne is radiant, and Stew 
                         is happily guiding her among the stuffed 
                         shirts. Anne stops before a group. There 
                         is the sound of conversation, laughter, 
                         clink of glasses, music from stringed 
                         invisible orchestra, etc.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 32 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Hello, Natalie. Mr. Stewart Smith . 
                         . . Miss Montgomery, Mrs. Eames, Mrs. 
                         Radcliff, Mr. Radcliff
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         How-di-do.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         GROUP
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (ad-lib acknowledgements)
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         79. MED. CLOSE SHOT - DEXTER GRAYSON
</b><b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Standing, helping himself to a cocktail, 
                         which a footman is passing about. Dexter 
                         looks off with a frown of disapproval.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         80. CLOSE SHOT - GROUP OF WOMEN
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         They are looking off in Anne's direction.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         FIRST WOMAN
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Say, who's Anne's new boyfriend?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         SECOND WOMAN
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Well, if these old ears don't deceive 
                         me, I believe his name is Smith.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         FIRST WOMAN
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Smith! Can't be one of the brothers 
                         - he hasn't a beard on.[6]
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         SECOND WOMAN
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Well, he must have something if Anne 
                         has got her clutches on him.
<b>                                      
</b>                         There is the sound of a piano chord 
                         being struck.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         81. MED. FULL SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Mrs. Baxter, the hostess, is standing 
                         importantly by the grand piano at which 
                         is seated an anaemic-looking young man. 
                         Beside her stands a stout, swarthy Italian 
                         with bristling mustachios. Mrs. Baxter 
                         bows toward the swarthy one, who bends 
                         almost double in acknowledgement. There 
                         is a polite scattering of applause, 
                         and some of the guests seat themselves.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Martini starts to sing.
<b>                                     
</b>                         Unnoticed by the rest, Stew and Anne 
                         slip out of the door into the roof garden.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         EXT. ROOF GARDEN
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         82. MED. FULL SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         A most beautiful, romantic spot. Rose 
                         trees in blossom, a vine-covered pergola, 
                         a splashing fountain, a few choice marble 
                         statues, low, deep chairs placed to 
                         make a gorgeous spot. Stew and Anne 
                         enter from the direction of the house. 
                         The garden is dark except for the lights 
                         from the interior of the house. From 
                         within, comes the voice of the singer 
                         rendering an extremely romantic, sentimental 
                         Italian love song. This will continue 
                         to the FADE OUT of the scene.
<b>                                      
</b>                         Stew and Anne walk, still hand in hand, 
                         toward the edge of the pergola where 
                         the shadows are deeper and where a couple 
                         of glorified steamer chairs are placed. 
                         There is a full moon overhead.
<b>                                      
</b>                         She leads him toward a waterfall effect, 
                         a glass partition down which water trickles. 
                         They go behind the dimly lit fountain 
                         and sit
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 33 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         in a low, deep divan. We see them in 
                         silhouette as they go into a passionate 
                         embrace. All we hear is the faint voice 
                         of Martiniand the uninterrupted splashing 
                         of the fountain.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CUT TO:
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         83. CLOSEUP - ANNE & STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         On divan, arms around each other.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Anne, pinch me, will you? Throw me out 
                         of here. Give me the air. Throw me out 
                         of this joint, will you?
<b>                                      
</b>                         Anne smiles happily and pinches his 
                         nose.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Why should I? We're happy, aren't we, 
                         darling?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Throw me out - because I'm beginning 
                         to get goofy ideas, and they concern 
                         you, Anne.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (passionately)
<b>                                     
</b>                         None of your ideas can be goofy, Stew, 
                         if they concern me.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (struggling)
<b>                                     
</b>                         My name is Smith - well, that you seem 
                         to have been able to stand for the last 
                         month. I'm white, male and over twenty-one. 
                         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 
                         seventy-five bucks a week and I've got 
                         eight hundred and forty-seven bucks 
                         in the bank - and - I don't know yet 
                         whether your eyes are blue or violet.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (although he is very close to her)
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         That's because you're too far away, 
                         Stew.
<b>                                      
</b>                         Throughout his speech, Anne never takes 
                         her eyes off him. As he fumbles now, 
                         he turns. Their eyes meet. His overwhelming 
                         desire for Anne overcomes him.
<b>                                      
</b>                         He dismisses as futile his effort to 
                         be practical, sweeps her into his arms 
                         and kisses her passionately.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         FADE OUT:
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         FADE IN
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         INT. CITY ROOM OF MORNING POST - DAY
</b><b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         84. MEDIUM FULL SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Typical atmosphere, as before.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         LAP DISSOLVE TO:
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         85. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Featuring Stew at his desk, which is 
                         directly in front of the battery of 
                         Morkrums whose clatter comes into the 
                         sound track.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 34 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew finishes up a phone call. He sits 
                         at his desk, staring pensively at his 
                         typewriter. He is smoking a pipe and 
                         is in his shirt-sleeves. His hair is 
                         rumpled, and strewn over the desk is 
                         a bunch of crumpled up pieces of paper, 
                         indicating that he has made numerous 
                         unsuccessful starts at writing something. 
                         A fresh blank sheet of paper is now 
                         in the typewriter.
<b>                                      
</b>                         Nearby, at another desk, asleep in a 
                         swivel chair, with his feet elevated 
                         to the desk, the low snoring of another 
                         reporter blends with the sounds of the 
                         Morkrums and other noises of the City 
                         Room. At the reporter's elbow is a telephone.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         86. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Desk of Conroy, the City Editor. A small 
                         upright plate on his desk indicates 
                         his position. This is near the copy 
                         desk. Characteristic activities are 
                         background for any action that may take 
                         place. Reporters come up to throw their 
                         stories on Conroy's desk; the phone 
                         rings, etc.
<b>                                      
</b>                         A boy comes in with a large number of 
                         newspapers under his arm which he throws 
                         on Conroy's desk. There are several 
                         copies of each of the rival newspapers 
                         in town. Conroy spreads them out and 
                         begins to examine them.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         87. CLOSE SHOT - STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         It is evident that he is nervous and 
                         jumpy about something. Finally he starts 
                         to pound the typewriter.
<b>                                      
</b>                         INSERT: Sheet of paper in typewriter 
                         on which is being typed.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ACT 1
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         SCENE 1
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         A STREET IN ARABY
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         88. CLOSE SHOT - GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         As she talks on the phone to one of 
                         her girlfriends
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (sotto voce)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Sure I got a new dress. A new hat too. 
                         (listens) Well, I'll try to get Stew 
                         to come with me. (she glances in his 
                         direction) Yeah - he's all right. You 
                         know, he thinks he's stuck on some society 
                         gal. (listens) Naw, it won't last. It 
                         better not last!
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         89. CLOSER SHOT - CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Hastily glancing over the headlines 
                         of the papers. The phone rings. Without 
                         looking at it, Conroy answers:
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         What? Oh, I'll be surprised, eh? Listen 
                         if there's any news in that sheet that 
                         I haven't thrown in the wastepaper basket, 
                         I'll eat it.
<b>                                      
</b>                         He is looking down at the papers and 
                         suddenly his eyes focus on something 
                         which causes the cigar to drop from 
                         his mouth and an expression of mingled 
                         amazement and rage comes into his face. 
                         We do not see at this point what it 
                         is he has read, but we know it must 
                         be something sensational. Abruptly he 
                         hangs up the phone.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 35 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         CUT TO:
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         CONTINUATION SCENE 87
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew, as he studies his typewriter. 
                         Over his CLOSEUP comes the excited outraged 
                         voice of Conroy.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CONROY'S VOICE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Hey Stew! Stew Smith!
<b>                                     
</b>                         A look of infinite weariness and disgust 
                         comes over Stew's face and he grits 
                         his teeth.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Me?
<b>                                     
</b>                         His general expression registers "Good 
                         god, there he goes again." With one 
                         finger he pounds out four letters:
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         INSERT: Sheet in typewriter: Next to
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         A STREET IN ARABY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew has typed:
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         NUTS
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         He yanks the sheet out of the typewriter.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         CONTINUATION SCENE 89
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Conroy. He looks over and bellows furiously.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You double-crossing hound! Come over 
                         here!
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CONTINUATION SCENE 87
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew gets up from his machine, crumples 
                         the sheet of paper into a wad and flings 
                         it at the sleeping reporter. The wad 
                         strikes him in the face; he wakes abruptly 
                         and automatically reaches for the phone. 
                         He picks up the receiver and in a voice 
                         fogged with sleep calls a number. Stew 
                         exits.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         90. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         At Conroy's desk. Conroy's expression 
                         is one of bitter reproach as he leans 
                         back in his swivel chair as Stew approaches 
                         and stands by the desk.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Now listen boss, if you're going to 
                         kick about that expense account
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (interrupting fiercely)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Do you call yourself a reporter?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         91. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Of other reporters, the older man at 
                         the copy desk, and perhaps a sob sister 
                         or two nearby, who look up with expectant 
                         interest, expecting to hear Stew get 
                         a bawling out.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         92. CLOSE SHOT - GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         At her desk. She looks up worried and 
                         apprehensive.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 36 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         CONTINUATION SCENE 90
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew and Conroy.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         It has been alleged - yes
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You wouldn't know news if you fell into 
                         a mess of it, nose first. So you're 
                         the bright lad that's never been scooped!
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (defensively)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Not on my own beat, no.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (howling so that he can be heard all 
                         over the room)
<b>                                      
</b>                         No? Well, where were you when that happened?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         He slaps the copy of the Tribune furiously 
                         and shoves it into Stew's face.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         93. CLOSE SHOT - STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Not knowing what it is all about, Stew, 
                         with an injured expression, takes the 
                         paper and looks at it.
<b>                                      
</b>                         INSERT: Front page of Tribune
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANN SCHUYLER ELOPES WITH REPORTER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (with subheads giving more explicit 
                         information)
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         94. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         The other reporters, copy readers, sob 
                         sisters, etc., seeing the unusual commotion 
                         and Stew's bewildered reaction, get 
                         out of their chairs and cross over to 
                         the City Desk, where they take up other 
                         copies of the same paper to look at. 
                         There are amazed and excited exclamations.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         95. CLOSER SHOT - STEW AND CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew, still staring dumbly at the paper. 
                         A few others are crowding around, glancing 
                         over his shoulder, etc.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I've heard of people being scooped on 
                         their own funerals, but this! Holy mackerel! 
                         Why, it's news when Anne Schuyler gets 
                         her fingernails manicured, but this! 
                         She gets married to one of our own reporters 
                         and the Tribune beat us to it!
<b>                                      
</b>                         (he notices other reporters milling 
                         around)
<b>                                      
</b>                         Well! What do you guys want? Go on, 
                         get back to your desks. Go back to your 
                         work.
<b>                                      
</b>                         (returning his attention to Stew)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Now don't tell me you were drunk at 
                         the time and don't remember! Or is this 
                         one of Bingy's snow-storms?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         No, no - it's true, all right, only 
                         we didn't want to get it in print yet, 
                         that's all.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Why not?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ? 37 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Well, you see, I've acquired one of 
                         those new mother-in-laws, and we were 
                         afraid she wouldn't understand the whole 
                         idea. So we were going to wait till 
                         she went to Europe.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         What do I care about your mother-in-law! 
                         You're still working for this paper, 
                         aren't you! Or are you?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yes, sir.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Well, it's your business to get news! 
                         And here you had a story right in your 
                         own lap and you let the Tribune scoop 
                         us on it. Making a first class Grade 
                         A monkey out of me. If it ever happens 
                         again - just don't bother about coming 
                         back. That's all.
<b>                                      
</b>                         He dismisses Stew with a wave of his 
                         hand.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Thanks for your congratulations.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         96. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew turns away from Conroy's desk, 
                         and a group of his confreres come up, 
                         surrounding him in a series of ad-lib 
                         congratulations. (Some slightly profane, 
                         pounding him on the back, whooping, 
                         and in general manifesting great surprise 
                         and glee.) This group is increased by 
                         copy readers, office boys and everybody 
                         jabbering and shouting at him.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GROUP
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (ad-lib congratulations)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Stew manages to break thru them and 
                         exits from scene.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         97. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Gallagherto intercut with above scene. 
                         She gets up and goes over, CAMERA PANNING 
                         WITH HER and picks up another copy of 
                         the paper and reads the headlines.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         98. CLOSER SHOT - GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Her face stricken and sick as she reads 
                         about Stew's marriage. Abruptly she 
                         turns away, out of scene.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         99. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         At Gallagher's empty desk. Stew comes 
                         in trying to stave off the mob. He turns 
                         on the congratulators, pushing them 
                         off.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         What's the matter with you mugs? Can't 
                         a guy get married without all this?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         (looks around)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Where's Gallagher? Anybody seen Gallagher?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         He forcibly breaks away from them and 
                         walks back toward the door, the last 
                         of the wisecracks and goodnatured jeers 
                         being flung after him.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 38 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         LAP DISSOLVE TO:
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         INT. JOE'S SPEAKEASY
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         100. MED. CLOSE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Gallagher is seated alone at a table, 
                         looking very forlorn. Her life is suddenly 
                         empty. A drink is in front of her, untouched. 
                         She is fighting hard to keep her emotions 
                         under control.
<b>                                      
</b>                         Stew enters the speakeasy and mingles 
                         with patrons, who offer congratulations. 
                         He comes to a stop by the table. She 
                         looks up, forcing a smile.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Well, well, well! Gallagher, old pal! 
                         There you are. What did you run away 
                         for?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I didn't run away.
<b>                                     
</b>                         Stew draws out the other chair at the 
                         table and sits down.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         101. CLOSER SHOT OF THE TWO
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         He looks across at her, grinning boyishly, 
                         utterly unaware that what he has done 
                         has hurt her deeply.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Sure, you ran away. Aren't you going 
                         to congratulate a guy?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (with sincerity)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Sure. I wish you all the luck in the 
                         world, pal.
<b>                                      
</b>                         She puts her hand tenderly on his.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Thanks, thanks.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I hope you'll be very happy.
<b>                                     
</b>                         Stew expands under the comradeship of 
                         Gallagher. He wants to talk.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh sure, we'll be happy. What's the 
                         matter with your eyes?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         It's the smoke.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (calling to bartender)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Joe! A little snifter.
<b>                                     
</b>                         (returning his attention to Gallagher)
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Say, wasn't I a lucky guy to fall into 
                         a girl like that, huh?
<b>                                      
</b>                         (he notices the newspaper, which Gallagher 
                         has been reading)
<b>                                      
</b>                         Look at that! I don't know how I rate 
                         that, Gallagher. Gosh, there's a swell 
                         girl. I want you to meet her.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 39 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Who me? She wouldn't want to meet me. 
                         I'm just an old load of hay.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         102. CLOSE SHOT - STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         As his drink is served.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Ah! Thank you, Joe.
<b>                                     
</b>                         (returning his attention to Gallagher)
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Tell you what - we'll have one of those 
                         parties down at your house - one of 
                         those spaghetti parties, you know. Gee, 
                         we haven't had one of those in a long 
                         time, have we Gallagher?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         103. CLOSE SHOT OF THE TWO
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (quietly)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Not since you broke into society.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (waxing reminiscent)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Remember the time we had a spaghetti 
                         party, and while I was serving the spaghetti 
                         I dropped it on the floor, and while 
                         those mugs weren't looking, I picked 
                         it up and served it to them anyway! 
                         Remember that? Yes, Anne would love 
                         that.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         104. CLOSE SHOT - GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Looking across at him.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Do you think your wife would walk up 
                         three flights of stairs just to eat 
                         out of paper plates?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         105. DOUBLE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Who - Anne? Sure, Anne would love that.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Remember, she's a Schuyler.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Now get this, Gallagher - Smith. That's 
                         the name.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (murmurs)
<b>                                     
</b>                         My error.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Well, if she doesn't want to come, I'll 
                         come down alone.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (shaking her head)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Oh no, you won't, Mr. Smith. You're 
                         a married man now. Mother always warned 
                         me never to run around with married 
                         men.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 40 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (resentfully)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Say, what kind of a pal are you? You're 
                         not going to leave me flat?
<b>                                      
</b>                         Gallagher tries to be elaborately casual.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, I'll call you up some time. And 
                         if your social duties permit - why -
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Cut that out. Just because I'm married 
                         - there's no reason for that.
<b>                                      
</b>                         Gallagher looks up and off, seeing something 
                         that startles her.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         106. MED. SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Conroy, the City Editor, entering the 
                         speakeasy.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CONTINUATION SCENE 105
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew and Gallagher.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (interrupting in a whisper)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Hey, ixnay - here's the ossbay.[7]
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Stew looks around, also startled.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         107. MED. SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew buries his head in the newspaper, 
                         in pretense of looking for something. 
                         Conroy appears at the table and stops. 
                         He indicates Stew.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         What's the Benedict[8] looking for in 
                         the newspaper - his lost freedom?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Stew slowly sticks his head up over 
                         the top of the table, looking up.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (grinning sheepishly)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Well, if it isn't old Fagin[9] himself.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Conroy sits down at the table.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Gallagher and myself just came over 
                         here to do a little work on a story 
<b>                         -
</b><b>                                      
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (disgustedly)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Baloney!
<b>                                     
</b>                         (calls off)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Joe! Bring me a special!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         108. CLOSER THREE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Gallagher tries to be very bright and 
                         smiling.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (to Conroy)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Isn't it swell about Stew's marriage?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ? 41 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (looking straight at her)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Is it?
<b>                                     
</b>                         Gallagher, self-conscious, realizes 
                         this tough old buzzard is on to her. 
                         She looks back at him for a moment - 
                         then drops her head. Stew is oblivious 
                         to this by-play. Conroy turns to Stew.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Well, when are you quitting?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Quitting? I'm not thinking about quitting.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Joe comes in with a drink for Conroy.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I take it you don't have to work for 
                         a living any more
<b>                                      
</b>                         He takes a sip of his drink and looks 
                         over meaningfully.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Mr. Schuyler .
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (in a flash of anger)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Now get this, Conroy. My name is Smith. 
                         Always was Smith - and always gonna 
                         be Smith.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Is that so?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         That's so.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         109. CLOSEUP - CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         He shows that he is genuinely interested 
                         in Stew and his problems, but can't 
                         help being a little sarcastic.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Anne Schuyler's in the Blue Book - you're 
                         not even in the phone book. Think that 
                         one over, sucker.
<b>                                      
</b>                         CAMERA PANS to CLOSEUP of GALLAGHER.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (quickly in Stew's defense)
<b>                                     
</b>                         That doesn't make any difference
<b>                                     
</b>                         (quietly)
<b>                                     
</b>                         if they love each other.
<b>                                     
</b>                         CAMERA PANS BACK to CLOSEUP of CONROY.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Blah! It's like a giraffe marrying a 
                         monkey.
<b>                                      
</b>                         (looking off at Stew)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Listen - you'll never be anything but 
                         just the reporter that married the Schuyler's 
                         millions. Stew Smith is dead and buried. 
                         From now on, you'll be just Anne Schuyler's 
                         husband. A rich
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 42 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         wife's magnolia. If you can smoke that 
                         without getting sick, you're welcome 
                         to it.
<b>                                      
</b>                         CAMERA PANS to CLOSEUP of STEW:
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER'S VOICE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         But that's perfectly ridiculous.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (defensively)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Wait a minute. Now, Gallagher, let me 
                         do the talking. Get this, Conroy - Anne 
                         Schuyler has got a lot of dough, all 
                         right - and I married her, all right 
                         - but her dough and me? No connection.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         110. MED. CLOSE THREE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Gallagher is looking fixedly at Stew 
                         - very much worried about Conroy's dismal 
                         prophecies. Conroy shakes his head in 
                         sorrowful gloom.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (as if he had not heard Stew)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Just a boid in a gilded cage -[10]
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         A what?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You heard me. A bird in a gilded cage.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Aw, you've been reading a lot of cheap 
                         tabloids. Anne and myself are going 
                         to move downtown in a nice little flat, 
                         we're gonna forget all about this social 
                         stuff, and we're gonna be known as Mr. 
                         and Mrs. Stew Smith. How do you like 
                         that?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (sarcasm)
<b>                                     
</b>                         And live on your salary, I suppose?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yeah, live on my salary - that is, until 
                         I finish writing my play.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (snorts)
<b>                                     
</b>                         What play?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         My play.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         The one about the Siberian bloodhound?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Siberian bloodhound? No. That's been 
                         all rewritten. It's laid in Araby now.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Araby?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Sure.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ? 43 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Araby, my eye!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         111. WIDER SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Conroy, having finished his drink, pushes 
                         back his chair and rises. He puts an 
                         affectionate hand on Stew's shoulder.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Well, I'm sorry to see a good reporter 
                         go blooey
<b>                                      
</b>                         (starts away)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Let me know when you're quitting.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I'm not quitting!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         No?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         No!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         CONROY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (singing)
<b>                                     
</b>                         'For he's only a bird in a gilded cage, 
                         a beautiful sight to see'
<b>                                      
</b>                         (he waves his hand)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Tweet, tweet - ha, ha
<b>                                     
</b>                         He laughs loud and raucously and exits.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         112. CLOSE SHOT - STEW AND GALLAGHER
</b><b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Stew glares after Conroy.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (under his breath)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Laugh - laugh, you hyena!
<b>                                     
</b>                         Gallagher realizes that Conroy has hit 
                         home with the truth and is sorry for 
                         Stew. She puts her hand over his sympathetically.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Don't pay attention to him, Stew. He 
                         doesn't know what he's talking about.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Pay attention? I'm not paying any attention 
                         to him. You think that guy could get 
                         me upset? Hah! Not that mug. He's a 
                         tough mug - hard, cynical. He doesn't 
                         know the fine things in life - that 
                         guy.
<b>                                      
</b>                         (he swirls his drink, thinking)
<b>                                     
</b>                         A bird in a gilded cage, huh? It's getting 
                         so a guy can't step out without being 
                         called a magnolia. Stew Smith, a magnolia! 
                         Not me. Say, I'm not going to hang around 
                         and be a speakeasy rat all my life! 
                         I'll tell you that. Not me, not me. 
                         I'm going to step out and mean something 
                         in this world. You watch me.
<b>                                      
</b>                         (he swirls his drink, clearly bothered, 
                         lost in his own thoughts)
<b>                                      
</b>                         Say, am I a lucky guy to be near Anne 
                         Schuyler? I've been hit with a carload 
                         of horseshoes, and believe me I know 
                         it. Lucky, I'll say I'm lucky!
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 44 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (pause)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Don't you think I'm lucky, Gallagher?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Sure - I think so, Stew.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I knew you would, pal.
<b>                                     
</b>                         (clearly bothered)
<b>                                     
</b>                         A bird in a gilded cage, eh?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         How is her family going to feel about 
                         it?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Her family? Oh, they'll be all right. 
                         I'll bring them around.
<b>                                      
</b>                         (swirling his drink)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Gilded cage?! Besides, I'm not marrying 
                         her family. Stew Smith in a gilded cage! 
                         Stew Smith? Ha!
<b>                                      
</b>                         (clearly bothered)
<b>                                     
</b>                         That mug. What does he know?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         LAP DISSOLVE TO:
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         INT. SCHUYLER DRAWING ROOM - DAY
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         113. MED. FULL SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Another jury scene. This time it is 
                         Anne who's on the carpet. Grayson, in 
                         correct afternoon attire, his hands 
                         behind his back and his head sunk, is 
                         pacing back and forth in a very depressed 
                         and gloomy fashion.
<b>                                      
</b>                         Anne is seated, her demeanor betokening 
                         sullen defiance.
<b>                                      
</b>                         Michael is pacing, nervously smoking 
                         a cigarette.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         MICHAEL
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I don't know what you need me here for 
                         - it isn't my funeral.
<b>                                      
</b>                         Mrs. Schuyler stands by a table, staring 
                         at a spreadout newspaper which is laid 
                         out on the table. She flings the newspaper 
                         aside.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You stay right here, Michael. Some day 
                         you'll be head of this family, but thank 
                         heaven I shan't be here when it happens. 
                         And I hope you never have a daughter 
                         who gives you gastritis as Anne has 
                         me!
<b>                                      
</b>                         She pulls the bell rope for the butler.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Now Mother, calm yourself. There's no 
                         use in getting so excited.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         114. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Mrs. Schuyler is vastly agitated.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, isn't there?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ? 45 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (as Anne starts to get up)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Sit down!
<b>                                     
</b>                         (looking off)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Smythe!
<b>                                     
</b>                         The butler appears in the doorway.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (in a weak, agonized voice)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Some bicarbonate - quick!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Double strength!
<b>                                     
</b>                         The butler bows and exits. She passes 
                         a nervous hand over her eyes. Anne comes 
                         up to her.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Mother, if you keep this up, you'll 
                         have a nervous breakdown before you 
                         go to Europe.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         115. CLOSER SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Anne, Grayson and Mrs. Schuyler.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         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. A reporter! Of all 
                         things, a reporter! A barbarian who 
                         lets his socks come down!
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Mother, I promise you that he won't 
                         be a reporter much longer. Once I get 
                         him away from that atmosphere and get 
                         him away from a man named Gallagher
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (as Anne starts to get up again)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Sit down!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         116. WIDER SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         The butler enters with a tray on which 
                         is a glass of bicarbonate of soda and 
                         brings it to Mrs. Schuyler. Walking 
                         immediately behind the butler is Stew, 
                         airily debonair. The butler glances 
                         somewhat uneasily at Mrs. Schuyler as 
                         he presents the tray. She glares blackly 
                         at Stew without a word of greeting, 
                         and taking the foaming glass from the 
                         tray, starts to lift it to her lips.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (airily)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Drink hearty, Mother.
<b>                                     
</b>                         Once more, Anne starts to rise out of 
                         her seat.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Anne!
<b>                                     
</b>                         Mrs. Schuyler pauses - glowering at 
                         Stew. Stew nods perfunctorily to each 
                         member of the jury, the total innocent.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Hello, Anne. Mr. Grayson.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ? 46 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (to Michael)
<b>                                     
</b>                         And you.
<b>                                     
</b>                         (to Mrs. Schuyler)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Mrs. Schuyler!
<b>                                     
</b>                         Grayson does not acknowledge the greeting. 
                         Mrs. Schuyler, having drained the glass, 
                         dismisses the butler with a wave of 
                         the hand, and directs her attention 
                         again to the matter at hand.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (in command)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Well, what's to be done? He's here now.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         They are all silent - reluctant to speak 
                         in front of Stew. Stew looks at them 
                         all - a little puzzled - then he walks 
                         over toward Mrs. Schuyler.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         117. MEDIUM CLOSE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Mrs. Schuyler and Stew.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Nobody seems to want to do anything
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         (to Mrs. Schuyler, brightly)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Why not ask me? Perhaps I can offer 
                         a suggestion. Do what about what?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (witheringly)
<b>                                     
</b>                         About what? Your marriage to Anne!
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (with a tone of dismissal)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, my marriage to Anne. Now Mrs. Schuyler, 
                         we don't want you to go to any trouble 
                         about that. We just want the usual blessings, 
                         that's all.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         118. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Mrs. Schuyler's eyes flash. She draws 
                         herself up with haughty dignity.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Young man, I want you to know that I 
                         object violently to this whole affair!
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         This finally brings Anne out of her 
                         seat. She rises and crosses to Stew, 
                         making a show of embracing him.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Now Mother, your attitude is perfectly 
                         ridiculous. It's done now. Stewart and 
                         I are married.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (to Mrs. Schuyler)
<b>                                     
</b>                         I'm afraid she's right, Mrs. Schuyler. 
                         I'm really very sorry, Mrs. Schuyler, 
                         that you feel this way. I was in hopes 
                         that you would like me. I'm not the 
                         burglar that you think I am. After all, 
                         we're married. I think the thing to 
                         do is to kiss and make up - Mother.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (furiously)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Stop calling me Mother!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ? 47 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (easily)
<b>                                     
</b>                         All right, Grandma
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (glaring)
<b>                                     
</b>                         This man's impossible! I can't talk 
                         to him. Grayson, let's go where we can 
                         talk - hic!
<b>                                      
</b>                         (she emits a burp, then fixes a glacial 
                         look at Anne)
<b>                                      
</b>                         See what you've done to me!?
<b>                                     
</b>                         Without another word, she turns and 
                         flounces angrily out of the room. Grayson 
                         follows her. At the doorway he pauses, 
                         starts to say something. They all look 
                         at him expectantly - but no words come 
                         out.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Got it too, huh?
<b>                                     
</b>                         Grayson gives a harrumph and exits.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         119. CLOSER MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Anne, Michael and Stew. Michael grins 
                         at Stew.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         MICHAEL
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Who won that round?
<b>                                     
</b>                         Michael starts moving toward the door.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (ruefully)
<b>                                     
</b>                         I'm afraid your mother won that round 
                         - that is, she got in the last blow.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         MICHAEL
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I don't feel the way they do. You're 
                         really not as bad as everybody thinks.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (effusively - shaking his hand)
<b>                                     
</b>                         You're beginning to appreciate me, eh? 
                         Thanks!
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         MICHAEL
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Don't worry too much about Mother - 
                         she's enjoying this. Come on upstairs, 
                         I'll give you a little -
<b>                                      
</b>                         He indicates a snifter, grins and exits. 
                         Anne crosses to Stew and puts her arm 
                         around his shoulder.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (to Michael)
<b>                                     
</b>                         A little? Sure, I'll be right up.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         (to Anne)
<b>                                     
</b>                         He's all right. I like him.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I'm glad.
<b>                                     
</b>                         He sees two figures pass above in a 
                         proscenium alcove, first Mrs. Schuyler, 
                         then Grayson. He makes an elaborate 
                         bow to each, and is impressed by Grayson's 
                         return bow.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 48 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         He can bend!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         120. CLOSER SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Anne takes a step backwards and sits 
                         down with him on one of the divans. 
                         CAMERA TILTING DOWN WITH THEM. He puts 
                         an arm about her.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Come here baby!
<b>                                     
</b>                         Anne starts fussing abstractedly at 
                         Stew's tie. They kiss.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I haven't seen you for three hours. 
                         You're neglecting me already
<b>                                      
</b>                         During her speech she has been picking 
                         away at a stain on his tie. Stew looks 
                         down and notices it.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         What's the matter? Something I et, no 
                         doubt. Egg marks the spot
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You ought to get some new ties, Stewart.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I don't need any new ties. I've got 
                         another tie - I've got another one besides 
                         this one. And it's a pip, too. There's 
                         only one thing wrong with it. You know 
                         what that is? It has a little weakness 
                         for gravy, and once in a while it leans 
                         a little toward ketchup. Of course that's 
                         only in its weaker moments. When you 
                         move down to my place, I'll show it 
                         to you.
<b>                                      
</b>                         Anne is somewhat taken aback at the 
                         suggestion that she's to move into his 
                         place.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Your place?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         121. TWO SHOT - ANOTHER ANGLE
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yeah. Oh, it's great. Of course it doesn't 
                         compare with this coliseum of yours 
                         here, but 'twill serve m'lady, 'twill 
                         serve.
<b>                                      
</b>                         (elaborate)
<b>                                     
</b>                         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.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (gently insistent)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Don't you think it's silly of us to 
                         think of living there when we have this 
                         whole big house
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         When 'we' . . .? You mean, you'd like 
                         to have me live here in your house?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ? 49 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Anne cuddles closer into his collar.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Sure. We can have the whole left wing 
                         and be all by ourselves all the time.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Stew is slightly dazed.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         122. CLOSEUP - STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         He is slightly dazed.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (cynically)
<b>                                     
</b>                         We could have the whole left wing? Wouldn't 
                         that be nice! Would that be room enough 
                         for us?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         123. TWO SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (seriously - missing his sarcasm)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Oh darling, of course it would. If it 
                         isn't - there are six rooms and two 
                         baths - but if that isn't enough, Mother 
                         will give us the blue room too, I think.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, Mother will give us the blue room. 
                         You haven't a red room, have you? Well, 
                         bless her heart. Wouldn't that be nice! 
                         My, oh my - six rooms and two baths 
                         and a blue room. I guess she would let 
                         us have the right wing if we needed 
                         it, wouldn't she?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         But we don't need it, I'm sure.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I see, we won't need that. Plenty of 
                         room, plenty of room.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         124. WIDER SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         He gets up and paces the floor. He looks 
                         at Anne and sees that she is taking 
                         him seriously. He drops down beside 
                         her.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (dropping his kidding)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Look Anne, you're not serious about 
                         this, are you?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Of course I am Stewart.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         125. CLOSER TWO SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Now let's get this settled
<b>                                     
</b>                         She cuddles closer, tweaking his nose.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You have the cutest nose I've
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ? 50 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Never mind my nose. What kind of a chump 
                         do you think I am? You think I'm going 
                         to live here 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. Oh no, not me!
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         What do you think my friends would say 
                         if they found me in a little cheap flat?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         It isn't cheap. It's nice.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (cuddling closer)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Listen Stew baby, let's not talk about 
                         things like that now
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Wait a minute. I'll do anything you 
                         ask me, Anne, but I will not live
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (cuddling closer - and stroking his 
                         nose)
<b>                                      
</b>                         Oh, I love that nose. It's such a sweet 
                         nose.
<b>                                      
</b>                         They kiss.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Nevertheless, whether the nose is sweet 
                         or not, I'm not going to live in your 
                         house. You may as well get that straight.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         They kiss again, longer.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You do want me to be happy, don't you? 
                         Then I'm not going to live in your house 
<b>                         . . .
</b><b>                                      
</b>                         They continue to kiss as . . .
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         LAP DISSOLVE TO:
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         INT. STEW'S BEDROOM - MORNING
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         126. CLOSE SHOT - STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         In bed, asleep, all curled up, his head 
                         on his arm. CAMERA TRUCKS BACK showing 
                         the magnificent bedroom, with carved 
                         wooden panellings, a raised, canopied 
                         bed. The clothes that Stew has taken 
                         off the night before are draped haphazardly 
                         about the room. When the Camera gets 
                         to a point that takes in a LONG SHOT 
                         of the room, the door to the hall opens 
                         and a correctly attired valet appears. 
                         He closes the door noiselessly, goes 
                         over to the windows, and draws the brocaded 
                         drapes aside. Then he crosses to a covered 
                         object and with a small flourish removes 
                         the cover - revealing a birdcage. He 
                         approaches the bed.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         127. CLOSER SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         As Dawson the valet stops beside the 
                         bed. The valet leans over and speaks 
                         distinctly.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         DAWSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Mr. Smith, sir
<b>                                     
</b>                         There is no movement from the form on 
                         the bed.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 51 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         DAWSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Mr. Smith, sir!
<b>                                     
</b>                         Still no response. The valet taps the 
                         bedclothes-shrouded shoulder gently.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         DAWSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Mr. Smith, sir
<b>                                     
</b>                         Sleepily, Stew turns, his eyes heavy 
                         with sleep.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         128. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         DAWSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         How do you like your bath, sir?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I like my bath all right. How do you 
                         like your bath?
<b>                                      
</b>                         Stew peers up, puzzled.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Who are you?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         DAWSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (surprised)
<b>                                     
</b>                         I'm your valet, sir. Dawson is the name, 
                         sir.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You're my what?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         DAWSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Your valet, sir.
<b>                                     
</b>                         Stew still stares at him. Then he nods 
                         to himself - thinks he gets the idea. 
                         Stew kicks back the covers and sits 
                         on the edge of the bed in his pajamas. 
                         Still sitting on the edge of the bed, 
                         he starts to slip his feet into a pair 
                         of slippers. The valet bends on one 
                         knee to help him.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Thank you, thank you, thank you! I'll 
                         do that for you some time. That's very 
                         sweet. Say listen, what did you say 
                         your name was?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         DAWSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Dawson, sir.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Dawson, huh? Was I very drunk last night?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         DAWSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Drunk, sir?
<b>                                     
</b>                         Stew rises and starts to reach for a 
                         dressing gown, but again the valet beats 
                         him to it - holding it for him and helping 
                         him slip into it.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yes. I must have been pretty much plastered 
                         if I hired a valet.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         DAWSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, but you didn't engage me, sir.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ? 52 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew, surprised, turns on him quickly.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Who did engage you then, if I didn't 
                         engage you? What are you doing with 
                         my pants
<b>                                      
</b>                         The valet picks up his pants.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Did you take anything out of those pants?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         DAWSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh no, sir!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         What are you doing fooling around in 
                         here?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         DAWSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Miss Schuyler - I mean, Mrs. Smith - 
                         she engaged me this morning, sir.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Stew pulls out a cigarette. The valet, 
                         without missing a beat, leans over and 
                         offers a light. A wary Stew accepts.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Hmmm. So Mrs. Smith engaged me a valley, 
                         huh? That's very nice of Mrs. Smith 
                         - to engage me a valley.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         129. WIDER SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew walks over and gets a cigarette 
                         out of a box on a small table, waving 
                         his hand in a gesture of dismissal. 
                         The valet is right behind him, holding 
                         up his bathrobe for Stew to step into.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (putting on the bathrobe)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Say, you are nice. You're all right. 
                         You'd make a good wife.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         DAWSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Thank you, sir.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         But not for me! Though I like you well 
                         enough. You're a nice fellow. You're 
                         all right. But I'm sorry I don't need 
                         any valleys today.
<b>                                      
</b>                         The valet pays no attention to him, 
                         but walks around the room, picking up 
                         the clothes that Stew has flung about.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         DAWSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, 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.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Stew, with his cigarette between his 
                         lips, stands watching the valet as he 
                         retrieves the various articles of cast-off 
                         clothing. The valet's manner is somewhat 
                         patronizing. He walks over to a chifferobe 
                         and starts opening the drawers, preparatory 
                         to laying out fresh things for Stew. 
                         Suddenly, Stew stalks over to him, takes 
                         him by the shoulder, and yanks him around 
                         to face him.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 53 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         130. CLOSER SHOT - STEW AND DAWSON
</b><b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         The valet is astonished and somewhat 
                         alarmed at the belligerent expression 
                         on Stew's face.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (over-sweetly)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Are you trying to tell me that I need 
                         someone to help me put on my pants and 
                         button them up?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         DAWSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Quite so. Quite.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Now I'm sorry. I appreciate your efforts. 
                         But I don't need anybody to help me 
                         button my pants - I've been buttoning 
                         my pants for thirty years all right, 
                         and I can button 'em with one hand as 
                         a matter of fact.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         DAWSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Now Mr. Smith, now please
<b>                                     
</b>                         Stew is rapidly losing his temper.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You've got a nice face, Dawson, you 
                         wouldn't want anything to happen to 
                         your face, would you?
<b>                                      
</b>                         The valet puts a bewildered hand to 
                         his face.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         DAWSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh no, sir
<b>                                     
</b>                         Stew releases him with a definite motion 
                         toward the door.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         All right, outside!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         DAWSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (bewildered)
<b>                                     
</b>                         I beg your pardon, sir?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (gesturing violently)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Outside!
<b>                                     
</b>                         The valet gazes at Stew as if he thinks 
                         the man is insane. He is considerably 
                         alarmed.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         DAWSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I think I understand, sir. You mean 
                         you want me to go?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (smiling admiringly)
<b>                                     
</b>                         There you are. You caught on. You see, 
                         you're nice and you're smart too. You 
                         caught on right away. Outside! Go on! 
                         Outside! And don't come back!
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         131. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         The valet starts edging toward the door.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ? 54 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         DAWSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         No, sir. No!
<b>                                     
</b>                         Stew's eyes bulge as he notices the 
                         birdcage for the first time.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Wait a minute, what's this?
<b>                                     
</b>                         INSERT: Birdcage.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         BACK TO SCENE:
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         DAWSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         That's a canary, sir.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         That's a canary! Who brought that in 
                         here? Canary, huh? Go on, get that out 
                         of here. Get that out of here!
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         DAWSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (frightened)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Yes, sir. Very good, sir.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (ranting)
<b>                                     
</b>                         A bird! A bird in a gilded cage! Get 
                         that thing out of here!
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         DAWSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yes sir!
<b>                                     
</b>                         The valet hurries off, carrying the 
                         birdcage. As he nears the door, there 
                         is a light tap on the door connecting 
                         Stew's room and Anne's. The door opens 
                         and Anne comes in, wearing a ravishing 
                         and revealing negligee. She carries 
                         a small jeweler's box in her hand. She 
                         crosses the room toward Stew.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Good morning, darling.
<b>                                     
</b>                         She looks over and sees Dawson at the 
                         hall door.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, Dawson, see that all Mr. Smith's 
                         clothes go to the cleaners this morning, 
                         please, will you?
<b>                                      
</b>                         The valet bows. Stew looks at her blankly.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         DAWSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Very good, madame.
<b>                                     
</b>                         He closes the door discreetly and goes 
                         out.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         132. CLOSER SHOT - ANNE AND STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         As they hug.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Say, who is this mug?
<b>                                     
</b>                         Anne sits down on the rumpled bed.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ? 55 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I've got a present. Shut your eyes. 
                         Keep 'em closed. I know you're going 
                         to love them.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (eyes closed, feeling the package)
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Little - couldn't be an automobile, 
                         could it?
<b>                                      
</b>                         (he opens the package)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Well, well! Ain't that nice!
<b>                                     
</b>                         He holds them up - expensive garters.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Do you like them?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Got my initials on them too. They're 
                         cute. They're nice little things - what 
                         do you do with them?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You wear them of course, silly.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh no. No, no. Not me. I haven't worn 
                         these things for Years.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I know that.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Besides I'd look foolish. I couldn't 
                         look Gallagher in the face.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Darling, I don't care whether you can 
                         look Gallagher in the face or not, but 
                         you're gonna be a good boy and wear 
                         garters.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Honey, I love you. I'll eat spinach 
                         for you. I'll go to the dentist twice 
                         a year for you. I'll wash behind my 
                         ears for you. But I will never wear 
                         garters!
<b>                                      
</b>                         His arms go about Anne. Under the force 
                         of his embrace Anne sinks back on the 
                         pillows. Stew leans forward looking 
                         down at her.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         133. CLOSE TWO SHOT - STEW AND ANNE
</b><b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Nose to nose.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (adopting a sing-song)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, yes you will my dear - oh, yes you 
                         will my dear - you'll wear garters and 
                         you'll like it too!
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (picking up her sing-song)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, no I won't my dear - oh, no I won't 
                         my dear - I'll wash behind my ears, 
                         but no I won't my dear!
<b>                                      
</b>                         He bends to kiss her again, but she 
                         gently resists, and continues the sing-song.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ? 56 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, yes you will my dear - oh, yes you 
                         will my dear - you'll eat spinach but 
                         you'll wear garters too!
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         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
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh yes you will wear garters
<b>                                     
</b>                         They melt into each other's arms.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         LAP DISSOLVE TO:
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         INT. CITY ROOM OF NEWSPAPER OFFICE - 
</b><b>                         DAY
</b><b>                                      
</b><b>                         134. MEDIUM FULL SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         General activity, as before.
<b>                                     
</b>                         CAMERA TRUCKS DOWN THE MAIN AISLE until 
                         it centers on Stew at his desk, sitting 
                         low in his chair, his feet cocked up 
                         on the corner of his desk, reading a 
                         newspaper
<b>                                      
</b>                         CAMERA TRUCKS UP CLOSER centering on 
                         his feet on the desk. One trouser leg 
                         is pulled slightly up and reveals a 
                         garter.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         135. MEDIUM CLOSE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew, reading the newspaper. It is opened 
                         up before his face.
<b>                                      
</b>                         INSERT: Headlines - about a three-column 
                         article:
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE SCHUYLER AND CINDERELLA HUBBY TO 
</b><b>                         OCCUPY SCHUYLER MANSION
</b><b>                                      
</b>                         As Stew reads this, he looks very glum 
                         and depressed.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         136. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         A reporter, the one Stew had socked 
                         with a wad of paper in an earlier sequence, 
                         shambles past and stops abruptly, staring 
                         at Stew's feet.
<b>                                      
</b>                         INSERT: Of what he sees. Stew's feet. 
                         The socks are strangely taut.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         BACK TO SCENE:
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         The reporter glances up and sees that 
                         Stew cannot see him, and then carefully 
                         lifts Stew's trouser leg a few inches.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         INSERT: Stew's feet and legs. As the 
                         reporter's hand lifts the trouser leg, 
                         the fancy solid-gold garters are on 
                         full display.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         BACK TO SCENE:
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         The reporter stares at them goggle-eyed. 
                         He can hardly contain himself at the 
                         sight of the garters. He looks off:
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         REPORTER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (cautiously)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Psst!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         137. WIDER SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         One or two other reporters hear him 
                         and look over curiously. The reporter 
                         looks very mysterious and important 
                         and makes a motion for silence and caution. 
                         They get up and cross on tip-toe to 
                         join him.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 57 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         138. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         The men around Stew. They quietly gather 
                         around his feet and the reporter who 
                         made the discovery proudly displays 
                         his find. One or two more step by and 
                         all stare. Stew still has the paper 
                         up in front of his face.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         FIRST REPORTER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Is it real?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         2ND REPORTER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Of course it's real!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         3RD REPORTER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Any diamonds on them?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         REPORTER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Musta set him back at least six bits.[11]
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         139. MEDIUM CLOSE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew. (Camera behind him and shooting 
                         over his head.) He is suddenly attracted 
                         by this unusual conversation and lowers 
                         his paper, revealing the group of six 
                         or seven men in a huddle round his feet.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         2ND REPORTER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         One just can't wear those and be decent.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         3RD REPORTER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yes you can, if you belong to the Four 
                         Hundred.[12]
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         2ND REPORTER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I wonder what number he is.
<b>                                     
</b>                         Stew flares in anger. Several of them 
                         are bending low to get a close peek. 
                         With a violent gesture, Stew kicks his 
                         foot forward and sends a couple of them 
                         sprawling. Stew gets to his feet.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Go on, get out of there! What's the 
                         matter with you mugs? Didn't you ever 
                         see a guy with a pair of garters on 
                         before?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         140. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         The two reporters who have done most 
                         of the talking scramble to their feet. 
                         The second reporter speaks in mock perplexity.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         REPORTER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         What do you suppose he wears them for?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         2ND REPORTER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Can it be possible to hold his socks 
                         up?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         3RD REPORTER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yeah, exactly.
<b>                                     
</b>                         (effeminately)
<b>                                     
</b>                         You know, one's hose look horribly untidy 
                         when they hang loose-like, don't you 
                         think so, percifield?
<b>                                      
</b>                         Stew gets up as his phone rings. He 
                         pays no attention to it. Hank, another 
                         reporter, answers.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 58 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         4TH REPORTER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (same effeminacy)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Yes, my dear chap - they look ghastly 
                         - they look ghastly!
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Go on! Screw! Get out of here!
<b>                                     
</b>                         He starts out when Hank calls to him:
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         HANK
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Hey, Stew!
<b>                                     
</b>                         Stew turns.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         HANK
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (indicating phone)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Your policeman!
<b>                                     
</b>                         Stew comes back and, frowning, picks 
                         up the phone.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         141. CLOSE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew at phone.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Hello? Oh hello dear. Wait just a minute
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         (to reporters, hovering around)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Come on! Beat it, will you? Screw! Screw! 
                         This is my wife! In your respective 
                         chapeaux and over your cauliflower ears.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         REPORTERS
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (ad-lib teasing comments as they exit 
                         scene)
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         INT. ANNE'S BEDROOM
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         142. CLOSEUP - ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         She is lying on her stomach on a rubbing 
                         table, as used by a masseuse. We see 
                         a considerable part of her back, on 
                         which a middle-aged Swedish masseuse 
                         is industriously working. Anne has the 
                         telephone in her hand. Throughout her 
                         scene, we hear very telling whacks:
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (into phone)
<b>                                     
</b>                         But it's nearly six o'clock darling, 
                         and you know how long it takes you to 
                         dress.
<b>                                      
</b>                         (pause)
<b>                                     
</b>                         But the Ambassador is coming at eight, 
                         and you've got to be ready by the time 
                         he gets here.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         LAP DISSOLVE TO:
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         EXT. SCHUYLER LONG ISLAND ESTATE
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         143. LONG SHOT OF ESTATE
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         DISSOLVE INTO:
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         144. EXT. FRONT ENTRANCE GATE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Two footmen stand at either side of 
                         a huge iron gate. Cars and limousines 
                         are arriving, dropping off guests in 
                         evening wear.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         INT. CORRIDOR SCHUYLER HOME
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         145. Gallagher is just entering. Smythe 
                         holds door open for her.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 59 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I'd like to see Miss Wilson, please.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Who shall I say, madam?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Miss Gallagher of the Post.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yes, miss.
<b>                                     
</b>                         He leaves.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         146. INT. SCHUYLER RECEPTION HALL
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         MOSS AND FONTANA are doing a beautiful 
                         tango. Guests scattered around the room, 
                         watching interestedly.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CUT BACK TO:
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         147. INT. CORRIDOR SCHUYLER HOME
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Gallagher is still waiting. Smythe enters, 
                         leading Miss Wilson, a refined-looking 
                         girl of 26 or so, her hand extended.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Miss Gallagher of the Post.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         MISS WILSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh yes - of course. Miss Gallagher?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yes.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         MISS WILSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I'm Miss Wilson - Mrs. Schuyler's social 
                         secretary.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I was sent from the Post in place of 
                         our social editor.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         MISS WILSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yes, of course. Miss Ramsey telephoned 
                         me. Well, what would you like to have?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Why, a list of the guests. That's the 
                         usual thing, isn't it?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         MISS WILSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yes, of course. I'll get it for you
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         (smiling)
<b>                                     
</b>                         In the meantime, would you like to take 
                         a look around?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yes, thank you.
<b>                                     
</b>                         The CAMERA MOVES WITH THEM as they start 
                         for the Reception Room.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         MISS WILSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         That's a lovely dress.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ? 60 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Thank you.
<b>                                     
</b>                         (pause)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Where is Mr. Smith?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         MISS WILSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Mr. Smith? Oh, you mean Ann Schuyler's 
                         husband?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yes.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         MISS WILSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         He's probably very tired. You see, he's 
                         had to meet all these people personally 
                         tonight.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I bet.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         MISS WILSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You newspaper people have a lot of fun 
                         with him, don't you? What is it you 
                         call him - the Cinderella Man?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CUT TO:
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         148. INT. ENTRANCE OF BALLROOM
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Moss and Fontana are just finishing 
                         their dance. Gallagher stands in doorway 
                         with Miss Wilson, watching them. Excited 
                         voices comment on the dance. Miss Wilson 
                         beckons to Gallagher to follow her.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         CAMERA TRUCKS with them as they weave 
                         in and out of crowd. Miss Wilson points 
                         out celebrated guests to her.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         MISS WILSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         There's the Spanish Ambassador.
<b>                                     
</b>                         Gallagher steals a glance at the celebrated 
                         gentleman.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You know, he looks like one.
<b>                                     
</b>                         Miss Wilson laughs delightedly. At this 
                         point they are interrupted by a butler.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         149. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         BUTLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Miss Wilson
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         MISS WILSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yes?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         BUTLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Mrs. Smith would like to see you.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         MISS WILSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (to Gallagher)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Will you excuse me? Make yourself at 
                         home for just a moment, please.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Thanks.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ? 61 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Miss Wilson follows butler out of scene. 
                         Gallagher is left alone. She wanders 
                         about the huge ballroom, peering here 
                         and there, searching for Stew. Finally 
                         she comes to a large open French door 
                         and steps out.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         150. INT. TERRACE LEADING OFF SCHUYLER 
</b><b>                         BALLROOM
</b><b>                                      
</b>                         Several groups of men and women are 
                         seated at tables. Gallagher enters from 
                         ballroom, glances quickly at all the 
                         men. Disappointed at not finding Stew, 
                         she crosses terrace and descends broad 
                         stone steps and advances into garden.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         151. INT. SECLUDED SPOT IN GARDEN
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew, his head cupped in his hands, 
                         is seated on a stone bench. Gallagher 
                         wanders into scene. She sees Stew and 
                         stops. Stew does not move. Gallagher, 
                         with a happy smile on her lips, moves 
                         closer to him. Stew suddenly becomes 
                         conscious of someone near him and looks 
                         suddenly up. He sees Gallagher; his 
                         face breaks into a happy grin.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Mr. Smith, I've read some of your plays 
                         and I'd like an autograph.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Well, well! If it isn't my old friend! 
                         Turn around, gal! Let's get a look at 
                         you.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         There you are!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         152. CLOSER SHOT OF THE TWO
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Well, daughter of the slums - how did 
                         you get out of the ghetto?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I'm pinch-hitting for our society editor 
                         tonight. I wanted to see some life in 
                         the raw.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Aw, you wanted to see some life in the 
                         raw, huh? Well gal, I'm afraid we ain't 
                         got no raw life up here.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Well, I'll have to look someplace else.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         No, no! Maybe we could interest you 
                         in some well done butterflies, or perhaps 
                         some slightly fried pansies, or better 
                         still, some stuffed shirts. And guaranteed 
                         every one of them will give you a good 
                         stiff pain in the neck.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (fixing his tie)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Say, who's been tying your ties lately? 
                         It looks rotten.
<b>                                      
</b>                         He suddenly realizes there's something 
                         different about Gallagher. He takes 
                         a step back so as to look her over carefully 
                         - blinks his eyes.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 62 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Gee Gallagher, do you look good! What 
                         are you doing to yourself?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Nothing.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         What did you do to that hair? And where 
                         did you get that dress?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I dyed one and washed the other.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (enthusiastically)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, you dyed one and washed the other. 
                         Well! You certainly look good.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         153. ANOTHER PART OF THE GARDEN
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Anne is walking in direction of Stew 
                         and Gallagher. She stops suddenly when 
                         she sees them. Her body stiffens.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         CUT BACK TO:
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANOTHER SHOT - STEW AND GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         From Anne's angle. Gallagher is facing 
                         in the direction of Anne.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Don't turn around now - but there's 
                         a very beautiful girl up there who seems 
                         to be staring at us.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Staring at us?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         My mistake - she's glaring.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Must be my wife.
<b>                                     
</b>                         He turns - sees Anne.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         It is my wife. Hi Anne. Don't go away. 
                         Stay right there, because I'm going 
                         to bring a friend up I want you to meet.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         They exit.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         154. MED. CLOSE SHOT - ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Standing as before. She is looking off 
                         with slightly narrowed eyes. Stew and 
                         Gallagher come up to her.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Anne, prepare yourself for the treat 
                         of your life. This is Gallagher.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (astounded)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Gallagher!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ? 63 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Sure - my pal on the paper. She's subbing 
                         for the society editor tonight.
<b>                                      
</b>                         Anne turns an acid smile on the uncomfortable 
                         Gallagher.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         155. CLOSER THREE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, yes, of course. How do you do?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Gallagher, this is Mrs. Smith.
<b>                                     
</b>                         Anne winces slightly at this name.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         How do you do?
<b>                                     
</b>                         There is a short, awkward pause.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (bitter-sweet)
<b>                                     
</b>                         You know, Stewart, you failed to mention 
                         that Miss Gallagher was a very beautiful 
                         young girl.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Gallagher?
<b>                                     
</b>                         Gallagher flashes a look at Stew - seeing 
                         that he fails to get the dynamite behind 
                         Anne's casually pleasant phrases. Anne 
                         plunges ahead. Her tone is unmistakable 
                         now.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yes. As a matter of fact, you failed 
                         to mention that Gallagher was a girl.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (surprised)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Didn't I? That's funny. Isn't it funny?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (with a world of meaning)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Yes - isn't it?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         156. CLOSE SHOT - STEW AND ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew is beginning to realize that all 
                         is not well as it could be.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You see, we never look at Gallagher 
                         as a girl
<b>                                      
</b>                         He breaks off.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (with her eyes on Gallagher)
<b>                                     
</b>                         No? What do you look upon her as?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (fumbling for words)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Why, down at the office, we always look 
                         at Gallagher as - eh - just Gallagher, 
                         that's all.
<b>                                      
</b>                         CAMERA PANS QUICKLY TO CLOSE SHOT of 
                         GALLAGHER. She tries to back Stew up.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ? 64 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (not so comfortable herself)
<b>                                     
</b>                         They all consider me just as one of 
                         the boys.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Right!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         157. MED. SHOT OF THE THREE
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (a deadly acid smile)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Indeed? How interesting.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (same kind of smile)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Yes - isn't it.
<b>                                     
</b>                         Anne takes Stew's arm, drawing him away 
                         from Gallagher.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Miss Wilson will give you the guest 
                         list and any other details you may need, 
                         Miss Gallagher.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (resenting the tone of dismissal)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Thank you. I'll go and look for her 
                         at once. Goodbye, Mrs. Smith.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Goodbye, Miss Gallagher.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Goodbye, Stew
<b>                                     
</b>                         She leaves scene.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         158. MED. CLOSE SHOT - STEW AND ANNE
</b><b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Stew turns and faces her.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         That was kind of a rotten thing to do, 
                         Anne. After all, Gallagher is my friend. 
                         The least you can do is be courteous 
                         to her.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I thought I was very charming, Stewart.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You did? That's a lot of hooey! I'll 
                         go and apologize.
<b>                                      
</b>                         He promptly walks away from her in Gallagher's 
                         direction.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (furious)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Stewart, please!
<b>                                     
</b>                         She glares angrily at the departing 
                         Stew.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         EXT. TERRACE
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         159. CLOSE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Gallagher has just reached the ballroom 
                         when Stew catches up to her.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 65 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I'm sorry, Gallagher - really, I am 
                         sorry.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (reassuringly)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, that's all right, Stew. Forget it. 
                         As far as she's concerned, I'm just 
                         part of the hired help.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         No, no. Strange, I've never seen Anne 
                         act that way before. (pause) It's funny 
                         I never thought to tell her you were 
                         a girl, isn't it?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yes.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         INT. SCHUYLER ENTRANCE HALL
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         160. MED. CLOSE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         The butler is just opening the door. 
                         Bingy, looking more disreputable than 
                         usual, steps inside.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Hello, there, Meadows![13]
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (disapproving once-over)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Who is it you wish to see, sir?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I want to see Stew Smith. Oh excuse 
                         me - I mean Mr. Smith.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Pardon me, Mr. Smith is engaged. We 
                         are having a reception here this evening
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, a party! Great, great! Jolly times 
                         and merry pranks. That's me. I'm a guy 
                         who loves parties. You know
<b>                                      
</b>                         He is distracted by two elegantly-dressed 
                         ladies strolling by.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         a beautiful pair of shoulders! But 
                         listen now, as a favor, will you please 
                         make it snappy, Laughing Waters,[14] 
                         and tell Stew Smith I gotta see him 
                         because if you don't my whole family's 
                         going to die.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I'll tell Mr. Smith at once, sir. Have 
                         a seat.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Well, I got a seat, but I have no place 
                         to put it.
<b>                                      
</b>                         The butler turns to leave, then turns 
                         back, his face expressing distinct disapproval.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Pardon me, sir, but I've heard that 
                         one before.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 66 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         INT. SCHUYLER BALLROOM
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         161. CLOSE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew and Gallagher standing together. 
                         The butler is seen leaving the scene, 
                         having just informed Stew of Bingy's 
                         presence at the reception.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (to Gallagher)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Excuse me. I just want to make sure 
                         and see he doesn't take away any of 
                         the vases.
<b>                                      
</b>                         (starts to leave, then turns back)
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Well, well, well! My little pal, Gallagher, 
                         a girl, huh?
<b>                                      
</b>                         (unexpectedly, he bends to kiss her 
                         hand)
<b>                                      
</b>                         (tenderly)
<b>                                     
</b>                         That's 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.
<b>                                      
</b>                         He exits. Gallagher is left staring 
                         at her hand wonderingly.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         INT. SCHUYLER ENTRANCE HALL
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         162. MED. SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Bingy gets up from his throne chair, 
                         and crosses into the doorway of the 
                         library opposite him. He stops by a 
                         carved low-boy, and curiously examines 
                         a large antique vase. Stew comes in 
                         and stops with a smile as he sees him.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Bingy, his hand on the vase, looks up. 
                         Stew walks over to him.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (referring to vase)
<b>                                     
</b>                         What's the matter, Bingy, a little clumsy 
                         to get in your pocket?
<b>                                      
</b>                         Bingy sets down the vase and surveys 
                         him.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         No. I was just looking at it. Pretty, 
                         ain't it? I was just looking for the 
                         price tag.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         INT. SCHUYLER LIBRARY
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         163. CLOSER SHOT OF THE TWO
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Bingy looks him up and down in silent, 
                         insolent scrutiny. Stew begins to burn.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         What do you want?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, nothing. I just blew over - I wanted 
                         to see how the old newshound looked 
                         made up for a gentleman.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (sore)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Would you like to have me turn around 
                         for you, Bingy?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh boy, I'd love it.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ? 67 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew makes a complete turn and faces 
                         Bingy again.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         How's that?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (appraisingly)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Not bad - not good - but not bad. You 
                         ought to be able to fool about almost 
                         anybody.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Is that so? Well, have you seen enough 
                         - or would you like a photograph?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         A photograph? What's the matter? Hasn't 
                         mama had you done in oils yet?
<b>                                      
</b>                         (singing)
<b>                                     
</b>                         "Just A Gigolo . . . "[15]
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Now get this mug. You've got the kind 
                         of chin I just love to touch. And if 
                         you don't get out of here, I'm going 
                         to hang one right on it.
<b>                                      
</b>                         Bingy assumes a conciliatory attitude.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Take it easy! Take it easy, Dempsey.[16] 
                         Just relax, my boy, relax and open your 
                         pores.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         164. CLOSER TWO SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew glares at him. Bingy goes on.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I bring a message from Garcia.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yeah?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yeah. The boss sent me over to offer 
                         you a job. He wants you to write a daily 
                         column on the Tribune.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (skeptically)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Yeah - go on.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         It's all right. You can write your own 
                         ticket. A hundred and fifty bucks a 
                         week.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (thinks a bit - quietly)
<b>                                     
</b>                         I'll bite. What's the catch?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         There's no catch. This is on the up 
                         and up. Of course all you have to do 
                         is just sign the article - by Anne Schuyler's 
                         Husband.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 68 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         165. MED. SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Taking in the doorway. The butler starts 
                         to pass by. Stew's eyes are blazing.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Well, how does the old Cinderella man 
                         feel about that?
<b>                                      
</b>                         With a quick motion, Stew clips Bingy 
                         on the jaw. Bingy, caught unawares, 
                         reels backward.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         166. CLOSER SHOT IN DOORWAY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Bingy describes a backward arc, just 
                         as Smythe, the butler, seeing he can 
                         be of service, steps forward and catches 
                         him.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Well done, sir. Very neat.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (through his teeth)
<b>                                     
</b>                         That's what I think of it, Bingy!
<b>                                     
</b>                         Bingy sags in the butler's arms. The 
                         butler looks at Stew inquiringly. Stew 
                         nods.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (to butler)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Smythe, the - er - gentleman is leaving.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yes, sir.
<b>                                     
</b>                         Bingy is carried out. Stew stands glaring 
                         after them.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         FADE OUT:
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         FADE IN
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         INT. SCHUYLER HOME
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         167. MEDIUM CLOSE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Anne and her mother at the breakfast 
                         table.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Good morning, Mother. Didn't I tell 
                         you that he'd be marvelous. Everybody 
                         thought he was so charming last night.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I was so worried for fear he'd knock 
                         over a vase or something. I must have 
                         acted like an idiot.
<b>                                      
</b>                         (notices the morning paper in Anne's 
                         hands)
<b>                                      
</b>                         What does it say about the reception 
                         last night?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, the usual thing. Blah, blah, blah 
                         attended the blah, blah reception and 
                         wore the same blah, blah things.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (reproachfully)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Stop it. Anne. You're behaving like 
                         the person you're married to.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You don't have anything to complain 
                         about, Mother. He was all right last 
                         night, wasn't he? I told you not to 
                         worry about him.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 69 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         It was a miracle. The man was ill or 
                         something.
<b>                                      
</b>                         She suddenly notices front page of paper 
                         Anne is reading. Her face freezes in 
                         horror. She screams.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (screaming)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Ah-ah-ah!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Mother!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (frantically gesturing at paper)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Look! Look! The front page!
<b>                                     
</b>                         Anne turns paper and reads the article.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         CUT TO:
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         INSERT: NEWSPAPER
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         CINDERELLA MAN GROWS HAIR ON CHEST
</b><b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ATTACKS REPORTER IN SCHUYLER HOME.
</b><b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         "I wear the pants," says Anne Schuyler's 
                         husband.
<b>                                      
</b>                         "It's Okay with me," says Anne.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         168. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Mrs. Schuyler gets up. Paces wildly 
                         about room. In a frenzy.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I knew it! I knew it! I felt it in my 
                         bones!
<b>                                      
</b>                         She is interrupted by the entrance of 
                         Grayson, who dashes into the room, his 
                         eyes ablaze. In his hand he has a copy 
                         of the morning paper.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (tapping paper in hand)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Did you see the papers? "Cinderella 
                         Man Grows Hair On Chest!" This is the 
                         most terrible kind of publicity that 
                         could possibly
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (interrupting)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Don't you think I know it, Grayson?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         (as Smythe the butler enters with tray)
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Smith - send for Mr. Smythe! Er - Smythe, 
                         send for Mr. Smith!
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (as he turns to go)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Double-strength!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (muttering, as she exits scene)
<b>                                     
</b>                         "Cinderella Man Grows Hair On Chest!"
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (close behind, contemptuously)
<b>                                     
</b>                         "I wear the pants," says Anne Schuyler's 
                         husband!
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 70 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         INT. SCHUYLER ENTRANCE HALL - DAY
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         169. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew, now dressed in a business suit, 
                         comes from the direction of the stairs 
                         and stops just before he gets to the 
                         door of the drawing room. From within 
                         there is an ominous silence. Stew looks 
                         longingly in the direction of the front 
                         door - then back at the drawing room, 
                         squares his shoulders and goes in.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         INT. SCHUYLER DRAWING ROOM
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         170. CLOSE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         As Stew stops just inside the doorway. 
                         He had been prepared for this, but it 
                         strikes terror into his soul, just the 
                         same.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         171. MEDIUM FULL SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         From his angle in the doorway. The jury 
                         - Dexter Grayson, hands behind his back 
                         - is standing, gazing at Stew with a 
                         fishy eye. Mrs. Schuyler stares haughtily. 
                         Anne is crying softly.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CONTINUATION SCENE 170
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew - looking around at the gallery 
                         of faces. Then he forces a jaunty smile 
                         to his face as he starts to enter, whistling 
                         as he goes.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Good morning, everybody
<b>                                     
</b>                         (he gets a cold, frigid, silent reception)
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Well, maybe it isn't a good morning, 
                         huh?
<b>                                      
</b>                         (to Anne)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Anne, did you ever get the feeling that 
                         there was someone else in the room with 
                         you?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         172. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Have you seen this?
<b>                                     
</b>                         (shows him newspaper)
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yes - the worm!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I beg your pardon?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         He's a worm - and I'm gonna step on 
                         him!
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         To engage in a brawl! A cheap, common 
                         brawl, in my own home! "I wear the pants!" 
                         The pants ! Not even the trousers!
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I've tried to stop the evening papers, 
                         but it's useless.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         173. CLOSER SHOT - STEW AND GRAYSON
</b><b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You quit trying to stop anybody
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Well, at best you might deny it.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ? 71 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Why deny it? The more you deny, the 
                         more they print. Let them alone! The 
                         thing to do is to sit still and keep 
                         our traps shut.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Traps shut!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Certainly! I'll take care of this guy 
                         Bingy myself, personally.
<b>                                      
</b>                         (sees Anne crying)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Now what are you crying about?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         174. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Is this true, Stewart? Did you really 
                         say it?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yes, I said it. Sure, I said it. I didn't 
                         say it for publication, however.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         And you struck him right here in our 
                         house?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yes, I'm sorry, I struck him right here 
                         in your house. And I'll strike anybody 
                         in anybody's house that calls me a Cinderella 
                         Man.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Well, what else do you expect them to 
                         call you?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Dexter.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         175. CLOSEUP - STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (burning)
<b>                                     
</b>                         That's the fourteenth crack you've made 
                         to me. I'm keeping count. When you get 
                         to twenty, I'm gonna sock you right 
                         on the nose. As a matter of fact, I 
                         ought to sock you right now.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         176. MEDIUM FULL SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Anne Schuyler, are you going to sit 
                         there and watch this man insult us? 
                         Haven't you any decency left?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (defending him)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Why doesn't Dexter show some decency? 
                         And you might show some too, Mother. 
                         What do you expect a man to do when 
                         he's called such names?
<b>                                      
</b>                         (to Stew)
<b>                                     
</b>                         I'm glad you hit that reporter, Stewart. 
                         He deserved it.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 72 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (rising)
<b>                                     
</b>                         All right, all right! It's your funeral, 
                         Anne Schuyler!
<b>                                      
</b>                         She flounces out. Grayson remains behind.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (to Grayson)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Go on, beat it, shadow.
<b>                                     
</b>                         Grayson turns to go, then braves the 
                         last word.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Cinderella Man! That's fifteen.
<b>                                     
</b>                         He leaves in a huff. Stew puts his arms 
                         around the crying Anne.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         FADE OUT:
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         FADE IN
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         INT. SCHUYLER DRAWING ROOM
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         177. FULL SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Six or eight people of distinction scattered 
                         around the room. All dressed in full 
                         evening clothes. Among them is Grayson, 
                         Anne, her mother, and one man in aviator's 
                         uniform. The men have their coats and 
                         hats in their hands, the women have 
                         their evening wraps on. Apparently they 
                         are ready to leave for someplace and 
                         are being detained. An indistinct murmur 
                         of ad-lib conversation is heard.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         178. CLOSE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         On Smythe, the butler, as he approaches 
                         Mrs. Schuyler.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Pardon me, madam. They phoned through 
                         from the Mayor's committee to remind 
                         you it's past the hour for the reception.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Are the cars ready?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         They've been ready for the last half 
                         hour.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         179. MED. CLOSE SHOT - GROUP
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Including Captain White, a young, handsome 
                         aviator.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         AVIATOR
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (modestly)
<b>                                     
</b>                         I hope I don't have to make any speeches 
                         tonight, Anne.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, you can't disappoint all the women. 
                         After all it isn't every day they get 
                         to see a famous round-the-world flier.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         AVIATOR
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yes, I know, but they scare me to death. 
                         This is the fourth dinner you've taken 
                         me to this week. I'm running out of 
                         material.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Are you complaining?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ? 73 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         AVIATOR
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yes, there are always too many other 
                         people around.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         LADY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Anne, it's getting late. What are we 
                         waiting for?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         We're waiting for my husband
<b>                                     
</b>                         (lightly, concealing her irritation)
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         If you'll excuse me, I'll run up and 
                         see what the slowpoke's doing.
<b>                                      
</b>                         (to aviator)
<b>                                     
</b>                         I'll be right back
<b>                                     
</b>                         She starts out, climbing stairs to Stew's 
                         room.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         INT. STEW'S BEDROOM
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         180. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew stands in front of a mirror, fumbling 
                         with his dress tie. He pauses, his hands 
                         still on his tie.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (reproachfully)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Stewart! We're all waiting for you. 
                         Where's your valet?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I poisoned him.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stop trying to be funny, and get ready, 
                         will you?
<b>                                      
</b>                         As he struggles with his collar, it 
                         springs off.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I'm not going!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         What are you talking about?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I'm talking about - I'm not going out.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         181. CLOSEUP - ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (controlling her anger)
<b>                                     
</b>                         What am I going downstairs and tell 
                         those people?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Go downstairs, and tell them - anything. 
                         Tell them I'm not going. Tell them I'm 
                         not home.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (getting angrier by the minute)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Stewart, would you mind telling me why 
                         you're not going?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 74 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         182. CLOSEUP - STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yes, I'll tell you - for the same reason 
                         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.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ANNE'S VOICE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Do you know you're talking about my 
                         friends?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yes, I'm talking about your friends, 
                         and they still give me the jitters.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         183. DOUBLE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Well, are you going - or aren't you?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Stew makes a move to embrace her.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Anne, come here. Listen
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (sternly - slipping away from him)
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Look out for my lipstick, Stewart.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I'll tell you what. Let's you and me 
                         sneak out all by ourselves
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (interrupting)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Are you crazy?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Think of the fun we can have - we'll 
                         sneak down the back stairs and get in 
                         the valet's Ford. How's that?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Will you stop being silly, Stewart?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (trying hard)
<b>                                     
</b>                         I'll tell you what let's do - I'll take 
                         you and introduce you to all my gang. 
                         Would you like that?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (hard)
<b>                                     
</b>                         But I don't want to meet your gang.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I don't mean the newspaper fellows that 
                         you don't like. Another gang I know 
                         - you'd love them. They're writers and 
                         musicians and artists - a great crowd 
                         of people - people who do great things. 
                         People who are worthwhile.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 75 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Meaning, my friends aren't worthwhile, 
                         I suppose?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, they're all right, Anne. But I
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (interrupting belligerently)
<b>                                     
</b>                         That's exactly what you mean. Heaven 
                         knows you've made that clear to me often 
                         enough. Well, I'm sick and tired of 
                         it. I've given you party after party 
                         - I've taken you to some of the best 
                         houses in this town - and introduced 
                         you to people of importance - and are 
                         you grateful? No! You insult them and 
                         act like a bore. I'm sick and tired 
                         of having to make excuses for you and 
                         the things that you've done. Perhaps 
                         it's just as well you're not coming 
                         tonight. Maybe I can enjoy myself for 
                         once without having to worry about you, 
                         and what you're going to do.
<b>                                      
</b>                         With which violent declaration, she 
                         flounces out of the room, leaving Stew 
                         staring after her, angry and hurt. Impulsively, 
                         he follows her to the door - a retort 
                         on his lips. When he gets there, however, 
                         she has vanished. He returns to the 
                         room, wanders about thoughtfully, extracts 
                         cigarette from box, fumbles it - walks 
                         to window - stares out - turns back 
                         to room - heaves a lonely sigh.
<b>                                      
</b>                         He notices his reflection in the mirror, 
                         and gestures toward it.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         And that, my friends, is what is known 
                         as the society belle telling ex-star-newspaper-reporter 
                         to go to - how-have-you-been, Mr. Smith!
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         184. CLOSE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         As Stew sits in a typewriter chair. 
                         He rolls up the sheet in the machine 
                         so that he can read what is already 
                         written.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         INSERT: TYPEWRITTEN SHEET, IN TYPEWRITER
</b><b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ACT 1
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         SCENE 1
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         AN HACIENDA IN MEXICO
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Strumming of guitars are dimly heard.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         BACK TO SCENE:
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         He studies it for a moment, frowning 
                         in dissatisfaction. He's stuck. He leans 
                         back in the chair and looks up for inspiration.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         INSERT: A BIG CLOCK, TICKING AWAY THE 
</b><b>                         TIME.
</b><b>                                      
</b><b>                         INT. SCHUYLER GRAND FOYER
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         185. LONG SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Of Stew Smith pacing the grand foyer. 
                         Seen from overhead, he is dwarfed by 
                         the surroundings. He tries hopscotching 
                         on the pattern of the floor. That wears 
                         thin quickly. Supremely bored, Stew 
                         gives a shout and is rewarded with a 
                         cavernous echo. Smythe the butler then 
                         appears, nervously crouched behind some 
                         grillwork.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 76 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         186. MEDIUM SHOT - STEW AND SMYTHE
</b><b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Did you call, sir?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Smythe, come here. I want to talk to 
                         you.
<b>                                      
</b>                         (Smythe looks unenthusiastic.)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Come on, Smythe, talk to me. Smythe, 
                         I'm going nuts. I'm going nuts in this 
                         house! This big . . . come on, I'm not 
                         going to hurt you. Come on, what's the 
                         matter with you?
<b>                                      
</b>                         Stew gives another shout and is rewarded 
                         with another loud echo. This coaxes 
                         Smythe out from behind the grillwork.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Shhh! Do you hear something?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yes, sir.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You try it.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (reluctant)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Me, sir?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yeah.
<b>                                     
</b>                         Smythe gives it a timid try.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         No, no. Give it more volume.
<b>                                     
</b>                         Smythe gives a more satisfactory yell. 
                         Stew nods approval. Smythe begins yelling 
                         and shouting in earnest.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         No, that's enough. I just wanted you 
                         to get the idea. Now you know. This 
                         house is haunted.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (incredulous)
<b>                                     
</b>                         No, sir!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yes. Have you looked in the closets 
                         all over . . .?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yes, sir.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Found no skeletons?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         No, sir.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         It's haunted just the same.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ? 77 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yes, sir.
<b>                                     
</b>                         Smythe has heard enough. He turns to 
                         leave, but Stew grabs him.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Smythe, what do you do with yourself 
                         - I mean, when you're not carrying those 
                         double-strength - what do you do with 
                         yourself?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Well, sir, I putter.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Smythe! I mean - when you're alone and 
                         want to amuse yourself, then what?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I just putter.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Hmmm, you just putter. Do you have to 
                         have a putter to putter?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh no, sir. I putter with me hands.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Well, isn't that nice? You just go right 
                         ahead and putter with your hands. That's 
                         all right. How do you do it?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Well sir, I'll show you.
<b>                                     
</b>                         He demonstrates, touching objects on 
                         a table and blowing dust off a lampshade.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         That's puttering, sir.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         No! Well, well, well! That's all right, 
                         if you like it. Can anybody do that?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh no, sir. Some people are natural 
                         putterers. Others can never master it.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh my. You mean, some people are born 
                         and never will become putterers?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yes sir.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh my, wouldn't that be tragic? To know 
                         that you could never be a putterer.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yes sir.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ? 78 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         How about me? Do you think if I concentrated 
                         and put my whole soul into it, that 
                         some day I might be a putterer?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You sir? Uh-uh. You could never be a 
                         putterer. Not a good putterer, sir.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Well, if I couldn't be a good putterer, 
                         I wouldn't want to putter. But why? 
                         What makes you think I couldn't be a 
                         good putterer?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         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, 
                         sir, a fish can putter in water but 
                         not on land because he'd be out of place. 
                         An eagle can putter around a rugged 
                         mountaintop but not in a cage, because 
                         he'd be restless and unhappy. Now sir, 
                         if you will pardon me, with all due 
                         respect, sir, as a Smythe to a Smith, 
                         you are an eagle in a cage.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         A bird in a gilded cage?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yes.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         That's all I wanted to know!
<b>                                     
</b>                         Stew rushes off upstairs. Smythe gives 
                         the echo one last try.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         FADE OUT:
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         INT. STEW'S ROOM
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         187. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         As Stew makes a telephone call.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Hello, Gallagher old pal. How are you, 
                         old pal?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         INT. GALLAGHER'S ROOM - NIGHT
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         188. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         A simple room, probably in a boarding 
                         house or cheap hotel. Gallagher is on 
                         the phone. A typewriter stands nearby.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, hello Stew. I'm pretty good, can't 
                         complain. How's our gentleman of leisure?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         CONTINUATION SCENE 187
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew at phone.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I'm on the coast of Norway and I can't 
                         get out - will you come and get me out 
                         of the coast of Norway?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CONTINUATION SCENE 188
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Gallagher at phone.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ? 79 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, your play. Hmmm, Act One, Scene 
                         One: Coast of Norway - and then a lot 
                         of blank. Is that it?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CONTINUATION SCENE 187
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew at phone.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yeah. Come on, don't be silly.
<b>                                     
</b>                         (pause)
<b>                                     
</b>                         All right, if you feel like you need 
                         a chaper-one, call up Hank. Yeah. You'll 
                         find him at Joe's, no doubt. Yeah. Hank 
                         would be my idea of a perfect bodyguard.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         (pause)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Sure you would. I knew I could depend 
                         on you, old pal. Snap it up, will you, 
                         Gallagher?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CONTINUATION SCENE 188
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Gallagher at phone.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Okay.
<b>                                     
</b>                         She hangs up, joyful at the prospect 
                         of seeing Stew. She hums softly to herself 
                         as she picks up the receiver again.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         INT. SCHUYLER ENTRANCE HALL - NIGHT
</b><b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         189. MED. SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         SOUND
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (bell ringing)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Stew comes out of the library. Smythe 
                         is going down the hall. Stew intercepts 
                         him.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Smythe, I'll get this. I'm expecting 
                         some friends.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Very good, sir.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         190. MED. CLOSE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         At entrance door. Stew enters and opens 
                         it. Gallagher and Hank enter.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Well, Gallagher! Glad to see you.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Hello, Stew.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Hello, Hank. How are you?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         HANK
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Fine, but kinda thirsty.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Come right in - I'll get you a drink.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         HANK
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Okay - you remember Joe
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ? 80 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Sure.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         HANK
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I sort of invited him along to bend 
                         an elbow. You don't mind, do you?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         It's all right. Bring him in.
<b>                                     
</b>                         Joe appears in the open doorway. Stew 
                         sees him.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         HANK
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Come in, Joe. It's all right.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Hello, Joe.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         JOE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Hello kid, how are you? Glad to see 
                         you.
<b>                                      
</b>                         Stew starts to close the door.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         JOE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Just a minute - Johnson's outside. You 
                         don't mind if he comes in and dips a 
                         beak[17] do you?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         No, no, bring him in. The more the merrier.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         JOE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Come on in!
<b>                                     
</b>                         Johnson appears in the open doorway. 
                         Stew sees him.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Hello, Johnson.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         JOHNSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Hello, Stew, old pal. How are you?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Glad to see you. Come in, kid.
<b>                                     
</b>                         Stew starts to close the door.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         JOHNSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Wait a minute. I got two of the boys 
                         I brought along - they were cruising 
                         around with nothing to do. You don't 
                         mind if I bring them in?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You brought two of the boys? That's 
                         all right. Bring them in. What's the 
                         difference?
<b>                                      
</b>                         The two enter, followed in a single 
                         file by 12-14 men and women, all of 
                         whom greet Stew as they enter, ad-libbing 
                         hello's and hand-shakes. Stew stares 
                         at them dumbfoundedly.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         191. MEDIUM FULL SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         They swarm into the hallway and overflow 
                         into the rooms on either side. The butler 
                         stands aghast at this invasion. Stew 
                         starts to close the door when three 
                         or four more troop in, shouting cheery 
                         greetings. Stew regards them in amazement.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ? 81 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         192. CLOSER SHOT - STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         As he watches them file past.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I'm sorry nobody could come.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         HANK
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         The rest of the gang had to get out 
                         the morning edition - but they'll be 
                         down later.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Now Hank, are you sure they're coming? 
                         It will be lonesome without them.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         (to Smythe)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Smythe, take this crowd in there and 
                         give them a drink. And find out what 
                         the boys in the back room want!
<b>                                      
</b>                         Smythe gulps nervously, as he is dragged 
                         off by the revellers.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         INT. SCHUYLER DRAWING ROOM
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         193. FULL SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         The gang have taken seriously Stew's 
                         suggestion that they make themselves 
                         at home. They have draped themselves 
                         about the place - a couple are strumming 
                         on the piano and others are inspecting 
                         the room in awe-struck attitudes. Smythe 
                         is being propelled around the room by 
                         the revellers.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         It isn't done, gentlemen! It isn't done, 
                         I say! It isn't done!
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         INT. SCHUYLER ENTRANCE HALL
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         194. MEDIUM SHOT - GALLAGHER AND STEW
</b><b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Well, Gallagher, you certainly took 
                         no chances, did you?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I'm sorry, Stew. I asked Hank, and Hank 
                         did the rest.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I see. Hank brought them all. That's 
                         all right. We'll give them a drink and 
                         throw 'em out. How's that?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Okay.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (as Smythe passes by, being propelled 
                         by revellers)
<b>                                      
</b>                         Smythe! Give them one drink and throw 
                         'em out!
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (dazed)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Yes, sir.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ? 82 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Bingy pokes his head in the door, wearing 
                         a false beard.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (spotting him)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Is there a green elephant standing beside 
                         that bwana?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         No, it's just little Bingy Baker.
<b>                                     
</b>                         Stew rolls up his sleeves, preparatory 
                         to launching a punch.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (warningly)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Uh-uh.
<b>                                     
</b>                         Bingy dons a pair of glasses, and points 
                         to them meaningfully. He enters, cautiously, 
                         watching Stew warily.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (striking a pose)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Big Chief Bingy come to white man's 
                         tepee to make friends. Big Chief very 
                         sorry. To show how sorry - will bend 
                         over and let white man kick Big Chief 
                         where sun never shines.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Excuse me, Gallagher. I wouldn't miss 
                         this one for the world.
<b>                                      
</b>                         He bends over, and Stew winds up and 
                         delivers a hard kick to his backside. 
                         Bingy straightens stiffly, then removes 
                         a bottle of alcohol from the target 
                         area.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Fire water all right.
<b>                                     
</b>                         (he takes a drink)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Both start laughing.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Well, Stew, that's all thrashed out. 
                         By golly, I'm surely glad to see that 
                         you're not really sore. You know our 
                         racket - after all, news is news.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Sure, sure. That's all right. That was 
                         a great story, Bingy. A great story 
                         - wish I'd printed it.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I gave you the breaks, didn't I? That 
                         hairy chest story!
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (indicating Bingy's false beard)
<b>                                     
</b>                         You've raised it up to the chin, I see.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         (laughs)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Go on in the other room and get yourself 
                         a drink.
<b>                                      
</b>                         Bingy emits a war-whoop and proceeds 
                         into the drawing room, where Smythe 
                         is still being held hostage by the party.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ? 83 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         195. CLOSER SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Gallagher and Stew.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You know what I should do with you? 
                         I should sock you right in that funny 
                         little nose.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yes - and I'd love it.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Sure, you'd love it.
<b>                                     
</b>                         He draws her out of the entrance hall, 
                         and the CAMERA MOVES WITH THEM as they 
                         head upstairs, the party around them 
                         going in full force.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         INT. STEW'S SITTING ROOM
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         196. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew and Gallagher enter. Apparently 
                         they have been talking about Stew's 
                         play on the way upstairs.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         How far have you gotten?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Well, I've just been able to get off 
                         that Norway coast - so far.
<b>                                      
</b>                         Stew gestures toward the typewriter 
                         from which a sheet of paper is protruding. 
                         Gallagher crosses to it. She rolls up 
                         the sheet so she can read what is typed 
                         on it.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (reading)
<b>                                     
</b>                         'Act One - Scene One - A Street in Old 
                         Madrid'
<b>                                      
</b>                         She turns as Stew walks over to her.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (smiling)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Well, you're not getting your play done, 
                         but you're certainly covering a lot 
                         of territory.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (grins)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Haven't I covered some territory? It 
                         feels like I've been on a Cook's Tour[18] 
                         some place.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         197. CLOSER TWO SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew, standing before her.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (seriously)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Stewart, have you ever been to Old Madrid?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (grinning in spite of himself)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Been where?
<b>                                     
</b>                         Gallagher
<b>                                     
</b>                         To Old Madrid.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ? 84 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Never even been to New Madrid.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Then how do you expect to write about 
                         it?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh - draw on my imagination, I suppose.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Did Conrad draw on his imagination?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Stew is brought up with a start.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Did who?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Conrad.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         What do you know about Conrad?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I don't know a thing about him, but 
                         isn't he the one you're always yelling 
                         about?
<b>                                      
</b>                         Stew is noticeably impressed with this 
                         point of view.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Gosh, you look cute.
<b>                                     
</b>                         Gallagher warms up to her subject.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Isn't he the one that always writes 
                         about things - only the things he knows 
                         about?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Right.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Didn't he go to sea before he wrote 
                         about it?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Right.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         198. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Then why don't you write about something 
                         you know? Write about yourself and Anne. 
                         The poor boy who marries a rich girl 
                         - now there's a swell theme.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Gee, that's an idea, Gallagher. That's 
                         an idea there. I wonder now . . .
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, sure. She'd make a beautiful heroine 
<b>                         . . .
</b><b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 85 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (warming up - he puts arm around Gallagher's 
                         shoulder)
<b>                                      
</b>                         And there's her mother - and what a 
                         character that old dame would make with 
                         her double-strength - and that lawyer 
                         friend of theirs - he'd make a great 
                         villain - and there's you!
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (smiling)
<b>                                     
</b>                         What could I be?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You could be something.
<b>                                     
</b>                         (inspiration striking, he dashes to 
                         the typewriter)
<b>                                      
</b>                         I've got an idea, Gallagher. Let's get 
                         this set. That's a great idea for a 
                         play. Pal, get me a cigarette, will 
                         you?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Here you are.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         All right, thanks. Now, let's see. How 
                         will I start? Hey pal, how would you 
                         start?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         LAP DISSOLVE TO:
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         INT. SCHUYLER ENTRANCE HALL
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         199. MED. FULL SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Shooting through into the drawing room. 
                         It is many hours later. The members 
                         of the party, including Smythe, are 
                         pretty well lit. On the floor of the 
                         entrance hall a dice game is in progress. 
                         In the drawing room four or five are 
                         hanging over the piano singing "The 
                         Grasshopper Jumped Over Another Grasshopper's 
                         Back."
<b>                                      
</b>                         In general, a large time is being had. 
                         As the scene opens a door-bell is ringing. 
                         A key is heard in the lock.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         200. CLOSER SHOT - GROUP - IN ENTRANCE 
</b><b>                         HALL
</b><b>                                      
</b>                         The outer door starts to swing open. 
                         One of the party guests, very wall-eyed 
                         now, and carrying a whiskey bottle in 
                         his hand, staggers toward the door. 
                         It opens wider, and Anne and Mrs. Schuyler 
                         and Dexter Grayson stand gasping in 
                         the opening. The guest comes up to them.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         GUEST
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (starting to close door)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Say, you can't come in here - this is 
                         a private party.
<b>                                      
</b>                         Anne pushes the door violently, which 
                         sends the guest sprawling. He stays 
                         where he lands, holding the bottle in 
                         both arms across his chest. Anne and 
                         her mother advance into a CLOSE SHOT 
                         and look off with incredulous horror 
                         and amazement.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         201. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         On a drunk Bingy as he peers at them 
                         from an alcove above.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         BINGY
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (recognizing Grayson)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Hey, my old classmate from Harvard! 
                         Whoopee! Harvard, '98!
<b>                                      
</b>                         (spotting Mrs. Schuyler)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Hello, mama!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ? 86 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         202. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Most are too cock-eyed or too engrossed 
                         in the ongoing crap game to notice them.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         DEXTER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I know who's the cause of it all!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, Dexter!
<b>                                     
</b>                         One of the men wanders in from the drawing 
                         room in time to hear this conversation. 
                         He assumes an attitude of exaggerated 
                         courtesy and gallantry as he bows before 
                         them.
<b>                                      
</b>                         Anne and her mother are almost bursting 
                         with fury. They spot Smythe, across 
                         the room, thoroughly in his cups.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (to butler)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Smythe! Smythe - who are these people?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Smythe comes stumbling up, a grin plastered 
                         on his face.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (thoroughly plastered)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Friends of mine. Very lit-lit-literary 
                         people.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (confidentially, to Mrs. Schuyler)
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         He's drunk.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (aghast)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Smythe, you've been drinking.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (proudly)
<b>                                     
</b>                         I have. Double-strength!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (confidentially)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Very drunk.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (indignant)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Where is Mr. Smith?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         SMYTHE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Well, for crying out loud, I don't know. 
                         And I don't care. Whoopee!
<b>                                      
</b>                         He jubilantly exits scene.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (confidentially)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Very, very drunk.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         INT. STEW'S SITTING ROOM
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         203. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew gets to his feet as an idea strikes 
                         him.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Now Gallagher, if we could only get 
                         a great scene - a tremendously emotional 
                         scene - some-
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 87 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         thing that would just wring the hearts 
                         out of the public - to bring the curtain 
                         down in the second act - that would 
                         be okay. Couldn't dig one out of your 
                         hat some place, could you?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Nope - afraid I'm all out of tricks 
                         tonight.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Now, we've got it right up to where 
                         the boy's wearing his white spats and 
                         going to teas and the frau enters - 
                         how's that?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Very good.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         204. MED. CLOSE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         At the partially opened door into the 
                         hall. It opens wider, and Anne looks 
                         in. She stares in horrified amazement.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         205. MEDIUM SHOT (FROM HER ANGLE)
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Gallagher, her shoes off, sprawled out 
                         on the chaise longue, stretches luxuriously 
                         and yawns. CAMERA PANS TO Stew at the 
                         typewriter, hair mussed, coffee pot 
                         and cups prominent, the dressing gown 
                         over the back of his chair. Neither 
                         of them has seen Anne.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         CONTINUATION SCENE 204
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Anne. She gasps as she quietly steps 
                         further into the room.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         206. CLOSE SHOT - GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Gallagher, caught in the midst of a 
                         grand stretch, sits up abruptly, startled. 
                         She stares uncomfortably off at Anne.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         207. CLOSE SHOT - STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         At the typewriter. He glances up momentarily 
                         and very absently, and goes right on 
                         typing.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (absently)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Oh hello, Anne
<b>                                     
</b>                         He types furiously.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (tight-lipped)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Good morning. What does this mean?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Stewart looks up surprised at the tone 
                         of her voice.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         What does what mean?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         208. MEDIUM SHOT - THE THREE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Gallagher, sensing scene, starts hastily 
                         looking for her shoes. One of them has 
                         been shoved under the chaise longue 
                         and she has to get down on her hands 
                         and knees to retrieve it. Anne comes 
                         in and confronts them, her hands on 
                         her hips.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, that mob downstairs. I guess I got 
                         so interested in the play I forgot all 
                         about them.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I see.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ? 88 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Have we got a play, Anne? Oh, have we 
                         got a play! Of course most of it is 
                         Gallagher's. She did most of it. That 
                         brain of hers just snaps like that all 
                         the time.
<b>                                      
</b>                         He indicates by snapping his fingers. 
                         Gallagher quietly gathers up her things, 
                         apprehensive of the storm about to break.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (coldly)
<b>                                     
</b>                         I'm not interested in the way her brain 
                         snaps.
<b>                                      
</b>                         Stew stares at Anne as Gallagher, her 
                         hat in her hand, her coat over her arm, 
                         starts for the door.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I think I better go, Stew.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I think you should, Miss Gallagher.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Wait a minute, Gallagher.
<b>                                     
</b>                         Gallagher stops, transfixed by the new 
                         tone in his voice. He comes over to 
                         Anne.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         209. CLOSE TWO SHOT - ANNE AND STEW
</b><b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         What's the idea, Anne?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         The idea is simply this - that I want 
                         those people to leave here immediately.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Now wait a minute. Aren't you being 
                         a little unreasonable?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Unreasonable! Have you any idea what 
                         the place looks like downstairs? Do 
                         you expect me to stand here and see 
                         this place turned into a cheap barroom?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Now wait, don't get excited, Anne. There's 
                         no reason for that. Perhaps the boys 
                         have had a little too much to drink. 
                         That's all right. I'm sorry. I'll go 
                         right down and throw them out. That's 
                         no reason for you to take this attitude. 
                         After all, I certainly have a right 
                         to invite a few of my friends to my 
                         house, haven't I?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (pointedly)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Your house?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (getting the implication; after a pause)
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         O-o-oh, I get you
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ? 89 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (a knowing chuckle)
<b>                                     
</b>                         All right. All right. I don't blame 
                         you. I kinda forgot myself for a moment, 
                         there. That's what I call getting me 
                         told, isn't it, Anne?
<b>                                      
</b>                         Anne remains silent. That's exactly 
                         what she has done.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I suppose I've been boarding out this 
                         past year.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         210. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         He takes his coat off back of chair 
                         and slips into it.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (quietly; grimly)
<b>                                     
</b>                         All right, I'll tell you thisI don't 
                         like your boarding house, lady
<b>                                      
</b>                         As he gathers up loose manuscript, he 
                         continues . . .
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         and if it's all the same to you, I'm 
                         moving out.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stewart!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (hotly)
<b>                                     
</b>                         This is something I should have done 
                         a long time ago, only I didn't have 
                         sense enough to do it. No, I had to 
                         stick around here to try and make a 
                         success of something that I knew darn 
                         well was a failure from the very beginning. 
                         But no more. No more! So that's that.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You can't walk out of here like this.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Throughout the scene, Stew is gathering 
                         his things togetherand probably packing 
                         an overnight bag.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Oh I can't? Who's going to stop me? 
                         I'd like to see somebody stop me. If 
                         you think I'm going to stick around 
                         this joint just to look at this mausoleum, 
                         not on your life! You're going to make 
                         no stuffed shirt out of me. Now what 
                         do you think of that?
<b>                                      
</b>                         Mrs. Schuyler stalks majestically in.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         What's going on here? Who is this woman?
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (snappily)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Joan of Arc! What's it to you?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         MRS. SCHUYLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Heavens! The man's insane!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ? 90 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         211. CLOSEUP - STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Sure I'm insane, but I've got some good 
                         news for you.
<b>                                      
</b>                         (points to himself)
<b>                                     
</b>                         This magnolia is leaving your sweet 
                         smelling vanilla joint. This bird in 
                         a cage is gonna button his own pants 
                         from now on. And that is what is known 
                         as telling the mother-in-law.
<b>                                      
</b>                         Gallagher's cry of joy is cut off by 
                         an icy look from Mrs. Schuyler.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Eurek!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         212. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew is stuffing things into a bag.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (heatedly to Anne)
<b>                                     
</b>                         You've done nothing but watch me - watch 
                         me! - ever since I've been here. Treated 
                         me like a thug, watched me like a hawk, 
                         mistrusted me. Every time I leave the 
                         house, that Jane
<b>                                      
</b>                         (indicating Mrs. Schuyler)
<b>                                     
</b>                         goes out and counts the silverware.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         That's ridiculous.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Fine! I don't blame her. I know I'm 
                         out of my own crowd. I should have had 
                         better sense in the beginning. But I'll 
                         stay in my own backyard from now on.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You're acting like a child.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         All right, I'm a child. Have it any 
                         way you want. But I'm going back to 
                         my own apartment, where I should have 
                         lived in the first place. But no, I 
                         got to listen to you and move here. 
                         All right. If you want to live with 
                         me, Anne, okay. But the sign outside 
                         will say "Mr. Stew Smith" and you'll 
                         have to be "Mrs. Stew Smith" or there's 
                         nothing doing. No more Anne Schuyler's 
                         husband
<b>                                      
</b>                         He has his bag all packed by this time. 
                         He snaps it shut viciously, lifts it 
                         off the chair, picks up his hat, and 
                         notices Mrs. Schuyler staring open-mouthed 
                         at him.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (to Mrs. Schuyler, pointedly)
<b>                                     
</b>                         and here's some more news for you. 
                         You can take your red room, your green 
                         room, your left wing and your right 
                         wing, and you know what you can do with 
                         them!
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 91 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (to Gallagher)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Come on, Gallagher.
<b>                                     
</b>                         He brushes by Mrs. Schuyler and Anne, 
                         exiting.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ANNE
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (exasperated)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, Stewart!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         EXT. SCHUYLER HOME - NIGHT
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         213. MEDIUM SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew and Gallagher appear, coming through 
                         the iron gates.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         214. MEDIUM MOVING SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         As Stew and Gallagher move off down 
                         the street, a ragged old panhandler 
                         comes wheedling up to them.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         PANHANDLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Pardon me, could you spare a dime for 
                         a cup of coffee?
<b>                                      
</b>                         Stew is struck by a sudden idea as he 
                         regards the bum intently.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Coffee? How would you like to be a Knight 
                         of the Garter?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         PANHANDLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (stupidly)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Huh! No
<b>                                     
</b>                         Stew raises one foot, then the other, 
                         and quickly removes the solid gold garters 
                         which he presses into the bum's surprised 
                         hand.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (as he removes the garters)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Just a minute.
<b>                                     
</b>                         (to Gallagher)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Entertain the gentleman, Gallagher.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         (to the panhandler)
<b>                                     
</b>                         There you are, my man - with those you 
                         can eat for a couple of months.
<b>                                      
</b>                         He walks away, leaving the bum staring 
                         dazedly at the luxurious pair of garters.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         PANHANDLER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (an afterthought)
<b>                                     
</b>                         How about the socks?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         215. MED. CLOSE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         As Stew and Gallagher pass the Camera 
                         and go down the street, arm in arm. 
                         As they get past the Camera, Stew is 
                         seen to square his shoulders and throw 
                         out his chest. He shakes first one leg, 
                         and then the other, as if he were throwing 
                         off shackles.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         216. CLOSER MOVING SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew and Gallagher moving along. Gallagher 
                         has a peculiar expression as she glances 
                         at Stew. She has been deeply affected 
                         by the scene she has just witnessed. 
                         Stew's face is very thoughtful.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (comfortingly)
<b>                                     
</b>                         I wouldn't worry too much about it, 
                         Stew. She'll see it your way.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 92 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Huh?
<b>                                     
</b>                         (snapping out of it)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Oh, I'm not worrying about her - I'm 
                         worrying about that second act curtain, 
                         that's all.
<b>                                      
</b>                         Gallagher stares at him, realizing he 
                         is thinking more about the play than 
                         his split-up with his wife. Then she 
                         breaks into a grin.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Why, you're just a first-class chump! 
                         You just staged a scene that would play 
                         like a million dollars! How about that 
                         declaration of independence for the 
                         second act curtain?
<b>                                      
</b>                         Stew stops stock still and stares at 
                         her.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (almost reverently)
<b>                                     
</b>                         That's an idea, Gallagher - a great 
                         idea.
<b>                                      
</b>                         Gallagher happily links her arm in his 
                         and again they move down the street.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         FADE OUT:
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         FADE IN
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         INSERT: CLOSE SHOT OF NAME PLATE OVER 
</b><b>                         DOORBELL
</b><b>                                      
</b><b>                         "STEWART SMITH"
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         LAP DISSOLVE TO:
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         INSERT: SHEET IN TYPEWRITER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         On it is being typed:
<b>                                     
</b>                         Act 3. Scene 1.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         LAP DISSOLVE TO:
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         217. INT. STEW'S APARTMENT - DAY - MED. 
</b><b>                         FULL SHOT
</b><b>                                      
</b>                         Inexpensive but comfortable. Stew is 
                         in his shirtsleeves. A battered old 
                         typewriter stands on the table with 
                         a sheet of blank paper in it. Stew is 
                         seated in a chair before it, and is 
                         picking out the letters, typing. He 
                         pauses, running up the roller to regard 
                         what he has written.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         218. INT. STEW'S KITCHENETTE - MED. 
</b><b>                         SHOT
</b><b>                                      
</b>                         Gallagher, in a little apron, is frying 
                         some ham and eggs. She looks up as she 
                         sees Stew from the doorway.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Hey, Gallagher!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yeah?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         How about my breakfast? How do you expect 
                         me to ring a curtain down on an empty 
                         stomach?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         It'll be ready in a minute.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ? 93 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (accusingly)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Never mind that. If you can't get my 
                         breakfast ready - and can't get here 
                         on time in the morning - then you can 
                         go get yourself another job.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (in mock contrition)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Sorry, boss
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Don't be sorry. Just get the breakfast, 
                         that's all.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         219. INT. STEW'S LIVING ROOM - MED. 
</b><b>                         SHOT
</b><b>                                      
</b>                         There is a knock on the hall door.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Stew crosses and opens it.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         220. CLOSER SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         As Stew opens the door. It reveals Dexter 
                         Grayson in the little hallway, immaculately 
                         clad, as usual. Stew regards him in 
                         frank surprise for a moment.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Hello, Smith.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (puzzled)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Holy jumping swordfish!
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I suppose you know why I came?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         No, I have no idea - unless some of 
                         the silver-ware is missing.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Now don't be absurd, Smith
<b>                                     
</b>                         (as he brushes past, walking inside)
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         May I come in?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Surely, come right in.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (as he sits down)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Thanks. May I sit down?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Surely, sit down. If I had known you 
                         were coming, I would have thrown you 
                         up a waffle.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I don't eat waffles.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         You don't.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         221. MED. SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Grayson sits stiffly on one of the Grand 
                         Rapids chairs. Stew remains standing, 
                         and waits silently for Grayson to speak. 
                         Grayson clears his throat.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 94 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Anne asked me to come and see you about 
                         the divorce.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (with enlightened expression)
<b>                                     
</b>                         She did?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (uncomfortably)
<b>                                     
</b>                         She wants me to arrange the financial 
                         settlement.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Listen Grayson, I've got 106 bucks and 
                         75 cents in the bank. Now Anne can have 
                         any part of that she wants, but she'd 
                         better hurry because I'm spending it 
                         awfully fast.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (interrupting)
<b>                                     
</b>                         You don't seem to understand. Anne doesn't 
                         expect anything from you.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         222. INT. STEW'S KITCHENETTE - MED. 
</b><b>                         SHOT
</b><b>                                      
</b>                         Gallagher. Overcome by curiosity at 
                         the sound of voices, she leaves the 
                         frying eggs and goes quietly to the 
                         doorway and peeks out.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         223. MED. SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Grayson and Stew.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         We should like to know how much you 
                         would want to
<b>                                      
</b>                         Stew stares off incredulously.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (interrupting)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Wait a minute. Do I get from you that 
                         she wants to pay me alimony?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         That's putting it crudely, but
<b>                                     
</b>                         Stew starts advancing nervously toward 
                         him. Grayson, a bit alarmed, rises.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (closing in on him)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Remember what I told you about that 
                         twentieth crack? All right, you've just 
                         made it. Before you go unconscious I 
                         want you to get this through your nut.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         I beg your pardon.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Unconscious. You know, when you don't 
                         know anything. Your natural state. There 
                         are some people - you can't buy their 
                         self-respect for a bucket of shekels 
                         - well, I happen to be one of those 
                         guys.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 95 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         224. CLOSE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Showing kitchen door open a crack. Gallagher's 
                         eyes are glistening as she watches and 
                         listens.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         225. MED. CLOSE SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew and Grayson.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (weakly)
<b>                                     
</b>                         We just thought that
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (snaps)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Don't think. Let me do all the thinking. 
                         Now you go back to that Schuyler outfit 
                         and tell them that I didn't marry that 
                         dame for her dough and I don't want 
                         any of her dough now. I was too poor 
                         to buy her a wedding present when we 
                         got married, so I'm giving her a divorce 
                         for a wedding present. Now, stand up!
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Grayson does so, completely intimidated 
                         by Stew's manner. Stew grabs him by 
                         the lapel.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GRAYSON
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Yes.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         And now for that twentieth crack
<b>                                     
</b>                         Stew punches Grayson on chin and knocks 
                         him through the open door into the hall.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         He slams door shut.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         226. WIDER SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew thrusts his hands into his pockets 
                         and walks thoughtfully back to the typewriter.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         227. CLOSER SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Stew standing staring down at the typewriter. 
                         He is still flushed with anger. Suddenly 
                         a thought strikes him, and his face 
                         breaks into a broad grin. He sits down 
                         quickly, and begins pounding away.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         228. MED. SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Gallagher enters from the kitchen, carrying 
                         a platter of ham and eggs and a coffee 
                         pot. She sets them on a small table 
                         and this is spread with a cloth. Then 
                         she crosses over to Stew.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (pretending ignorance)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Who was that?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (without looking up from his typing)
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Grayson - Anne's lawyer.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         What did he want?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Gallagher, that guy just dropped by 
                         to give us a great opening for the third 
                         act.
<b>                                      
</b>                         They sit at the little table.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         ? 96 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         229. CLOSER SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         What was the idea he gave you?
<b>                                     
</b>                         Stew dives into the ham and eggs.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         It's a swell idea, Gallagher. How's 
                         this? The wife's family lawyer comes 
                         to see the kid, see - to talk over the 
                         divorce. Then this guy insults the poor 
                         but honest boy by offering him alimony 
                         - so the kid gets sore, socks the lawyer 
                         in the nose and throws him out. How's 
                         that for the beginning of the third 
                         act, huh?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Well, from now on the play will be easy. 
                         All you have to do is bring the wife 
                         back, have her say she's sorry, and 
                         then your play's over.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         230. CLOSEUP - STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         He looks over at Gallagher with a peculiar 
                         expression.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (vehemently - as he scoops out some 
                         melon)
<b>                                      
</b>                         What's the matter? Do you think I'm 
                         going to let that guy go back to his 
                         wife? Not on your life. He's got to 
                         go to the other girl.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         231. CLOSEUP - GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         She almost drops her coffee cup in a 
                         wild gleam of hope as she looks back 
                         at him. Gallagher tries hard to keep 
                         her voice steady.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (not sure of herself)
<b>                                     
</b>                         What other girl?
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         232. MED. CLOSE SHOT OF THE TWO
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         The little O'Brien girl, of course - 
                         the one you suggested in the story.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (ecstatic, but still fighting)
<b>                                     
</b>                         But that's ridiculous! You can't make 
                         a sudden change like that.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Gallagher, what are you going to do 
                         - tell me how to write a play?
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         GALLAGHER
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         No.
<b>                                     
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         There's nothing sudden about that
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         (tensely)
<b>                                     
</b>                         He's always loved the girl, but he was 
                         such a sap he didn't have sense enough 
                         to tell her. Well, that's all right 
                         - we can fix that. He will
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         ? 97 ?
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         go to the little O'Brien girl, and - 
                         here, I'll show you.
<b>                                      
</b>                         He gets to his feet, and comes around 
                         to her.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         233. CLOSE TWO SHOT
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         Gallagher watches him a bit uncertainly.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (tenderly)
<b>                                     
</b>                         He goes to the little O'Brien gal and 
                         he says to her - in some pretty words 
                         of some kind - something that you can 
                         write - he'll say
<b>                                      
</b>                         (as if reading part - very emotional)
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         Darling, I'm sorry. I've been a fool 
                         all my life. I've always loved you, 
                         only I didn't have sense enough to see 
                         it. As quick as I can get a divorce 
                         from my wife, I want you to marry me. 
                         Then she'll look at him that way - yeah 
                         - then they'll embrace, or something 
                         like that.
<b>                                      
</b>                         (they draw closer)
<b>                                     
</b>                         Then he'll kiss her, or something.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b>                         To demonstrate the point, Stew takes 
                         her in his arms and kisses her. They 
                         hold the kiss longer than is justified. 
                         Stew is swept away by his sudden emotion 
                         and clings to her desperately, while 
                         Gallagher's arms instinctively go around 
                         his neck.
<b>                                      
</b>                         Gallagher chokes back tears that persist 
                         in coming. She stifles a sob. Stew folds 
                         her in his arms.
<b>                                      
</b><b>                         STEW
</b><b>                                     
</b>                         (tenderly)
<b>                                     
</b>                         What's the matter, Gallagher? What's 
                         the matter?
<b>                                      
</b>                         Gallagher buries her face in his shoulders.
<b> 
</b><b>                                                              
</b><b>                         FADE OUT.
</b><b>                                     
</b><b>                         THE END
</b></pre><br>
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	<td><h1>Platinum Blonde</h1><br><br>
	    <b>Writers</b> : &nbsp;&nbsp;<a href="/writer.php?w=Harry E. Chandlee" title="Scripts by Harry E. Chandlee">Harry E. Chandlee</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;<a href="/writer.php?w=Douglas W. Churchill" title="Scripts by Douglas W. Churchill">Douglas W. Churchill</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;<a href="/writer.php?w=Robert Riskin" title="Scripts by Robert Riskin">Robert Riskin</a><br>
    	<b>Genres</b> : &nbsp;&nbsp;<a href="/genre/Comedy" title="Comedy Scripts">Comedy</a>&nbsp;&nbsp;<a href="/genre/Romance" title="Romance Scripts">Romance</a><br><br><br>
		
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Which ambassador do the Schuylers hold a reception for?
Which ambassador do the Schuylers hold a reception for ?
The Spanish Ambassador.
The Spanish Ambassador .
Spanish
Spanish