All language subtitles for pilastuu

GIRL: Tracy!

Tracy!

Tracy!

Tracy!

-Tracy!
-How do you spell "omelet"?

Oh, you.

Ninety-four for the ceremony
and 506 for the reception.

I don't know where we'll put them all
if it should rain.

Oh, it won't rain.
Tracy won't stand for it.

Mother, how do you spell "omelet"?

O-M-M-E-L-E-T.

I thought there was another "L."

That's a funny wedding present,
an omelet.

It was a dish, dear, a silver dish.

TRACY:
Bring some of that junk off the table.

Mother, be an angel
and get these things out of the way.

Yes, darling.

This stinks.

Don't say "stinks," darling.

If absolutely necessary, "smells."
But only if absolutely necessary.

These cards have been changed again.

There must be a ghost
loose in the house.

Maybe the ghost
of bridegroom number one.

Oh, don't talk about Dexter
as though he were dead.

-He might just as well be, for all Tracy cares.
-Right.

Oh, I wouldn't say that, dear.

Mother, if I never see
Mr. C.K. Dexter Haven again, I'll be –

-Isn't that awful.
-They're friends of your father's.

Wouldn't you know it.
What are they?

Tap dancers
or just musical comedy producers?

Well, that's hardly fair
to your father's interest in the arts.

Art, my eye. The art of putting up $100,000
to display the shapely legs of –

-That will do, Tracy.
-Oh, I give up.

If you'd just face the facts
squarely, as I did.

We both might face the fact
that neither of us has proved to be

a very great success as a wife.

We just picked the wrong first husbands,
that's all.

(chuckles)
Well, don't let's argue about it.

You wanted me to take a stand
and I've taken it.

It's the only stand a woman could take
and keep her self-respect.

Yes, dear, I know.

Now I have my self-respect
and no husband.

You almost talk as though
you wanted him back.

He wouldn't come back, probably.

Hey, it's better this way, really.
You'll see.

Let's forget about the past.
We both deserve some happiness now.

-Especially you.
-Darling.

-Isn't George an angel?
-George is an angel.

-Is he handsome, or is he not?
-George is handsome.

-I like Dexter.
-TRACY: Really?

Why don't you postpone the wedding?

-How?
-Get smallpox.

-Don't put the idea in her head.
-George isn't usually late.

-He's waiting for us at the stables.
-Waiting for –

Mother, if I don't choke her
before Saturday –

-It'd postpone the wedding, wouldn't it?
-It would not.

Be in the car when I get down.

-She's so mean about Dexter.
-He was rather mean to her, my dear.

-Did he really sock her?
-Please, Dinah.

But did he, really?

Darling, you go out and wait in the car.

-Well, the papers were full of "innundo."
-Of what?

Of "innundo."
Cruelty and drunkenness, it said.

Mother, why won't Tracy
ask her own father to the wedding?

Your sister has very definite opinions
about certain things.

She's sort of –

Well, you know.

-Hard, isn't she?
-Certainly not.

Tracy sets exceptionally high standards
for herself, that's all.

And other people aren't always
quite apt to live up to them.

But don't you think it's stinking
not at least to want Father?

Yes, darling, between ourselves,
I think it's good and stinking.

Oh, I wish something would happen.

Nothing ever possibly in the least
ever happens here.

Mother.

How do you get smallpox?

Oh, Dinah, please go. Go.

TRACY (whispering):
This is Uncle Willie's favorite.

Complete Surrender.

(inhales, exhales)

Oh.

Where'd you get this idiotic thing
anyway?

Hey!

Never play with fire, child,
particularly on the eve of your wedding.

You're really a wicked old man,
aren't you, Uncle Willie?

Who takes this, anyway? Your cook?

I love it.
It's got pictures of everything.

It certainly has.

Who is that terribly attractive man?
Can Tracy pick 'em, or can't she?

-If you're asking me –
-I'm not.

-Hello, darling.
-Hello.

-Well, how do you like me?
-I adore you.

-But you look awful.
-Awful?

You look like something
right out of a shop window.

-Well, Tracy, I –
-Oh...

Hey, wh – Ouch!

Say, listen, cut it out! They're new!

That's just it.
They're new, but they're not going to be.

-There. That's better.
-(chuckles) I don't get it.

When I was a coal miner, the idea was to
get enough money to buy clean clothes.

Now that I'm general manager –

Say, Dinah, is there anything in there
about the wedding?

What do you mean?

Well, I thought maybe you – you being
one of the oldest families in Philadelphia

and me getting fairly important myself –

It's luck, of course, but I –

What's the matter?

"An average day in the life of a congressman.

The congressman's wife.

The kitchen where is prepared
one banana, sliced, two fried eggs.

The congressman
kisses his wife good morning."

-Lots of people like publicity.
-Of all the filthy ideas.

Coming into a private house
with a camera. Ugh!

George Kittredge, you get on that horse.

What do you think of that?

What would happen if I took it into my head
someday to go into politics?

-You'd be elected president.
-I don't know about that.

-I mean, about publicity.
-Not in my home.

You mean our home, don't you?

Sorry, darling.
I mean very much our home.

No, never mind, Eddie.
I'll get up myself.

(grunting) Steady, Bessie.

Whoa, Bessie, whoa.

That's it – Whoa, Bessie, whoa!

Here, here, here, here.

Whoa. Whoa.

Steady, Bes – Steady, Bessie.

DINAH: Grab the reins, George,
with the left hand.

-Put salt on his tail.
-TRACY: Shut up!

(grunting)
Steady, Bessie.

There. Whoa, whoa, Bessie.
Whoa. Whoa.

What's the matter, Bessie?
You – You act worried.

Maybe it's because his name is Jack.

(chuckles, clears throat)

Hi-ho, Silver.

MAN: Heard that really does the trick.

-Hello, Joe.
-Hiya, Mike.

I'm not gonna do it, Liz.

I'm gonna tell Sidney Kidd
very plainly and simply

I'm a writer,
I'm not a society snooper.

-I'm gonna tell him just that.
-Just that.

Let Kidd fire me.

I'll start writing short stories again.
That's what I should be doing anyway.

-I'm gonna tell him just that.
-Just that.

-(knocking)
-Come in.

I don't think you're being fair to me,
Mr. Kidd.

-No?
-No.

You're treating me
like you treat all your other writers.

You really hate me, don't you, Connor?

No. I don't like you very much though.

You hate me, I trust, Miss Imbrie?

No, I – I can't afford to hate anybody.
I'm only a photographer.

(intercom buzzes)

-Ask him to wait.
-Now –

Your assignment will be Spy's
most sensational achievement.

Tracy Lord.

Big game hunting in Africa,
fox hunting in Pennsylvania.

Married on impulse
and divorced in a rage.

And always unapproachable
by the press.

"The Unapproachable Miss Lord."

"The Philadelphia Story."

Closed were the portals
of snobbish fox hunting – No.

No hunter of foxes is Spy magazine.

Anyway, presented
for the first time, quote –

"A Wedding Day
Inside Mainline Society."

Or what the kitchen maid saw
through the keyhole. Unquote.

Go ahead, Connor. Writing's your job.
I'm only the publisher.

All right, publisher, take this.

Quote. No hunter of buckshot in the rear
is cagey, crafty Connor. Unquote.

Close paragraph.

Close job. Close bank account.

But look, Mr. Kidd, how could we possibly get
inside the Lord estate, let alone the house?

Now, we're not gonna do it, Liz,
doggone it.

It's degrading. It's undignified.

Well, so is an empty stomach.

How do we get in?

Ask the gentleman to come in.

I understand
we understand each other.

Quite.

This gentleman has been employed
in our Buenos Aires office.

Fortunately, he came up yesterday
on the Clipper,

and I believe he can help us
with our problem.

How?

Tracy Lord's brother Junius
is in the American embassy down there

and he's an old friend of this gentleman's.

He'll introduce you to the Lords
as intimate friends of Junius.

Dear old Junius.

Now, this Tracy Lord.
She know you?

You might say Miss Lord and I
grew up together.

You might also say
you were her first husband.

Yes, you might.

Holy mackerel, what goes on here?

I remember your honeymoon very well.
You and she on a little sailboat.

The True Love, wasn't it?

That's right. How did you know?

I was the only photographer
whose camera you didn't smash.

You were terribly nice about it.

You threw it in the ocean.

Oh, one of those, huh?

Yes, I had the strange idea
our honeymoon was our own business.

Incidentally, he paid for all the cameras.

I got a nice little letter of apology too.

-Always the gentleman, huh?
-Except on occasion.

Now, what are the plans?

The wedding is Saturday.
Today is Thursday.

They should spend tomorrow night
as guests of the Lords.

Now listen.
There's something screwy here.

Now, if you've resigned,
why are you doing all this unless you –

Oh.

Oh, you want to get even
with your ex-bride, huh?

I'll have a car pick them up at noon tomorrow
in North Philadelphia.

Here, Mike.
There's a little spit in your eye. It shows.

Maybe they'd rather we'd go around
to the servant's entrance, huh?

Maybe this is the servant's entrance.

(shutter clicks)

Good morning, Edward.

Why, Mr. Haven, sir.

Is, uh, Mrs. Haven –
I mean, Miss Tracy or her mother in?

Well, they may be down
at the swimming pool, sir.

Shall I announce you?

No, no. I'll go around myself
and surprise them.

It will indeed be a surprise, sir.

Oh, Edward,
these are friends of Mr. Junius's.

You might have them
wait in the south parlor.

Certainly, Mr. Haven.

Excuse me, sir.

The south parlor?

(Southern accent)
Miss Imbrie, the south parlor.

The queen will have bread and honey
at the usual time.

(shutter clicks)

-Seems a little cold for the south parlor.
-(shutter clicks)

I'd rather expected to find
pickaninnies and banjos.

♪♪ (piano: classical)

What's this room?
I forgot my compass.

Well, this would be
south-southwest parlor-by-living-room.

Knickknacks, gimcracks,
signed photographs.

Wouldn't you know you'd have to be as rich
as the Lords to live in a dump like this?

-MIKE: I wouldn't live in it if they paid me.
-They won't.

Looks like they're running
a hock shop on the side.

(stammers)

(mutters) Just looking around.

(shutter clicks)

I'll want your fingerprints for this.

Say, wh-what's this –
what's this guy Haven up to?

C.K. Dexter Haven.

Yeah. What kind of a name is that anyway?
C.K. Dexter Haven.

Well, Macaulay Connor
is no homespun tag, my pet.

Yeah? Well, you just try
calling me Macaulay.

I knew a plain Joe Smith once.

He was only a clerk in a hardware store,
but he was an absolute rat.

-Huh?
-Huh!

Mmm.

C.K. Dexter Haven.

He plays polo.

He designs sailboats – class boats.
(affected accent) Very upper class.

Well, don't despair.

He's out, and Kittredge,
man of the people, is in.

And quite a comer too, I understand.
Political timber.

Poor guy. I wonder how he fell for it.

Uh-oh. Liz! What'd I tell you?

Look. How do you like this?

"Living room. Sitting room.
Terrace. Pool. Stables."

That's probably so they can talk to the horses
without having them in the house.

Don't, Mike.

(phone buzzes)

-Yes?
-Uh, this is the bridal suite.

Would you send up a couple of
caviar sandwiches and a bottle of beer?

What? Who is this?

This is the voice of doom calling.

Your days are numbered,
to the seventh son of the seventh son.

-(line clicks)
-Hello. Hello?

-(line clicks)
-Hello. Hello?

What's the matter?

One of the servants has been
at the sherry again. I'd better go see.

♪♪ (whistling)

DINAH: Dexter! Dexter!
You've come back!

DEXTER:
Ah, Dinah! My dream girl.

What in the name of...

Oh, no, it can't be.
He went to South America for two years.

Edward said they were
at the swimming pool.

Ah. They seem to be here.

DEXTER: Hmm.

Dexter, don't you know
that tomorrow is the wedding?

Oh, that's right, so it is.
(chuckles)

You can go right back
where you came from.

Can't, Red.
Dinah says it's too awful here without me.

Hello, you sweet thing.

Red, you look in the pink.

(chuckles)

Now look, you don't think
I'd miss your wedding, do you?

Dexter, you – you wouldn't.

I'm not so sure he wouldn't.

No, Mother Lord, I wouldn't.
I assure you I wouldn't.

When did you arrive?
Tell us all about Junius.

-Stay to lunch.
-Sure. Don't bother to open your house.

Stay here. We're having
no houseguests over the wedding.

-No?
-No.

-How about the groom?
-He's staying at the gatehouse.

Oh, that's good.

-Junius is fine.
-Oh, he should be here.

He's heartbroken, dear. I suggested
representing him as best man, but –

I'm afraid that George might prefer
to have his best man sober.

-Oh!
-I wish you'd represent George.

That's my loyal little girl.

Oh, you'll like the people
Junius did send, I'm sure.

You haven't switched from liquor to dope,
by any chance, have you, Dexter?

-Oh, you see?
-The people Junius did send, did you say?

Yes. You don't happen to know
a Macaulay Connor or Elizabeth Imbrie, do you?

-We can finish these later, Mother.
-I'd better come along, introduce you.

Call me for –

Introduce me to whom?

To Miss Imbrie and Mr. Connor. Then you
can tell them which rooms they're to have.

And Mr. Connor wants to know whether to wear
a black or white tie to the party this evening.

-Rooms?
-Uh –

Well, I'd better start from the beginning.
Sit down, dear.

You see, they're great friends of Junius's.

They expect to stay here over the wedding?
I think that's very queer indeed.

I think it's queerer than that.
I think it's paranoiac.

It was Junius's idea. They've been very kind
to him, and as they were in Philadelphia –

You're lying, Dexter.
I can always tell.

-Can you, Red?
-But, dear, if they're Junius's friends –

You went to work
after the divorce, didn't you?

Well, yes, except for a brief interlude
in a couple of alcoholic sanitariums.

-But you took a job in South America. Who for?
-A magazine.

And it wasn't, by any chance,
Spy magazine?

You are a mass of intuition.

And I don't suppose that Junius's friends
are photographers, by any chance?

I thought you were low,
but I never thought you'd sink to –

-What are you going to do?
-After I've telephoned Junius, plenty.

Wait, Red, wait.
You don't have to telephone Junius.

I'll confess.

(receiver rests on cradle)

No, you're slipping, Red.

I used to be afraid of that look.

The withering glance of the goddess.

I didn't think that alcohol would –
Oh, shut up.

Dinah, stay here.

Oh, please, Mother.
Maybe he's going to sock her again.

Don't say "sock," darling.
"Strike" is quite an ugly-enough word.

Who the heck do they think they are,
barging in on peaceful people?

Shush. Shush.
They'll think you don't want them.

-I want them out. And you too.
-Yes, yes, Your Majesty.

But first, could I interest you
in some small blackmail?

-No.
-Well, it's an article.

Complete with snapshots,
details and insinuations.

And it's ready for publication in Spy.

And it's about your father
and that dancer in New York.

-About Father and Tina Mara?
-Now, quiet. Dinah.

But they can't.

Well, they ca – Even if it's true!

-Where'd you get these?
-From Sidney Kidd, the editor and publisher.

-He's got to be stopped.
-Well, he is, temporarily.

That is, if you'll allow those two
to turn in a story on your wedding.

And when Kidd says a story,
he means a story.

-I'm going to be sick.
-Yes, dear.

An intimate day with a society bride.

I am sick.

Well, it's tough,
but that's the way it seems to be.

So I'm to be examined, undressed
and generally humiliated

at 15 cents a copy.

And you, you –

-You're loving it.
-Am I, Red?

Well, Mother, we're hooked.

-Are they really reporters?
-Not even friends of Junius's?

They aren't anybody's friends.
But we're to pretend they are.

-But why?
-Don't ask me.

There's a good reason,
and it's my wedding, so please.

I'll bet it's on account of Father
and that dancer in New York.

-Dinah, what do you know?
-Oh, I listen around.

Oh, dear, is there no such thing
as privacy anymore?

Only in bed, Mother,
and not always there.

Watching every little mannerism,

jotting down notes on how we sit
and stand and talk and eat and move.

Will they do that?

And all in that horrible,
snide, corkscrew English.

Well, if we have to submit to it
to save Father's face –

Which, incidentally, doesn't deserve it –

I'm for giving them a picture of home life
that'll stand their hair on end.

No!

Tracy, we must just be ourselves.

Very much ourselves.

But you want us to create
a good impression, don't you?

They don't know that we know
what they're really here for, I hope.

Oh, no, dear, that was understood.
The girl's quite nice.

He writes short stories.
Very down to earth.

-They'll love us.
-Oh, dear, you both better dress.

And please, both of you, promise to behave
like ladies in front of these creatures.

We'll do our best, Mrs. Lord.
I don't know how good that is.

Dexter, how perfectly dreadful.

And what'll they say about Seth not being here
for his own daughter's wedding?

I know, darling.

Come on.

You better go and tell them how terribly,
terribly happy we are to have them.

That's the old Quaker spirit, Mother Lord.

Now, keep swinging.

Oh. I thought it was that butler.

The family will be down
to welcome you in a moment.

-What with?
-With open arms.

They're terribly, terribly happy
to have any friends of Junius's here.

-They don't know about us, do they?
-No. Why should they?

-Look, Haven.
-What?

Uh, our research department
didn't give us much data.

This fiancé of this girl –
George Kittredge, age 32.

-You know him very well?
-Well enough.

He's general manager
of Quaker State Coal.

Controlling interest in the company
owned by Seth Lord.

-That's the girl's father, huh?
-Mm-hmm.

-What a coincidence.
-How'd he meet her?

Heaven brought them together,
I imagine.

Yeah. "Seth Lord.

See Banker's Annual,
Directory of Directors."

-Is there a library in town?
-Yes.

I suppose you wouldn't
know where that is.

Well, roughly.
My grandfather built it.

Now, about this girl –

Tracy Samantha Lord.

What about her?

Well, what's her leading characteristic?

She has a horror of men
who wear their hats in the house.

Leading characteristics
to be filled in later.

I can fill them in right now.

The young, rich,
rapacious American female.

No other country where she exists.

And would I change places
with Tracy Samantha Lord

for all her wealth and beauty?

Oh, boy, just ask me.

Well, tell four footmen to call me
in time for lunch, will you?

(footsteps)

Oh! How do you do?

Friends of my brother Junius,
are you not?

-(stammering) Well, we –
-I am Dinah Lord.

My real name is Diana,
but my sister changed it.

I'm Elizabeth Imbrie.
This is Macaulay Connor.

Enchantée de vous voir.

Enchantée de faire votre connaisance.

I spoke French before I spoke English.

My early childhood was spent in Paris,
where my father worked in a bank.

-The House of Morgan.
-Really?

C'est vrai absolument.

Can you play the piano?
I can. And sing at the same time.

Listen.

♪ Lydia, oh, Lydia ♪

♪ Say, have you met Lydia? ♪

♪ Oh, Lydia the tattooed lady ♪

♪ She has eyes that folks adore so ♪

♪ And a torso even more so ♪

-♪♪ (Dinah continues singing)
-What is this?

Idiot, probably.

♪ The queen of tattoos ♪

♪ On her back is the battle of Waterloo ♪

♪ Beside it the wreck of the Hesperus too ♪

♪ And proudly above
Waves the red, white ♪

♪ And blue ♪

♪ You can learn a lot from Lydia ♪

Ah, petite sœur!
Tu es un véritable petit Chopin!

-Tu trouves?
-Mais certainement.

Mais qu'est-ce qu'il y a?
Voyons, tu es toute pâle.

Montre-moi ta langue. J'espère bien
que ce n'est pas le smallpox.

-Le smallpox ?
-Mais oui.

Va dire à maman de se dépêcher.

(Tracy chuckles)

Oh. (chuckles)

How do you do?

I'm Tracy Lord.
It's so nice having you here.

-How did you leave Junius?
-Oh, we left Junius fine.

-Say, that little sister of yours –
-Isn't she a dear? So talented.

Junius is such a lamb, isn't he?

Yes, isn't he.

It's a pity none of the male members of the
family are going to be here to welcome you.

-Well, where's your father?
-(chuckles) Darling Papa.

-I do hope you'll stay for my wedding.
-We'd like to very much.

-Yeah, that was our idea.
-I'm so glad that it occurred to you.

The house is in rather a mess,
of course.

We'll all have to huddle here
and overflow onto the porch.

(chuckles)

I hope your rooms are comfortable.

Is your father sick?

-What a cunning little camera.
-I'm afraid I'm an awful nuisance with it.

But you couldn't be.
I hope you'll take loads.

Dear Papa and Mama
aren't allowing any reporters in.

That is, except for little Mr. Grace
who does the social news.

Can you imagine a grown-up man
having to sink so low?

-Ah, it does seem kind of bad.
-(Tracy chuckles)

You're a kind of, um, a writer,
aren't you, Mr. Connor?

-Sort of.
-Mm-hmm.

-A book?
-Yes.

Under what name do you publish?

My own.

Macaulay Connor.

(chuckles)
What's the Macaulay for?

Well, my father taught English history.

I'm – I'm Mike to my friends.

Of whom you have many, I'm sure.

English history.
It's always fascinated me.

Cromwell, Robin Hood, Jack the Ripper.

Where did he teach?

I mean, your father.

Oh, a little high school
in South Bend, Indiana.

South Bend.
It sounds like dancing, doesn't it?

You must have had
a most happy childhood there.

-Yeah, it was terrific.
-I'm so glad.

-No, I didn't mean it that way.
-I'm so sorry. Why?

Uh, well, lack of wherewithal, I guess.

But that doesn't always
cause unhappiness, does it?

Not if you're the right kind of man.

George Kittredge, my fiancé,
never had anything either, and he –

Are either of you married?

-No, no.
-Uh, no.

You mean you were,
but now you're divorced?

-Well, the fact is –
-Well, come now, Miss Imbrie.

-Surely you're not ashamed of it.
-Of course I'm not ashamed of it.

-What?
-Well, it – it was years ago.

I was only a kid in Duluth.

Well, good heavens, Liz,
you never told me anything –

-You never asked me!
-Well, I know, but you...

Joe Smith. Hardware.

You're the darndest girl, Liz.

I think I'm sweet.

Duluth. That must be a lovely spot.
It's west of here, isn't it?

Sort of, but occasionally
we get the breezes.

And this is your first visit
in Philadelphia?

It's a quaint old place, don't you think?
Filled with relics.

And how old are you, Mr. Connor?

-Thirty.
-One book isn't much for a man of 30.

I don't mean to criticize. You probably
have other interests outside your work.

None.

Oh, I mean, unless –

How sweet.

Are you... going together?

-Well, that is an odd question, I must say.
-I beg your pardon? After all –

Well, I don't see why.
I think it's very interesting.

Miss Imbrie, don't you agree

that if a man says he loves a girl
he ought to marry her?

-Can she be human?
-Please, Mr. Connor.

-I asked Miss Imbrie a question.
-Oh, I –

-Well, that depends. I –
-I'll see what's keeping Mama.

Look, who's doing the interviewing here?

-You don't suppose she caught on somehow?
-No, no. She was born that way.

Now, don't let her throw you.

-Do you want to take over?
-I want to go home.

MARGARET: Ah, here you are.

How do you do?
We're so happy to have you.

Forgive me for not coming in sooner,
but things are in such a state.

My little girl.

She's going to leave me.

Aren't you pretty, my dear?
But then Junius's friends always are.

Look at the way she wears her hair, Tracy.

-Isn't it pretty?
-(chuckles) Mighty fine.

Shall we have sherry on the porch?

Thank you.

-This is my youngest daughter, Diana.
-Yeah, I think we've met.

I do wish my husband could be here
to greet you, but we expect him presently.

He's been detained in New York on business
for that lovely dancer, Tina Mara.

-Do you know her work?
-Well, not professionally.

So talented.
And such a lovely person.

But like so many artists, no business head.
None whatever.

I have some lovely presents.
Don't you think so, Mr. Connor?

Hello, everybody.

-I hope I'm not late.
-You're never late, George.

We have such a lovely surprise.

Junius has sent us these two dear people
as a wedding present.

Mr. Kittredge, this is Miss, uh –
I'm so sorry.

-Imbrie.
-Any friend of Junius's is a friend of mine.

And, uh... Mr. Morrow?

-I didn't get the name.
-Uh, Connor.

-Macaulay Connor.
-He's a writer.

-Oh, don't apologize, Mrs. Lord.
-Oh. No apology necessary.

-I have great respect for writers.
-Well, thank you. Any kind word is a –

-How are you, dear?
-Much better now that you're here.

-Oh, I guess this must be love, huh?
-Your guess is correct, Mr. Connor.

I'm just his faithful old dog, Tray.

-Give me your paw.
-You've got it.

-(shutter clicks)
-How sweet.

Say, I'd like to see one of those,
Miss Imbrie.

You will.

Shall we have some sherry?

I suppose Junius has told you
all about our happy little family.

-Papa!
-What?

Dear Papa!

You angel,
to get here in time for lunch!

-Isn't he, Mama?
-Yes, indeed he is, but –

Father, these are our friends,
Miss Imbrie and Mr. Connor.

-How are you, Mr. Lord?
-Oh, uh, just fine, thank you.

(chuckles)
How are you?

-How do you do?
-Oh, how do you do?

Hi, Pops!

Oh, dear Dinah.

-Father, here's George.
-How are you, Kittredge?

Margaret, my sweet.

-Another place for luncheon, Edward.
-Very good, madam.

Well... (chuckles)

Here I am, in the bosom of my –

Hello, friends and enemies.

Young man...

remove yourself.

-How are you, sir?
-I don't know. Get along. Get along.

Darling, I've changed my mind.
I will stay for lunch.

-Another place, Edward.
-Yes, madam.

-Hello, Kittredge.
-How are you, Haven?

Just Damon and Pythias.

-No, Grant and Lee.
-(shutter clicks)

You don't look as well
as when I last saw you, Kittredge.

Oh, you poor fellow.
I know just how you feel.

-How's it coming?
-Oh, beautifully, Dexter.

We're so indebted to you
for these lovely people.

It's almost impossible
to repay that debt.

But you'll manage, eh, Red?

-They grew up together, you know.
-How nice.

You don't look old enough to get married.
Not even the first time. But you never did.

She needs trouble to mature her, Kittredge.
Give her lots of it.

I'm afraid she can't
count on me for that.

No? Well, that's too bad.

Sometimes, for your own sake, Red,
I think you should have stuck to me longer.

I thought it was for life,
but the nice judge gave me a full pardon.

Ah, that's the old redhead.

No bitterness, no recrimination.
Just a good, swift left to the jaw.

-(chuckles)
-(chuckles)

(shutter clicks)

They grew up together.

EDWARD:
Luncheon is served, madam.

Oh, thank you, Edward.
Come, Seth. We have so much to talk about.

I don't suppose a man ever had
a better or finer family. (chuckles)

You know, I often wake up in the night
and say to myself, Seth, you lucky dog.

What have you done
to deserve it all?

MARGARET:
And what have you?

Oh, thank you.

-Oh!
-Oh!

How stupid!

Oh, dear, how awful!

Yeah, I had a feeling that would happen.

Your camera! I'm –

Well, I'm so, so sorry.

I'm sure you are.

What is it?

Your father.

Uncle Willie!

Uncle Willie. How nice.

-I beg your pardon.
-Please go on into lunch, everyone.

I want a word with Uncle Willie.

-Another place, Edward.
-Yes, madam.

I'm afraid I don't understand.

You never have.
But you came anyway, didn't you?

Oh. Still justice with her shining sword,
eh, Daughter?

-Who's on the spot?
-We are, thanks to you...

Uncle Willie.

-How long will you be researching?
-Not long, if I can find the right books.

It's family history and stuff like that.

There's a cousin Joanna
that's definitely crazy.

-Who told you?
-Dinah.

Well, Dinah should know.

Come across the street when you've finished.
Miss Hobson's establishment.

Hobson. Okay.

What does thee wish?

I'm looking for some local bi –

What did you say?

What does thee wish?

Um, local biography or history.

If thee wilt consult
with my colleague in there.

Mm-hmm.

Dost thou have a washroom?

Thank thee.

Look, I know this is a public library,
but I wi –

-Hello.
-Hello.

Couldn't you afford to buy my book?

The bookstore didn't have one.

Well, are you sure
you're doing the right thing?

You know what happens to girls like you
when they read books like mine.

They begin to think. That's bad.

These stories are beautiful.

Why, Connor, they're almost poetry.

Well, don't kid yourself. They are.

I can't make you out at all now.

Really?

-I thought I was easy.
-So did I.

But you're not.

You...

You talk so big and tough,
and then you write like this.

Which is which?

Both, I guess.

No.

No, I –

I believe you put the toughness on
to save your skin.

Oh, you think so?

I know a little about that.

-Do you?
-Quite a lot.

Shh. Shh!

Look, let's get out of here.

It, uh – This book, it was just such
a complete surprise to me.

I – Look, let's walk, shall we?
It'll be much more fun.

Take this, would you? Tell Mr. Kittredge
we'll meet him at the pool.

Yes, Miss Tracy.

The story called "With the Rich and Mighty,"
I think I like it best.

I got it from a Spanish peasant's proverb.

"With the rich and mighty,
always a little patience."

I like that.

What's the matter?
A little too rough?

A little.

But I'm used to it.

Tell me something, will you?

When you can do a thing like that book,
how can you possibly do anything else?

Well, you may not believe this,

but there are people in this world
that must earn their living.

Of course.
But people buy books, don't they?

Well, not as long
as there's a library around.

You know, that book of mine
represents two solid years' work,

and it's netted Connor
something under $600.

-But that shouldn't be.
-Well, unhappily, it is.

Say, this is beautiful country around here.
What is it all, anyway?

Part of our place.

What about your Miss Imbrie?

Well, Miss Imbrie
is in somewhat the same fix.

She's a born painter
and might be a very important one.

But Miss Imbrie must eat,
and she also prefers a roof over her head

to being constantly
out in the rain and snow.

Food and a roof.

Hey, you've really got something here.

-Where?
-Well, all this.

Oh. Oh. Come on.
The dressing rooms are over here.

I think you'll find everything you need.

Use any old one, but I think
you'll find most of the junk in there.

-Yell if you need anything.
-Okay.

-Hey, Connor.
-Yeah?

-I have an idea.
-What?

I have the most wonderful
little house in Unionville.

It's up on a hill with a view
that would knock you silly.

I'm never there except in the hunting season,
and not much then.

And I'd be so happy to know
that it was of some real use to someone.

-(door closes)
-Can you hear me?

Yeah.

There's a brook and a small lake –

no size, really –

and a patch of woods,

and in any kind of weather
it's the most wonderful –

Well, anyhow, I'm so delighted
that I can offer it to you.

Well, it's terribly nice of you, but, uh –

♪♪ (whistling)

Heck, that's Dexter.

Look, if he comes here,
stand by, will you?

-Um, I don't want to be alone with him.
-Certainly, if you like.

Isn't it lucky that I happened
to think about that house?

And don't think I'd come trooping in
every minute, because I wouldn't.

I'd never come,
except when expressly asked to.

Well, it isn't that.

Well, what is it?

Well, you see, the idea of artists
depending upon a patron Lady Bountiful

has more or less gone out.

Oh.

I see.

That wasn't especially kind of you,
Mr. Connor.

I'm sorry to have seemed patronizing.

-Oh, well, look, I didn't mean –
-Please don't bother, really.

-Hello.
-Hello.

Fancy seeing you here.

Orange juice? Certainly.

Don't tell me you've forsaken
your beloved whiskey and whiskeys?

No, no, no, no. I've just
changed their color, that's all.

I go in for the pale pastel shades now.
They're more becoming to me.

How about you, Mr. Connor?
You drink, don't you? Alcohol, I mean.

-Oh, a little.
-A li – A little?

And you a writer?
Tsk, tsk, tsk.

I thought all writers drank to excess
and beat their wives.

You know, at one time I think
I secretly wanted to be a writer.

Dexter, would you mind
doing something for me?

-Anything. What?
-Get the heck out of here.

My dear Red, I couldn't do that.

That wouldn't be fair to you.
You need me too much.

Would you mind tell me just what it is
you're hanging around for?

-Oh, no, no, no. Please don't go, Mr. Connor.
-Oh, no, please don't go, Mr, Connor.

As a writer, this ought to be
right up your street.

Don't miss a word.

I never saw you looking better, Red.
You're getting that fine, tawny look.

Oh, we're going to talk
about me, are we? Goody.

It's astonishing what money can do for people.
Don't you agree, Mr. Connor?

Not too much, you know.
Just more than enough.

Now, take Tracy, for example.

There's never a blow
that hasn't been softened for her.

Never a blow that won't be softened.

It even changed her shape.
She was a dumpy little thing at one time.

Only as it happens,
I'm not interested in myself for the moment.

Not interested in yourself?
You're fascinated, Red.

You're far and away
your favorite person in the world.

-Dexter, in case you don't know it –
-She's a girl who's generous to a fault.

TRACY:
To a fault, Mr. Connor.

Except to other people's faults.

For instance, she never had any understanding
of my deep and gorgeous thirst.

-That was your problem.
-Granted.

But you took on that problem with me
when you took me, Red.

You were no helpmate there.
You were a scold.

It was disgusting.
It made you so unattractive.

Mmm, a weakness, sure.

And strength is her religion,
Mr. Connor.

She finds human imperfection unforgivable.

And when I gradually discovered
that my relationship to her

was supposed to be not that of a loving
husband and a good companion, but –

-Oh, never mind.
-Say it.

But that of a kind of high priest
to a virgin goddess,

then my drinks grew deeper
and more frequent, that's all.

I never considered you as that,
nor myself.

You did without knowing it.
(scoffs)

And the night
that you got drunk on champagne

and climbed out on the roof
and stood there naked,

with your arms out to the moon,
wailing like a banshee.

(giggles)

I told you I've never had the slightest
recollection of doing any such thing.

I know. You drew a blank.
You wanted to.

Mr. Connor, what would you – Oh.

-A nice story for Spy, incidentally.
-Yeah.

Too bad we can't supply photographs
of you on the roof.

Honestly, the fuss you made
over that silly, childish epi –

It was enormously important
and most revealing.

The moon is also a goddess,
chaste and virginal.

Stop using those foul words.

Dexter, what are you
trying to make me out as?

-Tracy, what do you fancy yourself as?
-I don't know that I fancy myself as any –

When I read you were gonna marry Kittredge,
I couldn't believe it. That's why I'm here.

-How in the world can you even think of it?
-Because he's everything you're not.

He's been poor, he's had to work
and he's had to fight for everything.

And I love him
as I never even began to love you.

Maybe so, but I doubt it.
I think it's just a swing from me.

But it's too violent a swing.

Kittredge is no great tower of strength,
you know, Tracy. He's just a tower.

-You hardly know him.
-Well, to hardly know him is to know him well.

And perhaps it offends my vanity to have
anyone who was even remotely my wife

remarry so obviously beneath her.

Be –

How dare you, any of you,
in this day and age, use such an idiotic –

I'm talking about the difference
in mind and spirit.

You could marry Mac, the night watchman,
I'd cheer for you.

-Kittredge is not for you.
-You bet he's for me.

He's a great man and a good man.

-Already he's of national importance.
-(groans)

You sound like Spy magazine talking.

But whatever he is, Toots,
you'll have to stick.

He'll give you no out as I did.

I won't require one.

I suppose you'd still be attractive
to any man of spirit though.

There's something engaging about it,
this goddess business,

something more challenging to the male
than the, uh, more obvious charms.

-Really?
-Really.

We're very vain, you know.

"This citadel can and shall be taken,
and I'm the boy to do it."

You seem quite contemptuous of me

all of a sudden.

No, Red, not of you.

Never of you.

Red, you could be the finest woman
on this earth.

I'm contemptuous of something inside of you
you either can't help or make no attempt to.

Your so-called strength,

your prejudice against weakness,
your blank intolerance.

-Is that all?
-That's the gist of it.

Because you'll never be a first-class
human being or a first-class woman

until you've learned to have
some regard for human frailty.

It's a pity your own foot
can't slip a little sometime.

But your sense of inner divinity
wouldn't allow that.

This goddess must and shall remain intact.

(scoffs)

There are more of you
than people realize.

A special class of the American female –
the married maidens.

So help me, Dexter,
if you say another word, I'll –

I'm through, Red.
For the moment I've had my say.

Well, I – I suppose I should
object to this twosome.

That would be most objectionable.

Well, any time either of you
want my advice –

-We'll give you a ring, Haven.
-Thanks. Do that, will you?

So long, Red.

I left you a little wedding present.
Sorry I hadn't any ribbon to tie it up with.

Aren't you swimming?

We haven't time.
Uncle Willie wants us at 8:00.

Look what your friend
considers a wedding present.

-Why, it's a model of the True Love.
-The what?

A boat he designed and built,
practically.

We sailed her down the coast of Maine
and back the summer we were married.

My, she was yare.

Yare? What's that mean?

It means, uh...

Oh, what does it mean?

Easy to handle,
quick to the helm, fast, bright.

Everything a boat should be.

Until she develops dry rot.

Oh, George, to get away,

somehow to be useful in the world.

Useful? You, Tracy?

Why, I'm going to build you an ivory tower
with my own two hands.

Like fun you are.

Do you mean
you've been in one too long?

Well... I mean that

and a lot of things.

I – (sighs)

You know, we're gonna
represent something, Tracy,

you and I and our home.

Something straight and sound and fine.

Then perhaps your friend, Mr. Haven,
will be somewhat less condescending.

George.

You –

You don't really mind him, do you?

I mean, the fact of him?

The fact of him? What do you mean?

Well, I mean –

Well, you know, that –
that he ever was my lord and master,

that we ever were –

I don't believe he ever was, Tracy.
Not really.

I don't believe that anyone
ever was or ever will be.

That's the wonderful thing
about you, Tracy.

What? How?

Well, you're – you're like
some marvelous, distant,

well, queen, I guess.

You're so cool and fine
and always so much your own.

There's a kind of beautiful purity
about you, Tracy, like – like a statue.

-George –
-Oh, it's grand, Tracy.

It's what everybody feels about you.

It's what I first worshipped you for,
from afar.

-George, listen –
-First, now and always.

Only from a little nearer now, eh, darling?

But...

I don't want to be worshipped.
I want to be loved.

Well, you're that too, Tracy.
Oh, you're that, all right.

I mean, really loved.

But that goes without saying, Tracy.

No.

No, now it's you
who doesn't see what I mean.

I...

Well, I'd better get dressed, dear.
I hate to be late.

George?

-Yes?
-Um...

(chuckles) Oh, nothing.

Run along.
I'll be dressed when you get back.

Tracy.

You're Uncle Willie's guest of honor.
You mustn't be late.

That fiancé of yours
just roared out of here on two wheels.

Does he, by any chance,
ever walk anywhere?

When he likes, I expect.

I have a feeling he'll take that ring tomorrow
and go right through center with it.

Seth, you idiot. (laughs)

(chuckles) Very amusing, I'm sure.

Almost as amusing as the sight of you
with your arm around Mother.

I find very unamusing

the stupid, undignified spectacle
we're making of ourselves

for the benefit of those
two newspaper people.

Whose fault is it?

Well, that's not the point.

They can publish anything
they like about me,

but I insist that we inform Connor
and the camera lady

that we're all aware
of their purpose here.

All right. I'll tell them myself.

It'd look better coming from me,
don't you think,

as at least
the titular head of the family?

Of course, inasmuch as you
let us in for it in the first place.

Do keep that note out of your voice, Tracy.
It's very unattractive.

Oh?

How does your dancer friend talk?
Or does she purr?

-Tracy!
-It's quite all right, Margaret.

Sweet and low, I suppose.

Dulcet. Very ladylike.

You've got a heck of a nerve to come back here
in your best head-of-the-family manner

and make stands and strike attitudes
and criticize my fiancé

and give orders
and mess things up generally.

-Stop it instantly!
-I can't help it. It's sickening.

-As if he'd done nothing at all.
-Which happens to be the truth.

Anyway, it's not your affair, Tracy.
If it concerns anyone –

Well, actually, I don't know
whom it concerns except your father.

That's very wise of you, Margaret.

What most wives fail to realize

is that their husbands' philandering
has nothing whatever to do with them.

Oh? Then what has it to do with?

A reluctance to grow old, I think.

I suppose the best mainstay
a man can have as he gets along in years

is a daughter.

The right kind of daughter.

How sweet.

Oh, no, no. I'm talking seriously about
something I've thought over thoroughly.

I've had to.

I think a devoted young girl gives a man
the illusion that youth is still his.

-Very important, I suppose.
-Oh, very, very.

Because without her he might be inclined
to go out in search of his youth.

That's just as important to him
as it is to any woman.

But with a girl of his own,
full of warmth for him,

full of foolish, unquestioning,
uncritical affection –

-None of which I've got.
-None.

You have a good mind, a pretty face,

a disciplined body
that does what you tell it.

You have everything it takes to make
a lovely woman except the one essential –

an understanding heart.

And without that,
you might just as well be made of bronze.

That's an... awful thing to say to anyone.

Yes, it is indeed.

So I'm to blame for Tina Mara, am I?

-To a certain extent, I expect you are.
-You coward.

No.

But better that than a prig
or a perennial spinster,

however many marriages.

-Seth, that's too much.
-I'm afraid it's not enough, Margaret.

-I'm afraid nothing is.
-What –

-What did you say I was?
-Do you want me to repeat it?

A prig and a...

You mean, you think I think
I'm some kind of a goddess or something?

If your ego wants it that way, yes.

Also, you've been talking
like a jealous woman.

What's the matter with everyone
all at once, anyhow?

(yawns)

I've been asleep.
What time is it?

-After 7:00.
-What?

Look here. Call my house, will you?
Tell them I'm on my way.

You'd better come along too.
After all, you're the host tonight, Uncle Willie.

That's all over.
You're yourself again. So am I.

-Oh. Have you told them?
-I shall at the first opportunity.

My first party, and about time.
Can I have a cocktail?

-Certainly not.
-It's a dirty gyp.

I think that dress hikes up
a little behind.

No, it's me that does.

-You look adorable, Dinah.
-Oh, thanks, Tracy. Thanks ever so much.

Tracy, you must dress.

-Let's all have a last drink.
-Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot. You never drink.

-Prigs don't.
-What's that?

Nor spinsters.

-Again, please?
-Nor goddesses of any variety.

Not completely. Just a borderline case.

Mr. and Mrs. Lord, Miss Imbrie and I
have something on our minds.

Splendid. Just the place for it. What?

-Well, we'd like to say something.
-I'm all ears... and eyes.

You're a vision of loveliness,
Miss Imbrie.

Will you have a cocktail or champagne?

Oh, champagne. I've never had enough.

You will... tonight.

-I'd like to say that –
-No, I have something to say first.

I am Seth Lord.

No.

-Then that makes you...
-Available.

And you are Miss Imbrie of Spy magazine.

-Well, now you know.
-I was going to tell you.

-Now, as to the reasons –
-Not now, Seth. We really ought to be early.

And who will go with me in my little car?

Dinah and I. Seth, will you take
Miss Imbrie and Mr. O'Connor?

Dinah.

I can tell there's something in the air
because I'm being taken away.

Well, I'll see you all later.

-(yelps)
-Don't do that.

-What's the matter?
-Nothing.

Miss Imbrie?

You know, I – I felt exactly
as though I'd been pinched.

And don't you think you weren't.

You aren't even dressed.

Um, you go ahead.
I'll, uh, follow along with George.

-What's the matter with Tracy?
-(chuckles)

You tell me, will you?

Darned if I know. I'd like to.

Well, Macaulay,
if you ever happen to find out –

I'll tell you. Sure.

And remember, Mike,
"with the rich and mighty" –

"Always a little patience"?

♪♪ (orchestra: waltz)

Do you know what time it is?

It's after 4:00.

In China it's later than that.

In China we'd be married by now.

Or perhaps it's only yesterday.

I'm going home after this dance.

There was a Chinese poet who was drowned
while trying to kiss the moon in the river.

-He was drunk.
-I'd say as much.

But he wrote beautiful poetry.

Macaulay Connor of South Bend
reporting for duty.

I'm sorry, Connor.
We're going home after this dance.

Oh, now you can't do that to me –
not a friend of old Junius.

I mean, not a f – old friend of Junius.

I wish old Junius were here.

Tracy, I'll get your wraps.

He'll wrap me up.

-Hello, you.
-Hello.

-Hey, you look fine.
-I feel fine.

Good. Good.

Oh, wait. Wait.

What was I saying?
Oh. Let's have another drink.

-Or would Kittredge spank?
-That's not what you were saying.

It isn't? All right. Not what I was saying.

Oh. Oh, I know.

Why do you wish your brother was here?

-Does he like Kittredge?
-Everybody likes Kittredge.

Everybody likes Kittredge.

Every – Everybody
except C.K. Dexter Haven, huh?

-Come on, Connor. We'll have some wine.
-We'll have some wine.

Mother, I thought
you'd gone home ages ago.

I know I should have,
but I've been having such a good time.

Everybody should have a good time.

Darling, what's come over you?

Oh, it's just that a lot of things
I always thought were terribly important

I find now are...

And the other way around and –
Oh, what the dickens.

(laughs)

Connor, you're thirsty,
and the night is young.

Here we are, dear.

We're going to have just one –
one more drink before we –

-Not you, I'm afraid, dear.
-Why should you be afraid, George?

You know wine never affects me,
not in the slightest.

Now look here, Tracy.

What she really wants, George,
is another dance with you.

Oh, very well.

Well, look, George,
if it's that much of a chore just to –

-Not for me!
-Oh, no, you don't, Connor.

-You've been too attentive as it is.
-George. George, please.

What will the neighbors think?

-The course of true love.
-Gathers no moss.

-Bunny, where's Brendon?
-He's with Gigs and Fi.

(all chattering, laughing)

Boy! Champagne.

Just the bottle. I'm going on a picnic.

Aw.

-You leaving us, Jock?
-Rather. But I'll be back.

Come on, darling. Champagne.

And again and again and again.

(whistles) Follow that cab.

-What cab, sir?
-No cab. Some joke, huh?

Take me to the C.K. Dexter Haven mansion.

-Mr. Haven?
-Front entrance.

(engine starts)

C.K. Dexter Haven! Oh, C.K. Dexter Haven!

C.K. Dexter Haven!

Now, this is where Cinderella gets off.

Now you hurry back to the ball before you
turn into a pumpkin and six white mice.

Good-bye.

C.K. Dexter Haven. Oh, C.K. Dexter Haven!

-What's up?
-You are.

I only hope it's worth it. Come on in.

I bring you greetings.

Cinderella's slipper.

It's called champagne.
Champagne is a great "leveleler" – leveler.

-It makes you my equal.
-Oh, I wouldn't quite say that.

Well, almost my equal.

C.K. Dexter Haven,
I would like to talk to you.

Well, let's go in the talking room.

-Don't tell me the party's over so soon.
-No. No.

I just felt like talking to you.

Well, that's nice.

Oh.

Oh, I wonder if I might borrow a drink.

Certainly. Coals to Newcastle.

-Here. Sit down.
-Hmm?

(hiccups)

-Excuse me.
-Hmm?

Oh, nothing.

What's this?

-What, that's my book?
-Yes.

C.K. Dexter Haven,
you have unsuspected depth.

Oh, thanks, old chap.

But have you read it? (hiccups)

Well, I – I was trying to stop drinking.
I read anything.

And did you stop dr – drinking?

Yes. Your book didn't do it though.

Are you still in love with her?

Or perhaps you consider that
a very personal question.

-Not at all.
-Liz thinks you are!

Liz thinks you are.

But of course, women like to romantici –
(hiccups) romanticize about things.

-Yes, they do, don't they?
-Yes, they do, don't they?

I don't know. I – I can't understand
how you can have been married to her

and still know so little about her.

-Can't you?
-No, I can't you.

(hiccups)

I have the hiccups.

-I wonder if I might have another drink.
-Certainly.

Thank you.

You know, Tracy's no ordinary woman.

And you said some things to her
this afternoon I resented.

-Well, I apologize, Mr. Connor.
-That's quite all right. Quite all right.

But when a girl is like Tracy,
she's one in a million.

She's – She's sort of like a –
She's sort of like a –

-A goddess?
-No, no, no, no.

You said that word this afternoon. No.

No, she's – she's sort of like a queen.

A radiant, glorious queen.

And you can't treat her like other women.

No, I suppose not.

But then I imagine Kittredge
appreciates all that.

Kittredge!
Kittredge appreciates Kittredge.

Ah, that fake man of the people.
He isn't even smart.

He's a five-cent edition of Sidney Kidd.

Well, I always thought Kidd himself
was the five-cent kid.

And what's that make you worth,
C.K. Dexter Haven, bringing us down here?

But you know why I did that.
To get even with my ex-bride.

You told me so yourself.

Doggone it, C.K. Dexter Haven.

Either I'm gonna sock you
or you're gonna sock me!

Shall we toss a coin?

(grunts)

You know, Kidd's just using you
like he uses everybody else.

(groans)
You don't know Kidd like I know him.

The guy's colossal. He's terrific.

-He's got everybody fooled.
-Yeah.

No mean Machiavelli
is smiling, cynical Sidney Kidd.

The world's his oyster
with an "R" in every month.

Hey, that's not bad. When did I say that?

You didn't. I did. Sorry.

I suppose you never heard about
Kidd's little arrangement in Kansas City?

-No.
-In San Francisco.

Let me tell you about the time
he went to Boston

to be awarded the Sarah Langley medal
for world peace.

The true story on that little jaunt
would ruin him.

-Look, Connor.
-Hmm?

-What would happen to you if I used this stuff?
-Why?

Well, I might want to, very much.

You see, Kidd is holding
a dirty piece on Tracy's father.

This might stop him.

-On Tracy's father?
-That's right.

Oh.

-Oh, so that's how Kidd got you to –
-Mm-hmm.

That's how Liz and I were gotten in.
Blackmail, huh?

We all rode into this thing
on a filthy blackmail.

Well, look, you use it.
Use it with my blessings.

I'm cooked. I'm through anyway.

I'm not gonna hand in a story
on this wedding.

-I'm gonna write one on Kidd.
-No, no, let me do it.

I don't have to tell him
where I got my facts. Okay?

Okay.

All right. Come on.

Now, shoot.

-Peace medal.
-Huh?

-Boston.
-Oh. Oh.

The time: May, 1938.
The place: Boston, in a hotel.

Kidd had just arrived.

And this same Sidney Kidd,
ladies and gentlemen of America,

this protector of American democracy
and homes and firesides,

was at that very moment entertaining
this South Carolina Mata Hari on his yacht.

-(doorbell ringing)
-Don't interrupt me!

This Sidney Kidd, ladies and gentlemen,

who demanded the respect

of all who were connected with him.

We've come for the body
of Macaulay Connor.

So glad you came.
Can you use a typewriter?

No, thanks. I have one at home.

MIKE:
... often sworn to defend with his life.

Who's that?

-Here was Sidney Kidd, ladies and gentlemen.
-Oh.

Sidney Kidd the good. Sidney Kidd the noble.

-Where's Kittredge?
-(Mike continues, faint)

-People's choice?
-Yeah.

His bride just dropped him at the gate house
after a slight explosion.

-What, a fight?
-Fifteen rounds. No decision.

Where's my wandering parakeet?

You look beautiful, Red.

Come on in.

Why?

No particular reason. A drink maybe?

I don't drink.

That's right. I forgot.

I haven't.

Show Liz to a typewriter and stand back.

-Can she do it?
-She can and she will.

And you dictate to her
and then bring her home.

-Aren't you coming, Liz?
-It seems I've got to commit suicide first.

-Going my way, miss?
-Miss Goddess to you.

Okay, Miss Goddess to me.

(engine starts)

♪♪ (radio: instrumental jazz)

You know, champagne's funny stuff.
I'm used to whiskey.

Whiskey's a slap on the back

and champagne's
a heavy mist before my eyes.

(phone ringing)

Do you hear a telephone ringing?

I did a little while ago. Let's see.

-(ringing continues)
-No, not yet. Mmm.

-(ringing continues)
-Now I do, far away.

(ringing continues)

It's my bedroom telephone.

It couldn't be anyone but George.

I was sort of swinish to him.

Perhaps I'd better go and see what –

It isn't ringing anymore.

I tell you what.
Let's have a quick swim to brighten us up.

Dexter and I always swam after parties.

Well, let's dip into this instead, huh?

Hello, you.

Hello.

-You look fine.
-I feel fine.

(chuckling) Did you enjoy the party?

Sure, sure.

The prettiest sight in this fine, pretty world
is the privileged class enjoying its privileges.

You're a snob, Connor.

No doubt, no doubt.

"Awash with champagne
was Will Q. Tracy's pleasure dome

on the nuptial eve of Tracy Samantha –"

Tracy. Whee! Tracy Samantha –

Tracy.

You can't marry that guy.

George? I'm going to.

-Why – Why not?
-Well, I don't know.

I thought I'd be for it at first,
but you just don't seem to match up.

Then the fault's with me.

Well, maybe so, but all the same now,
you can't do it.

-No?
-No.

Come around about noon tomorrow.

I mean today.

Snob.

Say, what do you mean, "snob"?

You're the worst kind there is –
an intellectual snob.

You've made up your mind awfully young,
it seems to me.

Well, 30's about time
to make up your mind.

And I'm nothing of the sort,
not Mr. Connor.

The time to make up your mind
about people... is never.

(chuckles)

Yes, you are, and a complete one.

-You're quite a girl, aren't you?
-You think?

-Yeah, I know.
-Thank you, Professor.

-I don't think I'm exceptional.
-Oh, you are though.

I know any number like me.
You ought to get around more.

Yes.

What, in the upper class?

No, no. No, thank you.

You're just a mass of prejudices,
aren't you?

You're so much thought
and so little feeling, Professor.

-Oh, I am, am I?
-Yes, you am, are you.

Your intolerance infuriates me.

I should think that, of all people,
a writer would need tolerance.

The fact is you'll never –

You can't be a first-rate writer
or a first-rate human being

until you've learned to have
some small regard for human fr –

Aren't the geraniums pretty, Professor?

Is it not a handsome day that begins,
Professor?

-All right. Lay off that "Professor."
-Yes, Professor.

Oh, you've got all the arrogance
of your class, all right, haven't you?

Ho – What have classes to do with it?

What do they matter,
except for the people in them?

George comes from the so-called lower class,
Dexter from the upper.

-Well?
-Well?

Mac, the night watchman,
is a prince among men.

Uncle Willie is a pincher.

Upper and lower, my eye.
I'll take the lower, thanks.

If you can't get a drawing room.

-What do you mean by that?
-My mistake.

-Decidedly. You're insulting.
-I'm sorry.

-Oh, don't apologize.
-Well, who's apologizing?

I never knew such a man.

You wouldn't be likely to, dear,
not from where you sit.

Talk about arrogance.

-Tracy.
-What do you want?

You're wonderful.

(trembling voice) Ha!

There's a magnificence in you, Tracy.

Now I'm getting self-conscious.

It's funny. I –

Mike, let's –

Yeah?

I don't know. Go up, I guess. It's late.

A magnificence that comes out of your eyes
and your voice

and the way you stand there
and the way you walk.

You're lit from within, Tracy.

You've got fires banked down in you.

Hearth fires and holocausts.

I don't seem to you made of bronze?

No, you're made out of flesh and blood.

That's the blank, unholy surprise of it.

Oh, you're the golden girl, Tracy,

full of life and warmth and delight.

Oh, what goes on?
You've got tears in your eyes.

Shut up, shut up.

Oh, Mike, keep talking.
Keep talking. Talk, will you?

No. No, I've –

I've stopped.

Why?

Has your mind taken hold again,
dear Professor?

Well, good thing, don't you –
don't you agree?

No, Professor.

All right, lay off that "Professor" stuff now,
do you hear me?

Yes, Professor.

-That's really all I am to you, is it?
-Of course, Professor.

-Are you sure?
-Why, yes, yes, of cour –

Golly.

-Golly Moses.
-Tracy.

-Mr. Connor. Mr. Connor –
-Let me tell you something, Tracy.

-No, don't. All of a sudden I've got the shakes.
-Can't be anything like love, can it?

No. No, it mustn't be. It can't.

-Would it be inconvenient?
-Terribly.

Anyway, I know it isn't.
Oh, Mike, we're out of our minds.

-Right into our hearts.
-That ought to have music.

It does, doesn't it?
Tracy, you're so lovely.

It's as if my insteps were melting away.

What is it?
Have I got feet of clay or something?

-Tracy –
-It's not far to the pool.

It's just over the lawn and in the birch grove.
It'll be lovely now.

Tracy, you're tremendous.

Put me in your pocket. Mike.

Oh, I can't imagine
what makes me so sleepy.

Couldn't be the company, could it?

-Well, well, it's you, Mr. Dexter.
-Hello, Mac.

I heard you were about.

-Any prowlers around?
-No, no, no prowlers.

-Can Miss Imbrie get in this way?
-If she can't, you can always go in the back.

Yeah.

-Thanks, Mac. Good night.
-Good night, sir.

Well, home after a hard day's blackmailing.

When are you going to telephone Kidd?

In time to get him here for the wedding.

-Why?
-Hmm.

Sort of wedding present... if it works.

If it works.

I could still tear it up.

No. Mike's only chance to ever become
a really fine writer is to get fired.

You're a good number, Liz.

Oh, I just photograph well.

I'm certainly out of focus now.

Why don't you take a swim?

-A swim?
-Sure.

Tracy and I
always took a swim after a party.

-Did you?
-Mm-hmm.

Bet it was fun.

I'll have to try it with Mike sometime.

Liz, why don't you marry him?

-You really want to know?
-Mm-hmm.

He's still got a lot to learn.

I don't want to get in his way for a while.

-Okay?
-Okay.

Ah, it's risky though, Liz.

Suppose another girl
came along in the meantime?

I'd scratch her eyes out, I guess.

That is, unless she was going to marry
somebody else the next day.

Hey!

-Hello, Kittredge.
-What are you doing here?

Oh, I'm a friend of the family's.
Just dropped in for a chat.

Now, don't try to be funny.
I asked you a question.

I could ask you the same question.

Well, I telephoned Tracy,
and her phone didn't answer.

I was worried,
so I walked over from the gatehouse.

-I was worried too.
-About what?

Uh, what do you think
of this fellow Connor, or do you?

Listen, if you're trying to insinuate –

My dear chap,
I wouldn't insinuate anything, only –

Kittredge, I'd advise you to go to bed.

I don't want your advice.
I'm staying right here.

All right, you're making a mistake.
Somehow I don't think you'll understand.

-Well, you'd better leave that to –
-MIKE:. ♪ Dreams really do come true ♪

♪ Someday I'll wish upon a star ♪

-What's that?
-Oh, that's Mac, the night watchman.

Always singing, Mac is. I'll walk you
around the house, tell you all about it.

Something's going on here,
and I'm staying.

And so are you.

All right then.
Take the works.

Only heaven help you.

♪ Somewhere over the rainbow ♪

♪ Way up high ♪

♪ There's a land that I heard of
Once in a lullaby ♪

♪ Somewhere – ♪
♪♪ (humming)

♪ And the dreams that I dare to dre – ♪

-Uh-oh.
-Don't stop, Mikey. Keep crooning.

(clears throat)

♪ Someday over the rainbow ♪

♪ Way up high ♪

-What is this, Connor?
-Now, now, easy, old man.

-She's not hurt?
-No, no.

Not wounded, sire, but dead.

It seems the minute she hit the water,
the wine hit her.

-Now look here, Connor –
-A likely story, Connor.

-What'd you say?
-I said a likely story.

-Now listen, if you think –
-You'll be down directly?

-Yes, if you want.
-I want.

Hello, Dexter.

(low voice) Hello, George.

Hello, Mike. (chuckles)

Second door to the right, top of the stairs.
And mind you don't wake Dinah.

My feet are made of clay.
Made of clay. Did you know?

(high-pitched voice)
Good night, little man.

How are the mighty fallen.

But if I know Tracy – and I know her well –

she'll remember little of this.

For the second time in her life,
she'll draw quite a tidy blank.

Oh.

-You don't believe it then?
-Believe what?

Well, the, uh – the implications
of what you saw, let us say.

-Well, what else am I to believe?
-That's entirely up to you.

I got eyes, I got imagination, haven't I?

I don't know. Have you?

Oh, so you pretend not to believe it?

-Yes, I pretend not to.
-(scoffs)

-Then you don't know women.
-That's possible.

-And you're a fool.
-Well, that's quite possible.

-Now you won't be too hard on her, will you?
-I'll make up my own mind what I'll be!

Well, we're all only human, you know.

You – all of you –
with your sophisticated ideas.

Ain't it awful?

-Well?
-Why, you low –

Say, listen, what right have you –

A husband's. Till tomorrow, Kittredge.

Hoy. Hoy, fella.

How do you feel?

-Now, look, if you think I –
-I know, I know. I'm sorry.

But I thought I'd better hit you
before he did.

He's in better shape than I am.

Well, you'll do.

Hello, Mr. Dexter. Anything wrong?

Not a thing, Mac.
Just as quiet as a church.

Who is it?

Doggone. I thought it might
have been Mr. Kittredge.

Well, we can't have everything, Mac.

(chuckles) Good night.

-Mr. Tracy.
-(gasps)

Good grief, man. Don't scream at me
at the top of your voice like that.

Miss Dinah is waiting for you, sir.

Miss Dinah? Waiting for me? Where and why?

Just outside the door, sir.
I don't know why.

Oh, this is one of those days
which the pages of history teaches

are best spent lying in bed.

Yes, sir.

Uncle Willie!

Uncle Willie! Where are you going?

Back to bed, unless you'll give me your oath
you'll speak in a civilized tone of voice.

I'll be quiet, Uncle Willie.
It's so important that I see you.

Well, must we ride in that thing? Wouldn't
we be more comfortable on pogo sticks?

I had to be alone with you,
and this is very intimate.

(clicks tongue)

Oh! Oh! Oh!

-What's the matter?
-Oh, nothing. Nothing much.

My head just fell off, that's all.

What is all this gibberish
about Mr. Connor?

What makes you suspect what,
and since when?

Last night and well into the morning.

Uncle Willie,
isn't it my duty to tell George?

-He might want to marry her anyway.
-But she can't!

If she marries anyone,
it's just got to be Mr. Connor.

Why, Dinah,
what makes you think she should?

Apparently the little cherub
has heard or seen something.

That's Dexter's own Dinah.

I must say, you have a certain amount of cheek,
walking in here on this of all mornings.

-Do I?
-Yes.

What's all this about Mr. Connor, Dinah?
What's the matter?

Did the party last night
give you bad dreams?

-It wasn't any dream.
-Oh, I wouldn't be too sure.

It's pretty hard to tell
once you've gone to sleep, isn't it?

Is it?

What ho. The bride.

DINAH: Tracy.

Hello.

Um, isn't it a fine day though?

Is everybody fine?

That's fine.

My, I'm hearty.

Well, how do you feel otherwise?

Oh, I don't know what's the matter with me.
I – I must've had too much sun yesterday.

-My eyes don't open properly.
-Really?

Oh! Please go home, De-Dexter.

Not until we've got those eyes open.

Uncle Willie. Good morning.

That remains to be seen.

Aren't you here early, Uncle Willie?

It's nearly half past 12:00.

Well, it can't be. Wh-Where's Mother?

She's talking with the orchestra.
Father with the minister.

And Mr. Connor, he hasn't come down yet.

Mmm. And it's Saturday, your wedding day.
Remember?

Thanks loads.
It's nice to have things accounted.

Only I wonder what this might be.

-It looks terribly like a wristwatch.
-But whose? I – I found it in my room.

I nearly stepped on it.

Uh –

Uh, also, I think I was robbed
at your house last night, Uncle Willie.

My bracelet and engagement rings
are missing.

Here you are.

-But you weren't at the party.
-Wasn't I?

-Wh – Were you?
-Oh, now don't tell me you don't remember.

I do, now. Sort of.

But there were such a lot of people.
I – I stayed so late.

Oh, you should've taken a quick swim
when you got home.

A swim?

A swim?

There. Now they're open.

That was just the beginning,
and it was no dream.

Do you suppose, sir –
speaking of eye-openers –

Oh, that's the first sane remark
I've heard today. Come along, Dexter.

I know a formula that is said to pop
the pennies off the eyelids of dead Irishmen.

Oh, Dinah, if the conversation should lag,
you might tell Tracy about your dream.

What did he say?

Oh, nothing.

Tray, I hate you
to get married and go away.

I'll miss you, darling.
I'll miss all of you.

You know, I did have the funniest dream
about you last night.

Did you? Do you like my dress, Dinah?

Yes, ever so much.

It feels awfully heavy.

-It was all certainly pretty rooty-tooty.
-What was?

-My dream.
-Oh, Dinah.

I dreamed I got up
and went over to the window.

Guess what I dreamed I saw
coming over out of the woods?

I haven't the faintest idea. A skunk?

Well, sort of. It was Mr. Connor.

Mr. Connor.

Yes, with his both arms full of something.

-And guess what it turned out to be?
-What?

You and some clothes.

Wasn't it funny? It was sort of like
as if you were coming from the pool.

The pool.

I'm going crazy. I'm standing here solidly
on my own two hands and going crazy.

Then what?

Then after a while,
I opened my door a crack,

and there he was in the hall,
still coming along with you,

puffing like a steam engine.

His wind can't be very good.

Then what?

-And you were sort of crooning.
-I never crooned in my life.

I'm only saying what it sounded like.

And then he –

-Guess what.
-I couldn't possibly.

Then he just sailed right into your room
with you, and that scared me,

so I got up and went to your door
and peeked in

to make sure you were all right.

-And guess what.
-What?

You were. He was gone by then.

(sighs) Gone?

Of course he was gone. He was never there.

-I know, Tracy.
-Well, I should certainly hope you did.

I'm certainly glad I do,
because if I didn't

and in a little while,
I heard the minister say,

"If anyone knows any just cause or reason

why these two should not be united
in holy matrimony,"

I just wouldn't know what to do.

-But Dexter says it's a dream too.
-Dex – You told Dexter all that?

Not a word. Not a single word.

But you know how quick he is.

Dinah Lord, you little fiend.
How can you stand there and say –

Dinah, your mother wants
to have a look at you.

-I look wonderful.
-Yes?

-I smell good too.
-Father.

Yes, Tracy.

I, uh – I'm glad you came back.

I'm glad you're here.

Why, thank you, child.

I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry.

I'm a disappointment to you.

I never said that, Daughter,

and I never will.

-Good morning.
-Oh. Hello.

Ah, yes.

(sniffing)

I'm testing the air.
I like it, but it doesn't like me.

Well, hello, Dinah.

How do you do?

Did you have a good sleep?

Wonderful. Wonderful. And you?

M-Marvelous.
Have you ever seen a handsomer day?

Never. Never. What'd it set you back?

I got it for nothing for being a good girl.

Good. Good.

Don't worry. I'm going.

TRACY: Why should you?

Well, I guess you must have things
you wish to discuss.

Only remember, it's getting late.

She's always trying to make situations.

(chuckling)

Well.

Well.

-What's the matter with your chin?
-Chin? Oh.

Oh. Why? Does it show very much?

A little. What happened?

Well, I guess I stuck it out too far.

Into a door in the dark?

Yes. Yes, that's it.
Well, Tracy, what about you?

-You all right?
-Me?

-Yeah.
-Oh, of course. Why shouldn't I be?

I don't know. That was a flock of wine
we got away with.

I guess we're lucky both
to have such good heads.

Yeah. Yeah, I guess that's it.

Well, anyway,
I – I had a simply wonderful evening.

I hope you enjoyed it too.

I enjoyed the last part of it.

Really?

Why especially the last?

Well, Tracy, are you asking me?

-Oh, you mean the swim.
-Yeah.

(forced laughing) We did swim.

And so forth, didn't we?

-Mike.
-Oh, Tracy, darling.

-Mike.
-What can I say to you? Tell me, darling.

Not anything. Don't say anything,
and especially not "darling."

-Then you're going through with it, huh?
-Through with what?

The wedding.

Wh – Why shouldn't I?

Well, I made a funny discovery,

that in spite of the fact
that somebody's up from the bottom,

he can still be quite a heel,

and even though somebody else
is born to the purple,

he – he can still be a very nice guy.

Why, I-I'm – I'm just repeating
what you said last night.

I said a lot of things last night,
it seems.

Okay. No dice.

Also no regrets about last night, huh?

Why should I have?

Oh, Tracy, you're wonderful.

You don't know what I mean.
I'm asking you. Tell me straight out.

Tell me the reason
why I should have... have.

No, don't.

Just tell me, what time is it?

What? Oh. Oh.

Well, what happened to my wristwatch?

Why, is it broken?

Well, I guess I must've lost it someplace.

I can't tell you
how extremely sorry I am to hear that.

-There, on the table.
-Oh.

I wonder who found it.
I'll offer a reward or something.

I don't think that any reward
will be expected.

Funny it'd pop up here.

Hey, uh, what about an eye-opener, huh?

My eyes are opened.

You go ahead and get one
if you want to though.

-Yeah, I think I will.
-All right.

Excuse me, will you?

Yes, yes.

No, just give Mr. Kittredge the message.
Tell him he'd better start immediately.

Thank you.

-Are you one of the musicians?
-Uh-huh. No. No.

-Oh, of course. You're Junius's friend.
-No, I'm –

Only you're not.
You don't have any violin strings, do you?

Uh, aspirin. Would that do?

I don't think so. It's for a violin.
Oh, well, don't bother.

Oh, dear.

-Hello, Connor. How are you?
-Well, just about as you'd think.

Have you seen Kidd?

No, I left a copy of it at my house
for him though.

-Yeah?
-I'll have it out with him after the wedding.

-Is that an alcoholic beverage?
-Yes. Why?

-For me?
-No, it's for Tracy. Why? Do you want one?

Listen, I'd sell my grandmother for a drink.
You know how I love my grandmother.

Well, Uncle Willie's around in the pantry
doing weird and wonderful things.

-Tell him I said one of the same.
-Mmm.

Mind if I make it two?

That's between you and your grandmother.

Doctor's orders, Red.

What is it?

Mm, just the juice of a few flowers.

It's a type of stinger. Removes the sting.

Oh, Dext, don't say that. (crying)

-Well, why not, Red?
-Nothing will. Nothing ever can.

Oh, Dext, I –

I've done the most terrible thing to you.

To me?

Oh, I doubt that.
I doubt it very much, dear.

You don't know. You don't know.

Well, maybe I shouldn't, huh?

But you must. You've got to.
I couldn't stand it if you didn't.

Dext, what am I going to do?

But why to me, darling? Why ask me?

Why do I come into it anymore?

Aren't you confusing me with someone else?
A fellow named Kittredge or something?

George.

George. Splendid chap, George.

Very high morals. Very broad shoulders.

I've got to tell him.

Tell him what, darling?

I've got to tell him.

Well, if you've got to tell him,
you've got to tell him, I suppose.

But if he's got any brains at all, he'll have
realized by now what a fool he made of himself.

How? Hello, George? This is – Yeah.

Look, George, I don't care
whether it's bad luck or not,

but I've got to see you for a minute
before the wedding.

What? No, I didn't get it.

Right. Right. Come on the run.
He sent a note over at ten o'clock.

Good. I told you he'd come to his senses.

Was he here too?

Sure.

Good golly, why didn't you sell tickets?

Say something, Dext.

Say anything.

No, you do.

Oh, Dext.

I'm such an unholy mess of a girl.

Well, that's no good.
That's not even conversation.

But never in my life –

not if I live to be a hundred –

will I ever forget how you tried
to stand me on my feet again today.

Oh, you – you're in great shape.

Oh.

Tell me, what did you think
of my wedding present?

I like my presents
at least acknowledged, you know.

It was beautiful.

And sweet, Dext.

Yes, yeah.

She was quite a boat,
the True Love, wasn't she?

Was and is.

My, she was yare.

She was yare, all right.

I... wasn't, was I?

Not very.

Oh, you were good
at the bright work though.

-I made her shine.
-Mm-hmm.

Where is she now?

I'm going to sell her to Rufe Watriss.

-You're going to sell the True Love?
-Mm-hmm.

-For money?
-Sure.

To that fat, old rum pot?

Oh, well, what does it matter?

When you're through with a boat,
you're through.

Besides, it was only comfortable
for two people.

Unless you want her.

No. No, I don't want her.

Well, I'm designing another one anyway,
along more practical lines.

What'll you call her?

I thought the True Love ll.
What do you think?

Dexter, if you call any boat that, I promise you,
I'll blow you and it out of the water.

I'll tell you what you can call her,
if you like.

What?

In fond remembrance of me,
The Easy Virtue.

Now shut up, Red. I can't have you
thinking things like that about yourself.

Well, what am I supposed to think when I –

Oh, I don't know.
I don't know anything anymore.

Oh, that sounds very hopeful, Red.
That sounds just fine.

(chuckles)

Tracy? We're almost ready.

Stand up, dear. Turn around.

Oh, yes, it's lovely.

I'm glad we decided against the –
Dexter, you shouldn't be here.

-Hmm?
-Against the blue one, dear.

Now, no games, Dexter.

George'll be right over. I just telephoned.
Here's a note he sent you this morning.

Oh, dear, doesn't everything look lovely?

Dr. Parsons.

Tracy?

Oh, Mr. Kittredge hasn't arrived yet,
Dr. Parsons.

Come along. I want you
to meet Tracy's grandmother.

Now, Tracy, don't sit down again
until after the ceremony.

Oh, by the way, Dexter, they telephoned from
your house that a Mr. Sidney Kidd was there.

I was to tell you that he's reading it.
Whatever on earth does that mean?

Well, I have a feeling
it won't be so hard for me to resign now.

And belts will be worn tighter this winter.

Well, Red, I'm afraid it's the deadline.

So is this. Listen.

"My dear Tracy, I want you to know
that you will always be my friend,

but your conduct last night was so shocking
to my ideals of womanhood that –"

No, don't go.
You might as well hear it too.

"...to my ideals of womanhood
that my attitude toward you

and the prospect of a happy
and useful life together

has been changed materially.

-Your breach of common decency cer –"
-GEORGE: Tracy.

Hello, George.

Tracy, all these people.

It's only a letter from a friend.

They're my friends too.

"... certainly entitles me
to a full explanation

before going through
with our proposed marriage.

In the light of day,
I am sure that you will agree with me.

Otherwise, with profound regrets
and all best wishes,

yours very sincere –"

Yes, George, I quite agree with you.

In the light of day and the dark of night,

for richer, for poorer, for better, for worse,

in sickness and in health,

and thank you so very much
for your good wishes at this time.

-That's all you have to say?
-What else?

I wish, for your sake as well as mine,
I had an explanation,

but, unfortunately, I've none.

You'd better just say
"Good riddance," George.

-It isn't easy, you know.
-I don't see why.

-Say something, stupid.
-Just wait a minute.

What for?

On the very eve of your wedding,
an affair with another man.

I told you I agree, George,
and I tell you again, good riddance to me.

Tracy, your attitude
is a little difficult to understand.

-Yes, I can see that it would be.
-Not necessarily.

You keep out of this.

You forget, I am out of it.

Kittredge, it may interest you to know
that this so-called affair

consisted of exactly two kisses
and a rather late swim.

-Thanks, Mike, but there's no need to defend –
-All of which I thoroughly enjoyed

and the memory of which
I wouldn't part with for anything.

It's no use, Mike.

After which I deposited Tracy
on her bed in her room

and promptly returned down here to you two,
which doubtless you'll remember.

Doubtless. Without a doubt.

-You mean to say that was all there was to it?
-I do.

Why? Was I so unattractive, so distant,
so forbidding or something that you –

-Well, this is fine talk too.
-I'm asking a question.

You were extremely attractive, and as
for distant and forbidding, on the contrary.

But you also were a little the worse,
or better, for wine,

and there are rules about that.

Thank you, Mike.
I think men are wonderful.

The little dears.

I fail to see the humor
in this situation, Miss Imbrie.

I can appreciate that.
It was hard for me too, at first.

-Oh, Liz, I –
-Oh, it's all right, Tracy.

We all go haywire at times,
and if we don't, maybe we ought to.

Liz.

You see, it – it really wasn't Tracy
at all, Mr. Kittredge.

It was another girl. A Miss Pommery 1926.

You'd had too much to drink, Tracy.

That seems to be the consensus of opinion.

Will you promise me
never to touch the stuff again?

No, George, I don't believe I will.

There are certain things about that other girl,
that Miss Pommery '26, I rather like.

But a man expects his wife to –

-To behave herself. Naturally.
-To behave herself naturally.

Sorry.

But if it hadn't been for that drink last night,
all this might not have happened.

Apparently nothing did.

What made you think it had?

Well, it didn't take much imagination.

Not much, perhaps,
but just of a certain kind.

It seems you didn't think
anything too well of yourself.

That's the odd thing, George.

Somehow I'd have hoped
that you'd think better of me than I did.

I'm not going to quibble, Tracy.
All the evidence was there.

And I was guilty straight off.
That is, until I was proved innocent.

Yeah, downright un-American,
if you ask me.

Nobody is asking you.

-You forgot your hat, Miss Tracy.
-Oh.

And you look lovely, Miss Tracy.
All our very best wishes.

Dexter, I do wish you'd let me know
when you invite people to Tracy's weddings.

Why? What happened, darling?

A Mr. Sidney Kidd is here.
He says he knows you.

Sidney Kidd is here, himself?

What else did Mr. Sidney Kidd have to say?

Oh, he sent you the strangest message.

He said, "Tell Haven he wins.
Tell him I'm licked."

-Wins what, Dexter?
-Well, it's – uh –

Mr. Sidney Kidd's presence here
makes the marriage of national importance.

Well, I think it's extremely kind
and thoughtful of him.

Come on, Tracy. It must be late.

Let's let bygones be bygones.
What do you say?

Yes, and good-bye, George.

-I don't understand you.
-Please, good-bye.

-But look here, Tracy. I –
-You're too good for me, George.

-You're a hundred times too good.
-But I never said I –

And I'd make you most unhappy, most –

That is, I'd do my best to.

Well, if that's the way you want it.

That's the way it is.

All right.

Possibly it's just as well.

Yes, I thought you'd finally
come to that conclusion.

I have a feeling you had more
to do with this than anyone.

Possibly, but you were a great help.

You and your whole rotten class!

Class, my eye.

You're on your way out, the lot of you,
and good riddance.

There goes George.

♪ Da, dee-da-da-da ♪

♪ Dee-da-da-da, da-da, da – ♪

-♪♪ (organ)
-Oh, my sainted aunt.

♪♪ (organ, strings: "Bridal Chorus")

-That welter of faces.
-Oh, my, they look solemn.

What in the name of all that's holy
am I to do?

-Tracy.
-Yes, Mike?

Old Parson Parsons –
He's never seen Kittredge before, has he?

Now, look, I got you into this thing,
and I'll get you out of it.

Will you marry me, Tracy?

No, Mike.

Thanks, but... mm-mmm.

Nope.

Listen, I've never asked a girl
to marry me before in my life.

I've avoided it,
but you've got me all confused now.

Why not?

Because I don't think Liz would like it...

and I'm not sure you would,

and I'm even a little doubtful about myself.

But I am beholden to you, Mike.

I'm most beholden.

But they're in there. They're waiting.

Don't get too conventional
all at once, will you?

There'll be a reaction.

Cheer up, Red. It'll be all right.
You've been got out of jams before.

-Been got out of them, did you say?
-Certainly. Don't worry.

You always have been.

-Tracy.
-Mother.

We've seen George. It's all right, dear.

Your father will make
a very simple announcement.

Is there anything special
you want me to say, Tracy?

Uh... no. No, I'll say it.
Whatever it is, I'll say it.

I won't be got out
of anything anymore, thanks.

I – Uh –

I, uh – I – Uh –

Hello. Good morning. I –

-Stop that music.
-♪♪ (organ, strings stop)

I'm terribly sorry
to have kept you waiting,

but there's been a slight hitch
in the proceedings.

I've made a terrible fool of myself,
which isn't unusual.

And my fiancé –
Uh, my fiancé that was, that is,

he thinks we better call it a day.

And I quite agree with him.

-Peace is wonderful.
-(guests murmuring)

Uh, be – Uh – Dexter, Dexter, what next?

Two years ago I did you out of a wedding
in this house by eloping to Maryland.

Two years ago, uh, you were invited –

May I, dear? Just a loan.

-Here, put this ring in your vest pocket.
-I don't have a vest.

-Then hold it in your hand.
-Oh.

-Which was very bad manners.
-Which was very bad manners.

But I hope to make it up to you by going
through with it now as originally planned.

But I hope to make it up to you by –

by going beautifully through with it now

as originally and most beautifully planned.

So if you'll just keep your seats
for a minute.

So if you'll just keep your seats a minute.

-That's all.
-Uh, that's all.

-Dexter, are you sure?
-Not in the least. But I'll risk it. Will you?

You bet! You didn't do it
just to soften the blow?

-No, Tracy.
-Nor to save my face?

-Ah, it's a nice little face.
-Oh, Dexter, I'll be yare now.

-I'll promise to be yare.
-Be whatever you like. You're my redhead.

-Are you all set?
-All set.

-Best man?
-Honored, C.K.

-Maid of honor?
-Matron of honor. Remember Joe Smith.

Oh, how did this ever happen?

You'd better tell Mr. Dutton
to start the music.

Oh, this can't be happening. It just can't.
But come with me, Miss Imbrie.

Well, come on.
Let's get in there, best man. Got the ring?

Yeah. The way we're dressed,
we look like a couple of stowaways.

See you soon, Red.

See you soon, Dext.

-Tracy, darling.
-I love you, Father.

I love you too, Tracy.

Never in my life
have I been so full of love before.

Come along. Come along.

Wait. How do I look?

Like a queen. Like a goddess.

-And do you know how I feel?
-How?

Like a human. Like a human being.

-Do you know how I feel?
-How?

Proud.

♪♪ (organ, strings: "Bridal Chorus")

I did it. I did it all.

I feel as though I'd lived
through all this before in another life.

(shutter clicks)