All language subtitles for That_Uncertain_Feeling

How are you, darling?

It's gone.

It comes and it goes.
- How annoying.

Believe me, it's of no importance.
- And yet it makes you so nervous.

I only say what the doctor said:

To forget it and not to worry.
- Well, I worry.

Dr Vengard. I repeat it:
Dr Vengard is the man for you.

Don't let's go into that again.
I'll not be psychoanalyzed.

Now, Jill.
That's a very middle-class attitude.

I'm a perfectly normal woman.
- That sounds awfully dull.

My dear, you mustn't say that
about yourself. Not even in fun.

Seriously, Jill. Go to Dr Vengard.

He certainly did wonders
for Molly McLean.

She suffered so much from claustrophobia
she couldn't ride in an elevator.

Can you imagine what that means
to a woman living in a penthouse?

Dr Vengard cured her?
- He must have.

I read the other day in Winchell's
column she ran off with an elevator boy.

Molly McLean? Of all people.

My name is Mrs Baker.
- I know. Mrs Tolling phoned me.

Will you please be seated?

Mrs... Baker.

Your first name?
- Jill.

Jill Baker.

685 Park Avenue.

685.

Park Avenue.

Your age, Mrs Baker?

Twenty-two.

I am your doctor, Mrs Baker.

Twenty-four.

Thank you.

Doctor, I want to be frank with you.

I'm absolutely certain there's
nothing really wrong with me.

I'm sure you will feel differently
when you leave this office.

You see, most people know
nothing about themselves.

Nothing.

Their own real personality is
a complete stranger to them.

Now, what I'm trying to do is to
introduce you to your inner self.

I want you to get
acquainted with yourself.

Wouldn't you like to meet you?
- No.

You see, I'm a little shy.

Alright. What seems to be the trouble?

Well.

It's difficult to show the symptoms
at the moment because...

It comes and it goes.

Oh.

It comes and it goes.

Yes. It's so unfortunate.

It's always the same
whenever I see a doctor.

When.

When I come, it goes.

And when I go it comes.

Mrs Baker.

Whatever comes and whatever goes...

There's no denying it worries you a lot.

So please drop all your inhibitions.

Release your inner self
and speak freely.

What comes and what goes?

Hiccups.

Hiccups?

Yes.

Whenever I get nervous or
irritated I get the hiccups.

It's rather unpleasant and...

Sometimes very uncomfortable.

Naturally, it's a little early
to make any diagnosis.

But you apparently get these hiccups
because of a nervous condition.

Let's see what causes that condition.

Sounds plausible.
- Thanks.

Would you mind stepping
into the next room?

Uhuh. Well, there's nothing
unusual in your childhood.

Let us examine your present life.

Let us look at it through a magnifying
glass. Let us examine every detail.

Mrs Baker.

You're married?
- Yes.

When did you marry?
- I was 19.

For how long?
- For 6 years.

To the same husband?
- Yes.

Aha.

Doctor, believe me.
There's nothing wrong with my marriage.

You can go through all Park Avenue
and not find a happier couple.

I'm sorry. But it's my duty
to explore every avenue.

Especially Park Avenue.

How old is your husband?
- 35.

Job?

Vice president of an insurance company.
Please leave my marriage alone.

Very well. Just relax.

We'll talk about something
entirely different.

Do you suffer from headaches?
- No.

How is your appetite?
- Good.

How do you sleep?

Frankly, not so well.

How does your husband sleep?

Very well.

Uhuh.

During one of these sleepless nights
when you wriggle around restlessly.

When you look to your
right what do you see?

My dressing table.
- When you look left what do you see?

My husband.
- Sleeping?

Yes.
- Uhuh.

What are you trying to do?
Break up my marriage?

No.

Just wake up your husband.

Thank you. That will be all for today.

Doctor, my husband is nothing
to do with my sleeplessness.

It's just that I'm super sensitive
to noises. To the slightest sound.

Does your husband snore?

No.

But I admit he breathes rather heavily.
- Oh, he does?

I doubt there's anything I can do.

After all, he has to breathe.
- I suppose so.

Well, Mrs Baker.

I'm afraid your husband's ability to
sleep is too big a challenge for you.

It's rather like.

Well.

Have you ever been on a diet?
- Yes. A vegetable diet.

How would you feel if you
struggle on carrots...

And someone next to you
eats a big, juicy steak?

With a large baked potato?
- Yes.

My husband. Two weeks ago.
- Didn't it make you nervous?

No.

But now you mention it.

Now I think of it,
it is rather irritating.

And not very considerate.
- No. It isn't.

After all, husbands want their wives to
keep their figures. On the other hand...

I say it's a total lack of cooperation.
- It is.

Hic.

Aha?

Hic!

Jill, dear.
- Hello, Margie.

Why haven't I heard from you?

How are you, dear?
- Alright.

Anything wrong?

Margie, you shouldn't have
sent me to Doctor Vengard.

Did you go back to him?
- No. I won't.

He won't break up my marriage. There's
nothing wrong between Larry and me.

That's what I say.

Are people talking about us?
- They wouldn't dare in my presence.

They know you and I are friends.

And I always defend you.
- I know dear.

Defend me against what?

After all, Town & Country
call you the 'Happy Bakers'.

That is sticking out your chin.
- How many stay married for 6 years?

Why shouldn't they
call us the happy Bakers?

Why not?
Your name is Baker, isn't it?

Oh, Margie.

I've been perfectly miserable
for the last two weeks.

I'm so marriage conscious.

Whatever I look at or think of, I always
find I connect it with my marriage.

How I hate that Vengard.

Yet, if I'm honest I must admit...

What dear?

If a wife looks at her husband through a
magnifying lens she'll see something.

Yes. I should think so.

Things I was never aware of before.
Things I never noticed.

For instance?

It's just an illustration, but...

Like the other morning.

You know how difficult it
is for me to fall asleep.

Finally. When I'm lucky
enough to drop off.

Promptly at 8:15, what do I wake up to?

A gargle.

A gargle.

That's the bugle call of marriage.

A gargle is Reveille. A snore is TAPS.

And what is there between?

At 9 o'clock the morning
he goes out of my life.

Oh my dear. Isn't it the truth.

I don't know what's the truth anymore.

I'm completely confused.

I'm so uncertain.

I'd always heard the ideal marriage
should be something of a mystery.

That your husband should remain
a kind of stranger to you.

Someone whose acquaintance you
would like to renew every day.

You know what I mean.
- Yes, dear.

Don't say anything.

Hello.

Margie.
- Hello Larry.

Hello darling.
- Hello.

How are you?
- Fine. And you?

Okay. Have a good day?

Yes. And you?
- Good.

Anything new?
- No, With you?

Nothing.
- Good.

I'll see you later.

Well, what could he say?

Of course, dear. There was nothing
new and he frankly admitted it.

Jill.

Yes?

The Coopers coming to dinner?

I don't know yet, darling.
I'll let you know as soon as they phone.

I wish you would because if
they come I must share you.

Alright, darling.

Now, I don't want to cause any trouble.

But cold facts are cold facts.

If Mr and Mrs Cooper come.

That big awful-looking Mrs Cooper.

He shaves.

And if he dines alone with
his wife he doesn't shave.

If anybody should shave
it is Mrs Cooper.

I spent three hours today at Elizabeth
Arden's but I don't rate a shave.

My dear, that's the trouble
with 95 percent of all marriages.

Husbands don't shave.

Don't men realize that a beard
doesn't stop growing at 8 o'clock?

Hic.

Hic!

Larry.

Yes, dear?

They're back.

Fine. Did they have a good trip?

Who?

The Evans.

Say, that reminds me. That son-of-a-gun
was to call me the minute he got back.

I'll bet Continental is after
him about his annuity.

The Evans's are still in Bermuda.

The hiccups are back.

Huh?

Oh.

The joke is on me, huh.

That's very cute.

Keeks.

Larry.
- Huh?

When you came in just now you
asked me if there was anything new.

Say, there is something new.

And something very important.

Know who comes to dinner next Thursday?

The president of Universal Mattress.

And the president and treasurer
of United Furniture.

And other high executives
of both companies.

Good grief.

I know it's going to
be one of those nights.

Universal Mattress and United
Furniture have merged.

They're reshuffling their
entire insurance account.

Now, the tough man to crack is
Kafka at Universal Mattress.

I've done a little detective work.
He's a Hungarian.

As a matter of fact they
are all Hungarians.

So let's give the dinner a kind-of...

Hungarian touch, huh?
- Look, Larry.

Now listen, darling. I don't expect
you to behave like a gypsy but...

Let's hire a Hungarian cook and...

Make him a wonderful goulash.

Kafka will love it.

I'll get that insurance account...

If I have to stuff that Hungarian
like one of his own mattresses.

And to make him feel really at home...

Our foreign division
manager tipped me off.

Just before they start
to eat, you say...

'Egesh sheggerat'.

'Egesh sheggerat'.

'Egesh sheggerat'.

It means 'to your health'
or something like that.

'Egesh sheggerat'.

Uhuh.

Well.

It's just a little thing
but you know how it is.

Success in business is 50 percent hard
work and 50 percent the rights of God.

Egesh sheggerat.

That's great, darling. Swell.

Only, a little more cheerful.

You know... Egesh sheggerat.

Egesh sheggerat.

Oh, you mean... Egesh sheggerat?

Egesh sheggerat.

That's it. That's it.

That's great, darling.

Say. Keeks.

Larry.
- Hmm?

Why do you do that?

Do what?
- Keeks.

Well.

I always do that.
- Why?

Well.

Why does one do things?

But when you do it what does it mean?

Is there some underlying fault?

No.

No. Just a habit isn't it.

Yes. If you want to call it that.

Like scratching your head
or patting your dog.

Would you do it to some other woman?

I don't know. I've never tried.

But you do it to me.

You are my wife.

That gives you the right to poke me
in the stomach whenever you want?

Darling, do you feel well?

Fine.

Larry.

Please don't keeks me anymore.

Boo!

That wasn't the dog. That was me.

[ Dog barking ]

Shush.

How do you do.

How do you do, Mrs Baker.
Dr Vengard will be a little late.

I hope you don't mind.

Ugly.

Ugly.

Aren't they ugly?

Who?

People.

Is there anything uglier
than a human face?

Do you mind if I smoke?

Not at all.

Do you smoke yourself?

Yes.

You haven't got a cigarette, eh?

Yes.

You haven't any without tips?

Unfortunately not.
- I'm sorry.

Phooey.

I've changed my mind.
I will have a cigarette.

Yes. Thank you.

Have you seen this doctor before?

Yes.

How much did he charge?

I really don't know. I haven't asked.

Oh. You didn't have to.

Dr Vengard just phoned. He'll be
detained at least another half hour.

Another half hour?

Then we have two alternatives.

We can read a magazine or we can talk.

It's a lovely day, isn't it.
- Yes.

That takes care of that.
Let's forget it.

Or do I bore you?
- No. On the contrary.

Let me warn you that I say what I think.
I'm a complete individualist.

Really?

I'm against communism,
capitalism, fascism, Nazism.

I'm against everything and everybody.

I hate my fellow man and he hates me.

It sounds rather amusing.

So, I amuse you?
I'm a clown eh? Pagliacci.

No. I didn't say that.
- It's alright. Don't apologize.

Is this Vengard a good doctor?

I'm sure he would do you a lot of good.

Why do you say that?

What's wrong with me?

I really wouldn't know.
After all, I'm not the psychoanalyst.

Uhuh.

What's wrong with you?

Nothing.

Then why are you here?

You don't go to a psychoanalyst
to have a tooth filled.

So what's wrong?

I think we had better read magazines.

Alright.

Phooey.

I hate to bother you again.

But what does one
have to do to be happy?

I think Dr Vengard would
know more about that than I.

More than you, Mrs Baker?

Oh, that article.
- You know, Mrs Baker.

This is the first time in my life I
have ever met a really happy person.

It seems to irritate you.
- Oh no. It makes me curious.

I've often wondered what it would
be like to be happy 24 hours a day.

It must be wonderful.
- One gets used to it.

In the morning you're wakened
by the twitter of a little bird.

Before breakfast you and
Mr Baker dance a minuet.

Then the happy breakfast starts.

You are happy. Mr Baker is happy.

The eggs are happy.

The hens who laid the eggs are happy.

Now look here.

My presence seems to annoy
you so I think I'll leave.

I'm sorry, Mrs Baker. But if you feel
that way, naturally it is I who will go.

Oh no. I'm afraid you need
the doctor more than I.

Are you sure, Mrs Baker?

You see, that's an interesting question.

We're both here for the
same reason. Happiness.

One has not enough.

One has too much.

Who needs the doctor more?

It's interesting, isn't it?

Rather. But I don't like to discuss it.

Yes. I understand, Mrs Baker.

I am very happy to have met you.

Very sorry if I offended you.

Goodbye, Mrs Baker.
- Goodbye.

Phooey.

Just a moment.

Yes?

May I ask one question?

Certainly.

Yes?

What's wrong with that picture?

Are you really interested?
- Yes.

Sit down.

This artist saw no more in that tree.

Than the camera which photographed
the happy Mrs Baker.

It's only the surface.

Art goes much deeper.

You see, if I were a painter
and I were to paint you.

I don't know what the
picture would look like.

But it wouldn't look
like that photograph.

Do I make sense?

Yes.

Quite a bit of sense.

How do you do.

Hello Sebastian.
- Hello.

By the way, my name is Sebastian.

Alexander Sebastian.

The name mean anything to you? Be frank.

Well, if you insist. No.

That's alright. Alright.
Why should it?

Let's have a look at the pictures.

'Number 15'.

'Child with trumpet'?

No good.

I was afraid it was.

The artist hasn't found himself yet.

When he does find himself, where is he?

Child with trumpet?

'Child' is alright.

But he missed very badly on the trumpet.
- Didn't he.

That won't live.

I hope not.

Phooey.

That's almost great.

Who painted it?
- A woman.

No man could be so malicious.

'26'.

'Eleanor Stroud'.

'Portrait of Alexander Sebastian'?

It's no use denying it. That is me.

That woman didn't paint me.
She performed an autopsy.

She saw me.

Frankly, the whole thing
looks to me like a puzzle.

A puzzle?

That is correct. Good.

I was a puzzle to her but
she was no puzzle to me.

And that's her revenge.

When I first saw that picture
I was terribly upset.

I don't blame you.

What do these notes mean?

I'm a musician. A pianist.

Oh. A pianist.

And this pedestal here?

Well, that...

That indicates greatness.

Tell me, why didn't you put your
statue there? Is there any reason?

There is.

You see that little line?

You mean this line?

That's my whole trouble.

Oh.

That line sent me to Dr Vengard.

You may as well know that I...

I am inhibited.

Artistically. Let's have a drink.

Just a moment. Just a moment.

What about this clock?

The clock?
- Yes.

Oh. That should never have been there.

Why?

Well, I...

That's a personal matter.

Are you sorry you came here?

No. No, on the contrary.

It's all so fascinating.
It's a new world.

I can't quite grasp it.

Whatever you want to know
about me, just ask me.

That clock shows 12:15.

Is it 12:15 by accident or
does it mean something?

It means something.

Let's stop talking about myself.
Let's talk about something else.

When is your next concert?

Yes. When?

When I overcome it.

Overcome what?
- That little line.

You mean your inhibitions?
- Yes.

You sew, when I play...
- Tell me.

This 12:15. Is it noon?

Midnight.

Any particular midnight?

Hmm.

Coming back to my inhibitions.

When I play in a drawing room...
- Pardon me.

Was it Eastern Standard Time?

Daylight saving.
- Summer?

Yes.

Well, when I play in a drawing
room for just one person.

The right person.

I'll be very frank with you. I doubt
there's a greater pianist in the world.

But as soon as I get in a concert
hall in front of an audience.

No.

Something gets lost.

Those faces staring at me.

What right have they to
come in and stare at me?

What right have they to listen to me?
Just because they paid two dollars?

In some cases two-fifty.

Why do I bother you with all this?
- But I'm glad you did.

It's fascinating.

You are a puzzle,
Mr Alexander Sebastian.

And don't you try to 'solve' me,
Mrs Happy Baker.

Come on.

Mrs Kafka.

Mr Janicek.

Mrs Jarishi.

Mr Jones.

Jones?

How does a foreigner like
that get in here tonight?

He's Mr Baker's lawyer.

Oh.

I suppose we must always have
a lawyer with Hungarians.

[ Buzzer ]

Good evening, sir.
- Evening.

How's the goulash doing?
- Fine, Mr Baker.

Did a package arrive for me?
- Not yet, sir.

Hello, darling.
- Hello, dear.

Anything new?
- No.

Have a good day?
- Marvelous.

All set for a big night?
- All set.

Ah.

Remember your word?

Egesh sheggerat.
- Egesh sheggerat. That's it.

Good.

[ Door knocks ]

What is it?

Your package had arrived, sir.
Albert didn't tell me.

Fine.

[ Hungarian music ]

Phooey.

May I ask what you are doing here?

Waiting.

Oh. You are waiting.

Tell me, how soon do we have dinner?

Dinner?

That's what I was invited for.

Oh.

I'm sorry.

Tell me.

Are you with Universal Mattress
or United Furniture?

I'm not with anything.

Oh. Playing both sides, huh?

That's not such a bad idea.

Tell me, how do you feel about Mr Kafka?

Indifferent.

I can tell you nobody is going
to put anything over on him.

He's pretty smart. I think it's very
clever they have merged.

The merger will out, won't it?

Look.

You want me to enjoy
this evening, don't you?

Why yes. Certainly.
- Alright. Come here.

This vase insults me.

It's ugly.

Let's put it away.

Sure. Of course.

The customer is always right.

Anything else in the room
you'd like to change?

Lots.

I think we're going to have
a very enjoyable evening.

I'll let you in on a little secret.

We've got goulash.

Goulash?
- Yeah, Goulash.

Scrambled eggs for me.

Only a suggestion.

Forgive me. I must dress.

Just continue to make yourself at home.

These Hungarians are
certainly funny people.

Have they come?
- One of them has.

Look, dear. Aren't we dressing?
- Why?

He isn't.

Oh, that's Mr Sebastian.

Sebastian?

Who's he with?
- With? He is against.

Everything. He's an individualist.

Is he that rich?
- He doesn't care about that.

How do you know?

Dear, it's Sebastian.
Alexander Sebastian.

I told you the other day,
but that's the trouble.

You never listen to anything I say.
It makes no impression.

I remember now. That piano player.

He isn't a piano player.
He's a pianist.

And pretty soon he
will be very important.

Someday, you may be very happy
to insure his hands for $100,000.

Look, darling. I'm giving this dinner
especially for these Hungarians.

A pretty fair premium.

I don't know and I don't care.

You know, sometimes I
don't understand you.

Here, we have a $500,000
insurance possibility tonight.

I've gone to this trouble to get
up a special Hungarian evening...

For the president of Universal Mattress.

And you invite this piano player.
You should know better.

Musicians and mattresses don't mix.

Look, Larry.

For six years I've been living insurance
and I'm tired of being an annuity.

Can't I just myself spend one evening
with Rimsky-Korsakov and Stravinsky?

Rimsky-Korsakov? Stravinsky?

Who else is coming?

Why didn't you invite the
whole philharmonic...

And bring James Taylor
along as commentator?

Alright. Alright.
Let's drop the whole thing.

If you don't want him
to play he won't play.

Play?

Say, that's not a bad idea.

Maybe he can liven up the party, huh?

If Mr Sebastian consents
to play, which I doubt...

But if he does consent it
won't be Hungarian swing.

What will it be?

Something you'd have to pay
two and a half dollars to hear.

You mean.

You mean like Carnegie Hall?
- Exactly.

Not in my house. Not tonight.

What is this?

That's a reproduction of a
painting I saw in an art gallery.

Do you like that?
- I love it.

Well, what is it?

Can't you see?

Listen. Quit kidding me. What is it?

It's a portrait.

A portrait? Of what?

Of a man.

Listen. I know I'm just a poor
ignorant insurance dope...

And I don't know anything
about Stravinsky.

But we've been married for six years and
I've made you a pretty good husband.

When I ask you a question you
should be courteous and answer.

You don't have to make fun of me.

You know what this is? The Grand Canyon.

Sit here, Mrs Kafka.
- Thank you.

That's why, Mr Kafka, we
are the only company for you.

Sounds so reasonable.
Let's discuss it after dinner.

Yes, indeed. After dinner we'll
have a good talk right enough.

Alright.

Thank you, Mr Kafka.

You mean not even Lohengrin?

Especially not Lohengrin.
I give you all of Wagner.

Except one passage in Tristan that's so
good but you never hear it played right.

Perhaps someday I can hear you
play it as it should be played?

Perhaps.

I don't eat strawberries.

Oh, I'm sorry.
- Alright.

Everything alright, Mr Kafka?
- Uhuh. Fine.

Egesh sheggerat.

Egesh sheggerat.

Egesh sheggerat?

Egesh sheggerat.

[ Hungarian language ]

I thank you so much, Mrs Baker.
You make one feel at home.

That's what I call
hospitality, Mr Baker.

I didn't know she knew it.
I wonder where she picked that up.

What does it mean?

To your head.
- Isn't that nice.

And she pronounced it so well.

Ingut.

Egesh sheggerat.

Egesh sheggerat.

How come you speak Hungarian?

Were you born in Hungary?
- No. I studied music in Budapest.

Budapest? Yah. Budapest.

I lived at... what's
the name of the street?

Ambr�zia.

I just got a call. Kafka lunches with
the Hudson Insurance people tomorrow.

It's tonight or never.
- What about the legal angle?

My office works overtime
drawing up the contract.

Alright. I'll go right after them.

Enjoy the goulash, Mr Kafka?

Good goulash. Very good goulash.

If your firm is as good as your
cook we might get together.

I'm glad you brought that up.
Now, here are the details.

Come here a minute.
After all, we're partners.

I want you to listen to
Mr Baker's proposition.

Gentlemen. Here it is in a nutshell.

Everybody please.
I have a treat for you.

Mr Sebastian is a very
well-known pianist.

And he kindly consented to play for us.

So, if you'll all be seated.

Does he have to play?

Don't worry.

Mrs Baker.

Yes, Mr Sebastian?

Would you mind moving from here please.

Yes.

It's locked.

That's odd.

Where's the key?

Who has locked the piano?
Where's the key?

I don't know. That's a funny idea.
Why should anybody lock the piano?

It's ridiculous.
Why should anyone lock it?

Where's the key?

As I said, Mr Kafka.
My proposition is a very simple one.

But a very sound one.

I broke it.
- Don't worry.

I won't.

Now Mr Sebastian, please tell us.

What are you going to play?

Well, first I'm going to play...

Mrs Baker.

Yes, Mr Sebastian?

Alright.

I shall begin with the Sonata
Path�tique by Beethoven.

A sonata in three movements.

And afterwards, if I feel like it.

I shall play Huff's eleven variations on
the second theme of the first movement.

Followed.

By my own variation on Huff's variations
on the 2nd theme of the first movement.

Listen. How long is a sonata?

The only one I ever heard
lasted three cigars.

It's a catastrophe. It's a disaster.
Jones, we're sunk.

Alexander. Stop it.

Please don't.

No.

No.

You know, Jones. I'm glad you
got that clause in our contract.

It saved our necks. And another thing...

Wait a minute.
I'm going to have some fun.

How do you do.
- Hello, sir.

About that picture in the window.
- It's very good, don't you think?

No fooling. What is it?
- It's a portrait of a man.

Oh.

Certainly. What else can it be?

Excuse me, sir. Not everybody
understands modern art.

Thanks.

If you're interested it's only $500.

$500? It must be quite a man.

Well, it's not the man. He happens
to be rather an obscure musician.

Musician? What kind of a musician?

A pianist, I think.

Is it by any chance Alexander Sebastian?

That's who it is.

You recognised him.

He seems to be a friend of yours.

Wouldn't it be amusing to
have him in your home.

Permanently.

Not very amusing.

A cheap guy like that.

Who?

Him.

Goodbye, Jones.

Hello, darling.

This is a nice surprise for you.

Yes. Very nice.

'The Merry Farmer'.

What's he so merry about?

Darling, you don't begrudge
me a little music, do you?

Oh, no. No.

Anything new?
- This. Isn't it enough?

Yeah, plenty.

Have a good day?
- Fine.

It seems you feel better these days.
- Oh yes. I slept ten hours last night.

And Larry, the hiccups have
completely disappeared.

Isn't that good news?
- Yes. Very good news.

Are you still going to Dr Vengard?

Oh no. I don't need Dr Vengard anymore.

I'm so busy with my music
and visiting art galleries...

That I haven't time
to think of any doctor.

Oh.

Isn't that wonderful.

You know, I'm beginning
to see something in this.

Yes. It starts to look like a man.

Huh?

Why did you say that?

The other night.

You took that seriously?
I was only kidding.

How could that be a man?

I was nervous about the dinner party
and I said whatever came into my mind.

I'm sorry, darling.

No, dear. I don't agree with you.

It does look like a man.

Don't be stubborn.
Can't you take a joke?

Well then, what is it?

It is a... it's a meadow.

It's called 'Meadow in spring'.

Oh? In spring, huh?
- Yes.

And those little notes of music.
What do they mean?

That's the shepherd playing his pipe.

Shepherds play pipes, don't they?

Oh, sure. Yes.

And the clock at 12:15?

I don't know exactly
what that means but...

I guess it's probably lunch.

The shepherd eats and
then he plays his pipe.

Really darling. You talk as though
you'd never been in a meadow.

You see, in modern art they're trying
to break down the conventional form.

They're trying to get way
from what you expect.

It's all done by indication.

What are you doing?

Just putting a mustache on the shepherd.

I'll knock the guy right
through his piano.

That would be the worse
thing you can do.

You'd just make her feel sorry for him.

Don't make a martyr of him.

You've got to look at this
thing from a woman's angle.

Now wait a minute.

Miss Aikens. Will you come in please.

Miss Aikens.

We want a woman's point
of view on a certain situation.

Now, Mr Baker has a friend.

And he's in trouble.
- Who, Mr Baker?

No, the friend.

Oh, Mr Baker.

Shush.

Now Mr Baker has nothing
whatever to do with it.

Let us call the friend 'Mr Brown'.

Now, Mr Brown has a wife.

Mrs Brown.
- Exactly.

Mr and Mrs brown have
been married for...

How long?
- Well, say six years.

They live in Toledo.
- Six years in Toledo?

That's bad.
- Alright. Let's say New York.

Now, Mr Brown is worried
about his marriage.

Things aren't going along
as well as they used to.

What kind of a man is this Mr Brown?

Very nice.

Wouldn't you say so?
- Yes. Very nice.

Is he attractive?
- Very attractive.

Don't you think so?
- Yes.

And yet she's complaining?

Well, she drifts away from him.

Yes. And he wants to get
things back on the old basis.

Who doesn't?

Yes. Now, Miss Aikens.

As a woman, I ask you.

What is the right approach?

Well, I should say a mink
coat would do the trick.

She has a mink coat.
- Then what's she complaining about?

Thank you, Miss Aikens. That's all.

Well gentlemen, you wanted to
get a woman's point of view.

Just a moment.

Now look here.

Mrs Brown is interested in another man.
- Oh.

Oh. Does Mr Brown know?
- Yes.

Has he proof?
- Too much.

Has he any witnesses?
- No.

Then he's sunk.
- Thank you, Miss Aikens.

I'm sorry, Mr Baker.
If there's no witnesses she'll deny it.

If you want a woman's angle.

Miss Aikens. We're thoroughly satisfied.

I'm afraid I'm not the right
person to give you any advice.

I probably have too much
sympathy for Mr Brown.

And not enough patience with Mrs Brown.

We get cases like that every day.

The wife is bored.
Marriage is just a habit.

But on the other hand she accepts
everything her husband gives her.

I think she should be kicked out.

Do I sound old-fashioned?

We'll let you know, Miss Aikens.

Well anyway, I think Mr Brown
is a pretty swell guy.

I've always thought so.

Some woman.
- Yes.

She sure had a couple
of interesting angles.

I didn't notice them.
- Good.

Now Larry.

You still love your wife, don't you?
- Yeah.

Well, where do you go from here?

I have a dinner appointment
with C.K. Higgins at his club.

How can I sell insurance
with this on my mind?

It's a big deal too.
- Now, listen.

Forget Higgins. Forget insurance.

Go home.

There's only one thing you have to sell.

Yourself.

The most important client you ever
had in your life is waiting for you.

And her name is Mrs Baker.

Now, you're the best
salesman in the business.

There's nothing wrong
with your marriage.

You just have to resell
it once in a while.

That's not so easy.
- Who said it was?

Was it easy to sell hail insurance
in southern California?

Just find the right slant.

A new one.

Selling marriage with a new slant.
- Yes.

A new slant.

Not a bad idea.

But what's that new slant?
That's what I'd like to know.

What is it?

Marriage with a new slant.

A nice surprise, eh?

Hello, my genius.

Who are you going to be this evening?

Come. Tell your little cadenza.

Are you Mozart?

Playful? Tender?

Or are you the thundering Beethoven?

Strong, fiery, unyielding.

Come, darling. Tell your little cadenza.

It is wanton, the God of Gods.

Coming down to earth.

Anything serious?

No. She just fainted.

Women are all the same.

Any particular reason?

No, no.

She just thought I was a genius.

And then she found out I wasn't
and it was too much for her.

Make yourself at home. I'll be right
back. I want to get some smelling salts.

Now look, Baker.
Let's get this straight.

There will be a very heated discussion.
We're going to insult each other.

It can't be avoided.

You're going to accuse me of something
which I'll deny and you'll not believe.

So before this battle starts,
let's get one thing straight.

I'm not going to fight.

My hands are my only livelihood and
I'm not going to risk them on your jaw.

Here, Mozart.
Wake up our little cadenza.

What's happened?
- Well, I...

I...

You?

That's very funny.
You know what I thought?

[ Telephone ]

Hello?

Hello Jones. I am still selling.

You were right.
It needed an entirely new slant.

I think I've got a new one.

Baker, I don't trust you.

Go on. Have a cigar.

Either you have something in the back
of your mind or that cigar stinks.

No, no. That's the same
cigar I give my customers.

How old are you, Sebastian?

Not as old as you.

Right in the prime of life, huh?

You in good health?

Good enough.
Even better after I've had dinner.

But I'm not going to fight.
- No, no.

I don't want to fight.

But you may run into a husband sometime
who hasn't my respect for great music.

Where would you be then?

Come on, Sebastian.

I'm going to do something for
you whether you like it or not.

I'm going to insure your hands.

That will give you
complete freedom of action.

It will give me five percent.

Then we'll both be happy.

I'm not going to fight.
- No. I know. I understand.

You're an isolationist.

Isolate yourself over there.

You know, the best part of
the whole thing is that we...

Sit down.

We can write this hand insurance as
a sub-clause to your life insurance.

Life insurance?
What do I want with life insurance?

Have you any dependents or relatives?

Relatives? Phooey.

I'll tell you.

You can leave it to my wife.

She can buy herself a beautiful brooch.

In the shape of a piano
with little diamond keys.

Then every time she pins it on she
will think of poor, dear Sebastian.

Believe me, if anybody should
insure his life it's you.

And right now.

Now then. Where were you born?

I'm not going to fight.

You love my wife, don't you?

Love your wife, Baker?

So that's what you've been driving at.

Now I understand the whole thing.

Really Baker. You should be
a little ashamed of yourself.

A great big...

Insurance man like you.

Who deals so successfully
with human nature.

You should know better than that.

Naturally, I think your wife is
very attractive and very charming.

She likes music.

Is that thing loaded?

Yes.

Now look, Baker.

You can get it out of your mind.

I don't love your wife.

Well, it's going to be a great
day in the musical heaven.

I can just see Beethoven
calling over to Mozart:

'Mozart. Dust off the piano.
Look who's coming. The little genius'.

That's not funny.

This isn't funny either.
I've loved my wife for 6 years.

For 6 years we've been together.

Along comes a guy like you who breaks it
all up because he's nothing else to do.

You're not going to get away with it.

If you had loved my wife
earnestly and sincerely...

And you'd come to me
and told me about it.

That would have
been one of those things.

I'm not old-fashioned.

If you both felt you'd have been happier
without me what can I have done?

Pack my suitcase.

And I wouldn't have to do this.

You know, Baker.

When you pulled out
that revolver, I thought...

He's a conventional citizen.

There's no sense telling
the truth to a man like that.

But now I see the real Baker.

Modern. Up to date.

Baker.

I'm going to open up to you.

Of course I love your wife.

You're sure?
- Positive.

Then I won't have to shoot you.

I don't think it will be necessary.

We have a clean-cut
situation on our hands.

You love my wife. My wife loves you.

Well...
- She does.

I've seen her with my own eyes.

There's only one thing
left for me to do.

[ Telephone ]

Hello?

Hello, Jonesy. I'm still selling.

Did I hit back?
- No.

Good.

You shouldn't have done that, Baker.
- I know. Sorry.

You shouldn't have done it.

I went back into the
old-fashioned Baker.

I probably won't do it again.
- I'm not going to fight.

Hello.

This is Lawrence Baker.
I want to reserve a room for tonight.

I'll be right over.

Thanks.

Baker.

Are you really moving out?

Yes, certainly. I think I should
leave the apartment to her.

You do?

Yes. It's only fair.
Don't you think so?

Yes. I think that seems
to be the best approach.

I'm glad you think so.

No, no. I don't want there
to be any bitterness.

No. Evidently, I'm in a
position to give her security.

To take care of her future.

And why not?

She deserves it. Don't you think so?

Yes, yes. Yes I do.

After all, she's given me
the best years of her life.

Yes. I'll take some
wonderful memories with me.

She's a nice girl, isn't she.

Yes, yes. Very nice.

Of course she has her faults.
- Who hasn't?

That's true. That's true.

Listen, Sebastian. If...
- Hmm?

If you ever run into one of her bad
moods all you have to do is...

No. Perhaps I'd better not tell you.

Come now. Don't act like
a little boy. What is it?

Well.

It's kinda personal.

Come on, come on. What is it?

If you ever should run into one of
her bad moods and you want to...

Snap her right out of it...

There's only one way to do it.

What's that?

Just keeks her.

Keeks her?

How do you do that?

Just.

Keeks.

She likes that?
- She's insane about it.

Thanks, Baker.

Keeks.

Now.

About the cause for divorce.

According to New York state law one of
the parties must have a co-respondent.

There must be a less embarrassing way.
- Not in New York.

You don't have to do it.
I'll get the co-respondent.

No. I wouldn't put you in that position.

That's alright.
- Why should you take the blame?

It's okay. It's quick and painless.

Very white of you, Baker.
- Thanks, Sebastian.

That leaves the property settlement.

'The following agreement has been
reached between Lawrence Baker...'

'Hereinafter referred to as
the party of the first part'.

'And Jill Baker, hereinafter referred
to as the party of the second part'.

'It's understood that the
party of the first part...'

'Transfers title to the apartment
at 685 Park Avenue...'

'To the party of the second part'.

What about the furnishings?
- Yes. What about them?

I didn't understand...

Yes. I want everything transferred to...

To.

The party of the second part.

Can't we take it up later?
- No. Let's get it settled now.

You're entitled to it.
- Look...

He's only trying to be fair.

You're too generous.
- No. Just fair.

That's all.

Well, if there's anything you want...

I don't need anything.

What can I do with it?
- Larry.

In a hotel, where would he put it?

He'd only have to pay storage.
- That's right.

I'd better change this.

What's his name?
- Jones.

I don't trust him.

Well.

Here we are.

Baker versus Baker.
- Sounds awful, doesn't it.

Everything legal does.

Oh. About this co-respondent.

Yes?
- Who will it be?

I don't know.

Anyone in mind?

I have several promising prospects.

You have?
- Uhuh.

Yes. I think we can clear up the
whole matter in a few weeks.

Sounds pretty good.
- Uhuh.

Tell me. It isn't Mary Logan?

Mary Logan as a co-respondent?

I think I can do better than that.

After everything is straightened out I
think I'll take a trip to South America.

Is it one of my friends?

You know I never cared
so much for your friends.

Someone I know?

Darling, this is a divorce.
Not twenty questions.

I'm just curious.

Don't worry. You can rely on me.

I won't disgrace the family name.

Larry.

Do you really want this divorce?

Absolutely. Don't you?

Well...

Don't tell me you don't want it.

That would be a great disappointment.

After all, you are seriously
in love with Sebastian.

Otherwise, you wouldn't have...

We wouldn't be here.

You're too fine a person, Jill, to have
done all this just to fill out your day.

I've always believed
that you were sincere.

I still do.

I'd like to take that memory with me.

I'm sorry if I hurt you.

Maybe you couldn't help it.

Don't worry.
There will be no bitterness.

Funny, isn't it.

For six years you were my husband.

And now, you are the
'party of the first part'.

I used to be your Jill.

And now I am:
'hereinafter referred to...'

Well, everything is taken care of.

What's the matter?

What did you do?
- Nothing. Just went over some details.

I don't trust you, Baker.

Darling, there's nothing to worry about.
It's a very clean-cut agreement.

Alexander, please. I'm so nervous.
Can't you understand?

Of course. We all have our little moods.

Keeks.

Now let us read this again.

The following agreement...
- Is unnecessary.

Unless we agree on a co-respondent.

Not your business.
- It isn't.

Keep quiet. It's my business.

You'll not make me the laughing stock of
the town with a girl I don't even know.

No. You'll not have that
triumph, Mr Baker. Goodbye.

Keeks.

Don't do that, Baker.
- Jill.

Jill.

Jill.

That my dear Mr Jones, is what's known
as protecting your original investment.

Let's get it right.

I think you softened her.
- Softened her?

Destroyed her. She's going to come
back and eat out of my hand.

And what I'm going
to do to Mrs Jill baker.

Hereinafter referred
to as Jill 'lamb' Baker.

If you want a piano
Jones, you've got it.

No.

Am I going to be difficult.

I'm going to be the mad
dog of 685 Park Avenue.

Heil Baker.

Mr Jones.

Yes, Mrs Baker?

About this co-respondent.
What does the law require?

Well, she...

No. In case I have the co-respondent.

Well, you must be found alone
with him in your apartment.

And he with his coat off.

I see.

Alexander.
- Yes, darling?

Are you willing to take
your coat off for me?

Anything you say, darling.

Oh no. No, no.

Oh yes.

You really want to do that?
- I do.

You want to compromise me with that guy?

You seem to forget, Baker, that
she's in love with that guy. Keeks.

You brute.

Alexander.

Alexander.

Alexander.

Snoodgie.

Snoodgie?

Calling that Snoodgie?

Come on, darling.

There you are.

You'll be alright.

Sit down here. There.

For six years I was married to
a brute and didn't know it.

Divorce? Yes. That's the only solution.
- Alright.

Why not go to Reno?
- Yes, Reno.

I don't want to go west.
- Poor darling. How are you?

I'm shaking.

Can you establish residence
in Pennsylvania?

Pennsylvania? That's near Philadelphia.
- In the neighborhood. Yes.

That's not bad.
They've got a good orchestra.

Easy to communicate with New York.
- Very well. Shall we say Pennsylvania?

Alright. Pennsylvania. China.
Anywhere. Only let's get it over with.

Okay. Let's look up Pennsylvania.

Pennsylvania, Pennsylvania. Ah, there.

That's it.

Snoodgie.

You'll get your divorce
if it's the last thing I do.

'Section 10'.

'Innocent spouse may get divorced
provided the other spouse shall have...'

'By cruel and barbarous treatment'.

'Rendered life intolerable and
burdensome to said innocent spouse'.

Sounds promising.

Not difficult for you to be barbarous.
- No. My innocent spouse.

What must I do?

Let's call in a witness.

Let's say, my secretary?

And first you two start a quarrel.
- With pleasure.

And then I'd say, maybe
you would slap her face.

Slap her face? Oh, no.

So, you can hit a man but you
don't dare strike a woman.

You coward you.
- Alright. I'll do it.

Very well.
Let's reverse the whole thing.

Now. Here's the plan.

Miss Aikens, will you come in please?

Right away, Mr Jones.

Now remember.
I start to dictate a letter.

As soon as I snap my fingers
you start the argument.

When you say...

You cheap second-rate insurance peddler.
- Then I hit you.

Now, Baker. Don't let us down.

Miss Aikens. Miss Aikens.

Coming, Mr Jones.
- Sit down please.

Take this.

To Walter K Dovermule.

Capital City Bank & Trust
Company. Columbus, Ohio.

My dear Mr Dovermule.

Now let me see.

So you won't tell me.

I wasn't there.

My mother saw you.

Your mother gives me a pain in the neck.

How dare you say that
about my beloved mother.

Your beloved mother. Poo.

So you won't tell me, huh?

I wasn't there.
- But my mother saw you.

Your mother gives me a pain in the neck.

How dare you say that
about my beloved mother.

Your beloved mother. Poo.
- Who are you to poo my mother?

Your mother. You know what
your mother reminds me of?

Stop, stop.

Just a minute. Miss Aikens.

I didn't tell you to leave.
- Yes. For heaven's sake, Miss Aikens.

Sit down.

Now read that back to me.

'Mr Walter K Dovermule'.

'Capital City Bank & Trust
Company. Columbus, Ohio'.

'My dear Mr Dovermule'.

You don't like my mother?
- I don't like your whole family.

You don't?
- No.

I dislike your father and brother.
Know who your mother reminds me of?

Who?
Of you.

That's what I think of your mother.

You cheap, second-rate
insurance peddler.

You cheap, second-rate
insurance peddler.

Come on.

She called you a cheap,
second-rate insurance peddler.

Yes.

Now look, man.
Her whole happiness is at stake.

One good sock.

Here. Have another Cognac.

Now give it everything.

Read it back to me.

Walter K Dovermule. Capital City
Bank & Trust Company, Columbus Ohio.

My dear Mr Dovermule...
- Yes. My dear Mr Dover...

Everything I said about
your mother still goes.

And double.
- It does?

Yes it does.

Well, I still say you're a cheap,
second-rate insurance peddler.

Oh.

So, I'm a cheap, second-rate
insurance peddler, am I?

Yes. You are.

Say it again.

You cheap, second-rate
insurance peddler.

Phooey.

Come on, Baker. Pull yourself together.
You can do it. A swell guy like you.

Read it back to me.

Walter K Dovermule. Capital City
Bank & Trust Company. Columbus, Ohio.

My dear Mr Dovermule...

Did you see that, Miss Aikens?

A husband slapping his wife.
- Yes. Did you see it?

Mrs Baker. I'm very sorry
this happened in my office.

So am I.

Imagine that.
A husband hitting his wife.

He had to get drunk to do it.

Goodbye, Mr Jones.

Goodbye, Mrs Baker.

What about Walter K Dovermule?
- Tell him I am out.

Thank you, sir.

[ Buzzer]

Come in.

Hello Albert.

Good morning, sir.

I hope you'll forgive me
disturbing you on a Sunday.

It's alright.

Have a late night, sir?

Yes. I've had a series of late nights.
I'm not as young as I used to be.

I think you look very fit, sir.
- Thanks, Albert.

How is everything going?
- Not so well, sir.

I came to ask if in your future
plans you have any use for me?

Have you left Mrs Baker?

Yes, sir. I had to.

On account of that... musical gentleman.

Oh.

In fact we all left except Emma.

She's fortunate. She's quite deaf.

How is Mrs Baker?

As charming as ever, sir.

Happy, I suppose?

If you will pardon me for saying so,
I think she shows great courage.

Hello.

Hello.

Where's Mrs Baker?

Jill, dear.
- Margie, darling.

I got such a thrill when you called.

Why shouldn't I? Old friends
like us. Sit down, Margie.

How are you, dear?
- Oh I am fine.

I hear you're going to Philadelphia.

Did you meet Alexander?
- Yes.

But I couldn't bother him.
- He's practises for his new concert.

I understand.

Does it disturb you?
- No, no. I love music.

Yes, I'm going to Philadelphia.
- And you are happy?

Oh yes. Very.

Of course I'm still a little
bewildered. It's all so new.

Yes. It's all very exciting.
- Yes. Very exciting.

Being transferred from the business
world into the world of art.

Nothing but Bach and Tchaikovsky.

That is Bach he's practising now.

You're sure it doesn't disturb you?
- No, no. I love it.

You needn't be ashamed. Not everyone
likes Bach. If you want him to stop...

My dear, I wouldn't think of it.
The whole thing sounds so very romantic.

Yes. Very romantic.

By the way, have you seen Larry?

Yes. I saw him last night
at the Monte Carlo.

Larry at the Monte Carlo?
- Yes.

Just imagine.

Just a moment.

[ Music stops ]

Please forgive me.
- Of course.

Now, what were we talking about?

So, you don't like my music, eh?
- Alexander.

I make nothing but a lot of noise.

Alright.

Isn't he original.

Oh very.

I hope you don't mind.
- No. Not at all.

I love to make him angry.
He turns into a big grizzly bear.

It must be fascinating.
- Yes.

Jill.

The bear.

What is it?
- Jill.

There will be no more music here today.

Oh no?
- No. And don't coax me.

Shush.
- And don't shush me.

As a matter of fact there will be
no more Sebastian here today.

At least not for lunch.

And dinner is very uncertain.

If that's the way you feel about it.
- It is.

Jill, I can be very impossible.

Goodbye.

What fun. I only hope poor
Larry has as good a time as I.

When I saw him at the Monte Carlo...

Yes. I suppose it was another one
of those dull business evenings.

Was it a large party?

No. I'd say she was about your size.

Oh.

Was she attractive?
- No. I didn't think so.

But George and Freddy
thought she was terrific.

But you know George and Freddy.

But what do you care?
- That's right.

What do I care?
Larry is entitled to a little fun.

If that's the kind of life he likes.

[ Telephone ]

Hello?

Hello, Sally darling.

I feel pretty good considering.
What about you?

Uhuh.

That's right.

Huh?

No. I'm sure you took it with you
when you left for the Monte Carlo.

Wait a minute.

Hello. Yes it is.

Alright.

Goodbye.

[ Door knocks ]

Hello.

Are you going to throw me out?

Jill, you shouldn't have come up here.

It's rather embarrassing.

Well, I'm just passing by.

But after all, if Sebastian finds out...
- Don't worry about that.

But I do.

A girl engaged to be married.

Coming to a bachelor's apartment.

And unannounced.

Just a moment.

Well.

I seem to be intruding.

Jill. What do you want to see me about?

Is someone here?
- What do you want, Jill?

Well, I was driving by...

Right on the 31st Floor?

Well, you said you wanted some
kind of remembrance and...

I'm on my way to Cynthia Knox's
tea and I had to pass by so...

I've picked up a few things.

Some snapshots of us taken together.

I thought you may be interested.
- Thank you.

Aren't you going to look at them?
- Oh, yes.

That's the first time we met.
Here's one of you sitting in my lap.

Our wedding. Our honeymoon.
That's very nice. Thanks.

Anything else?

I heard you were at the
Monte Carlo last night.

Yes.

Sleepy?

Yes.

Give my regards to Cynthia Knox.

Who?

You were on your way
to Cynthia Knox's tea.

Yes. Yes.

I like your apartment, Larry.

It's lovely.

Charming. Yes.

Very, very charming.

In such good taste.

Pretty.

So cozy.

Lovely curtains.

And such a beautiful view.

Yes. Such a beautiful view.

I'm sorry.

That was rather foolish.

Please forgive me.

Larry, I did make quite
a mess of things.

Everything turns out for the best.

You can't mean that, Larry.
- I can and I do.

Larry. Please don't make
me go to Philadelphia.

Please don't.

Madam has changed her mind.

She gets a little tired of marriage
and she walks out just like that.

Does she care if she makes a fool of her
husband or how much she hurts him?

Then she gets tired of piano music
and she comes back and says...

It was just a little whim of mine so
please trot back to the old homestead.

You break up a whole life. And think you
can put it back together in a half day.

Oh no. It's not that easy.

I didn't expect it to be easy.

To tell you what I think of you would
take more than just one afternoon.

How about dinner?

Dinner?

Couldn't we just have
dinner together tonight?

I'm sorry. I'm engaged for dinner.

Oh. That girl?

Yes. That girl. I don't like your tone.

I'm sorry.

First you try to mess up my life and now
you want to spoil that girl's Sunday.

Sally doesn't get every day off
you know. Sally works hard.

Oh, she does?

And what's wrong with that?

Nothing.

She doesn't have everything
dumped in her lap like you.

She hasn't time to go
to crazy art galleries.

To play around with second-rate
musicians and go to psychoanalysts.

She hasn't a husband to
pay for her complexes.

Sally is a mighty fine girl.
Much finer than your Mr Sebastian.

She doesn't wear your shirts either.

Did she take one?
- Skip it.

Here.

You promised to love, honor and obey.

And here.

That's the first time we met.

That's an awful picture of me.
- But you were a fine girl.

I didn't bore you with
my insurance then.

You listened to everything. You wanted
to know everything about me and my work.

You wanted to help.
- Larry.

And here.

I remember everything you said to me.

I'd love to say it again Larry if you
would only give me the chance.

Just to forget it again?
- No, Larry. Never again.

I swear.

There's no use pretending.

I'm defeated.

Gee.

I always remember that tree
in front of our hotel window.

That funny Italian waiter.

Not here.
- Yes.

No it wasn't.

No. Here.

That's right.

That's that front porch.

Our first breakfast.
- Yes.

Larry. Couldn't we have dinner together?

Not tonight.
- Why not?

Sally.

Let me talk to her.
- Oh no.

Woman to woman. She'll understand.
- No, no.

Please, Larry.

Well.

I'll see what I can do.
- Thank you, darling.

You stay right here.

It's going to be very tough.

'Sally Aikens'.

Aikens?

That girl.

[ Larry howling ]

[ Larry howling ]

Keeks.

How do you do, Miss Aikens.

Hello, Mrs Baker.

Nice to see you.

Mr Baker would have loved to have
seen you but unfortunately he's busy.

He asked me to give you your handbag.

Oh yes. I forgot it.

I was doing some secretarial
work for Mr Baker.

Oh? Secretaries work on Saturday nights?

Well.

I'm a Notary Public too.
- I see.

And you brought your seal?
- Oh yes.

A trained seal?

Goodbye, Miss Aikens.

Goodbye... Mrs Baker.

[ Howling ]

Sweet.

Sweet.

It looks hopeless.

Tut, tut, tut.

It's much more serious than I thought.

That girl is really in love with me.
She adores me.

I don't blame her.
- She says she can't live without me.

And I believe her.
- And I do too.

It's understandable.

You're very wonderful.

Oh yes. Yes, you are.

How about dinner?

But you know I can't.
- How about after dinner?

You want a suicide on your conscience?
- Oh no.

No. Not that.
- There you are.

You're right. It's hopeless.

It's too bad, Jill.

Everything could have been so marvelous.

There's no reason we couldn't
really have been happy.

Yes. But it's too late now.

It looks like the end.

Goodbye, Larry. And good luck.

Good luck.

I'll talk to her again.

[ Doorbell ]

Is Mrs Baker home?
- Yes.

Never mind.

Guess who's back.

It is Fulton. The God of Gods.

Coming back to earth.

A little bit softer please.

Phooey.

..f-s..