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All right, girls, attention, please.

Here we go. One, two...

♪ The landlord fill the flowing bowl

♪ Until it doth run over

♪ The landlord fill the flowing bowl

♪ Until it doth run over

♪ For tonight we'll merry, merry be

♪ For tonight we'll merry, merry be

♪ Tomorrow we'll be sober

♪ For tonight we'll merry, merry be

♪ For tonight we'll merry, merry be

♪ For tonight we'll merry, merry be

♪ Someday we'll be sober

♪ The little girl who gets us a kiss

♪ And runs to tell her mother

♪ The little girl who gets us a kiss

♪ And runs to tell her mother

♪ Does a very foolish thing

♪ Does a very foolish thing

♪ Does a very foolish thing

♪ And never get another

♪ The little boy who gets us a kiss

♪ And runs to tell his brother

♪ The little boy who gets us a kiss

♪ And runs to tell his brother

♪ Does a very, very good thing

♪ Does a very, very good thing

♪ Does a very, very good thing

♪ And brother gets another

♪ For tonight we'll merry, merry be

♪ For tonight we'll merry, merry be

♪ For tonight we'll merry, merry be

♪ Tomorrow we'll be sober

♪ We'll build a bungalow

♪ Big enough for two

♪ It'll be big enough for two, my honey

♪ Big enough for two

♪ For when we marry, happy will we be

♪ Sit down under the bamboo tree

♪ If you'll be M-I-N-E, mine

♪ I'll be T-H-I-N-E, thine

♪ And I'll L-O-V-E, love

♪ You all the T-I-M-E, time

♪ You are the B-E-S-T, best

♪ Of all the R-E-S-T, rest

♪ I'll L-O-V-E, love

♪ You all the time

♪ Just like a W-A-L-K, walk

♪ Up in the P-A-R-K, park

♪ I will kiss, kiss, kiss

♪ You in the D-A-R-K, dark

♪ It takes a K-I-S-S, kiss

♪ To make an M-I-S-S, miss

♪ And I'll love, love, love
you all the T-I-M-E, time ♪

And we the class of '33 go forth.

In time of economic crisis.

A time that asks the women of America

to play a role in every
sphere of the nation's life.

This we have prepared ourselves to do.

In the arts, in the sciences,

in industry, and in the making of our laws.

In politics,

we believe that all shades of
opinion are entitled to a hearing.

And we believe,

as we take up our separate roles,

that it is only in achieving the
highest personal fulfillment,

the goal of our education,

that each will make the greatest
contribution to our emergent America.

♪ Tune all your voices

♪ And instruments play

♪ To celebrate, to celebrate

♪ Our triumphant way

Everybody, everybody, listen to me.

♪ We'll build a bungalow
big enough for two... ♪

Listen, Mother.

Hail, '33, your class correspondent,

Helena Davison signing in.

Send all tidbits, gossip welcome.

Hot off the griddle. Kay Strong,
the first to be married to Harald,

with an "A," Peterson, a
budding genius of the theater.

The day, June 10th, the place, St.
Mark's Church,

St. Mark's Place, New York.

Really, Helena.

Invitations orally by the
bride, no parents present.

Most unconventional.

Harald Peterson.

Who'd a thunk it?

A church wedding, hah?

Kay, the scoffer and atheist.

She would.

She'll introduce him as a Yale man.

He only did a little graduate work in drama.

Typical of Kay, used to drive us wild.

But Kay's a darling.

Mother, Kay has been living
with Harald for a year.

Weekends in New York, even flaunting it.

Libby, we've got to get organized.

Wedding presents first.

Individual or one from all of us?

No, one from all of us.
So much cheaper that way.

What about a reception?
Has Kay decided anything?

She's been angling like mad
for Pokey's townhouse.

Very posh, she'll love that.

Or next best, Long Island, the Prisses.

Much as I'd love to do it for Kay, Priss,

your own wedding so soon now is all
a poor widow woman can manage.

Mother!

What's the problem? Have them come up here.
How many? Twenty?

I've cooked for 50 in my time.

With a staff of ten, Henry.

That's sweet of you, Father, but

it's too far, Harald has to be
back at the theater that evening.

No honeymoon?

Who thinks of honeymoons these days, Mother?

Especially if you've already had it.

Since there's only two days left and
Kay hasn't decided anything yet.

And we know that she can't
afford it, then Mother and I...

Hold it, dear, she has.

She just called, a wedding breakfast.

She and Harald are throwing it.

It's so much nicer that way.

Really, Dottie, so much nicer.

Who are they?

The groom's team.

Who's the good-looker?

Harald's painter friend.

The neighbor?

And Kay's, dear, on weekends.

Where is the breakfast?

Brevoort.

Charming old hotel.

So much more appropriate,
don't you think, Libby?

What?

Kay giving the breakfast.

City Hall would have been more
appropriate too, I think.

Instead of trying to carry off a
wedding in Peter Stuyvesant's church.

Harald not to the manor born, exactly.

Doesn't she know a black hat
is bad luck for weddings?

Dearly beloved, we are gathered
together here in the sight of God...

My God! Harald in brown suede shoes.

Shut up.

Into this holy estate,

these two persons present
come now to be joined.

If any man can show just cause

why they may not be
lawfully joined together,

let him now speak or else
hereafter forever hold his peace.

Katherine Leslie, wilt thou have
this man for thy wedded husband,

to live together after God's ordinance

in the holy estate of matrimony,

so long as you both shall live?

I will.

Hey, Kay, we're going with you.

Goodbye, everybody!

I still think that we should have
done something about the reception.

No, I don't agree.

There's certainly no need to
encourage Kay's pretensions.

How hard you can be, Lakey.

Yet Kay adores you.

And you used to like her best
in your heart of hearts.

You might spare me a cliche
like "heart of hearts," Dottie.

Let me off here, please.

Lakey, aren't you coming?

Go ahead.

A toast to the bride and groom.

- Down the hatch.
- Down the hatch.

Where's Lakey?

She was feeling awful.

Terrible cramps. She had to
go to the hotel and lie down.

Is that true, Libby? True?

Why, Kay.

There's a little drugstore on
the corner of 59th Street.

All the prescription whiskey you want.

Say, this Italian showed
me how to make anisette.

You take water, straight alcohol

and oil of anise. That gives it
the milky color like in Pernod.

Boy!

Kay, where did you get this man?

I know Harald way back when,

high school in Boise.

Isn't Kay a honey?

How come her parents didn't show?

Well, I believe they sent a check
rather than make the trip, you know.

You're a friend of Harald's, aren't you?

Yes...

Since the fall of the
dollar, we occupied some

furnished rooms together.

Or perhaps you knew that.

An inelegant arrangement. The john, as
you girls call it, is down the hall.

And in the closet is an electric grill.

And hence you must excuse me if I
smell like a ham and egg sandwich.

And all of a sudden
she flies out of the cab.

Well, heaven knows why she
sounded terribly off Kay.

Well, Lakey is her own law.

I must get the recipe for this.

Pity a brilliant fellow like
Harald is stage managing

instead of writing his plays.

But in a depression, anybody
is lucky to have a job.

I'm with Russeks myself.

Stylist.

You girls won't have to
scramble to jobs, I imagine.

Still, we'll all be pitching in. Yes.

You for instance? Teaching nursery school.

Nice.

This stuff is very treacherous. Yeah.

Makes you quarrelsome, they say.

I doubt that.

Applejack's the purest thing
you can drink, you know.

It's a natural product.

Chemistry major.

You paint, I believe.

I try. And you?

I'll be in Settlement House work in Boston.

Dottie, can I get you anything?

No. All right.

Kay is a very vital person, don't you think?

Not my type however. I don't like
girls with a low center of gravity.

I prefer the boyish figure myself.

A narrow waist and tapering legs.

Thin women are more sensuous.

Scientific fact, the nerve ends
are closer to the surface.

Lakey! Lakey, I'm so glad you're here.
You all right?

Just fine. Why? Why?

You were at death's door in the taxi.

Well, I was never better.

So, she is Lakey.

Well, there's the little charmer herself.
Come on, you're three drinks behind.

Kay...

Not the Settlement House type.

Dear no.

Art history.

She sails tomorrow for France, to study.

Food, everybody.

Baked Alaska!

Girls, look at it.

Childhood dreams come true, Kay.

It's every children's party in
the whole blessed United States.

It's Mount Whitney. It's Fujiyama.

Libby writes, I imagine.

She's practically set with the publisher.

Hold it, hold it. To Harald's first play.

Consider it as good as written.

To Kay.

Directing Harald's first play.

There'll be a slight delay, girls.

I'm starting at Macy's in the fall.

Merchandising techniques.

Harald and I both decided that I...

No, no, no, no, the little
woman decided first.

She wants to get Harald on his way.

Great idea.

They freeze the ice cream hard as a rock

and then whoosh into the oven.

Between you and me, it's not
like mama used to make.

Well, working conditions in some of our
hotels are way sub-standard, you know.

Come again, dear.

Economics major, Emma, it runs in her blood.

Grandpa was reform mayor of New York.

What in God's name does one
do with economics, honey?

Consumer Division.

Hang on, Roosevelt, here comes Priss.

To Priss, our only little Phi Beta Kappa.

That's how I got through.

To Priss's marriage. She's next.

The lucky fellow. A left-winger, no doubt.

Wrong, Emma. A Rhode Island Crockett.

Why not a left-winger if it comes to that?

Nobody here is afraid of
being a little radical.

I mean who wants to marry a broker or
banker... Marry a broker or banker

or coldfish corporation lawyer, right?

Helping Roosevelt too, honey.

A Prothero?

Poke's gonna be a vet. She
has her own stable you know.

Commuting to Cornell's is
gonna be a frightful bore.

My daddy gave her a plane for that.

A little ol' two-seater.

To the class of '33.

Although as a privileged
class, the upper middle,

it's finished politically
and economically. What?

Well, one day, one day
after a brief struggle,

capital will blend with government.

Individual ownership will be obsolete.

Not so obsolete, Karl Marx.

All shades of opinion

are entitled to a hearing. Right?

Hey, Harald, don't you have to go to work?

No, no matinee today, Dave.
We have all afternoon.

You two are supposed to go away.

Yeah. Where should we go?

Yeah, where should we go, Poke?

Coney Island.

Coney Island?

Coney Island!

Coney Island!

♪ We love you all the T-I-M-E, time

♪ You are the B-E-S-T, best,
of all the R-E-S-T, rest ♪

Lakey, you stopped to buy rice.

Come on.

Goodbye.

Who'd a thunk it?

Thunk what?

Well, I mean, we never
thought she'd get him.

For heaven's sakes.

Forget it.

Come, Poke, Harald's
terribly in love with her.

In his histrionic way. But
you know, girls, it is true.

When she hinted about marriage, we all
thought it as pretty much of a myth.

And suddenly a wedding. In a God awful rush.

There could be one reason, of course.

Well, maybe she is.

That's ridiculous. Kay
knew all about what to do.

To hear her tell it.

All right, girls.

Let's get our minds off our plumbing.

Plumbing?

Helena.

You staying to see Lakey off, Polly?

I'm in town for good.

I start at the hospital, Monday.

That's wonderful. Monday, no vacation?

It may surprise you, Poke, but not everybody
is lolling at Newport this summer.

Lolling?

Flying lessons all summer.

How tragic.

You found a place yet, Polly?

A nice room and bath in the Village.

Village. That's so Bohemian, dear.

That's so cheap, dear.

Right.

Hey, how about a farewell
party for Lakey tonight.

I'll treat.

Swell!

Where did she and Dottie go, I wonder.

Off in a cab with Mr. Brown, last I saw.

Our art historian is not impressed.

Hello.

Kay, how was it?

Coney Island? Or when we got back?

Is everybody there?

Poke and Priss had to go home.

And as for Polly, Phil came
into town unexpectedly.

Phil? I thought that was
supposed to be finished.

How about Lakey and Dottie?

They haven't come back yet. From where?

From wherever they went from the Brevoort.

Well, let's just say, Mr. Brown,

that I have a blind spot where
modern painting is concerned.

We used to play a game at school.

When in history would you
like most to have lived?

In the Renaissance was
always Lakey's choice.

Yes?

And what did you choose?

I never could decide.

And our friend, Kay?

The year 2000 A.D., of course.

Looking ahead. Another way to say ambitious.

There was another game that
Kay insisted on playing.

The truth game.

Everyone was to make a list of their
friends in order of preference and then

compare the lists.

What Kay never stopped to think about,

was that somebody always had to
be at the bottom of every list.

When that somebody cried,
Kay was honestly surprised.

She must have landed at the
bottom more often than not.

No, that's where you're wrong, Mr. Brown.

The others were too tactful
ever to put her there.

Because the truth is, she was
a bit of an outsider, really.

And no one ever wanted her to feel that.

We have to go, really, I have to pack.

Girls, to all of you.

All ashore that's going ashore.

All ashore that's going ashore.

Phil, let's go on a boat someday.

We'll see what we can do.

Polly with Phil, would you believe it?

Hey, what's the matter?

Hey, Harald. Hey, Dick!

How are you? Bit late, old boy.

Too bad, I had some names for her.
Painters she wanted to meet in Paris.

You could send them to her. Bye, bye.

Be sure to send shoes.

They... Yes, they are size 38.

I could be consoled.

Let's you and I have dinner
tonight, for old time's sake.

Same place. By 8:00.

Helena, you've just got
to stay till tomorrow.

Look, Harald got passes for tonight.

They're papering the house
till the show catches on.

Heaven help the Petersons if
it doesn't last the summer.

Look, when does nursery school open?
Next week.

Then what's the rush?

Wednesday...

Yes, that'll be fine. Thank
you very much. Goodbye.

It's set. Mr. Wharton himself.

That's wonderful. I'm mad to get started.

Now, look for one thing.

Harald says whatever job they
think of starting you at

make sure you tell them you need the work.

This New Weston address isn't
exactly a help you know.

Well, it just so happens I am
on the trail of something,

a snazzy little place.

With a snazzy little address I bet.

You all right, Dottie?

Missing Lakey, no doubt.

That was a laugh, Brown coming to the boat.

Fascinating man. That
restless chiseled face.

Under that virile mask, as Harald calls it,

Dick's a warped personality, really.

I've gotta dash. I'm due at typing.

Typing? That's right.

Harald says it's important
in a technological society

to have a tool the other
trainees haven't got.

Dottie, you'll be with us later?

I may not, Kay.

May not?

I was thinking of going home today.

I was always being shipped off to
Arizona for a nasty little cough.

It kept me out of school quite a lot.

That's why I'm the oldest
of us, actually. I'm 23.

I'm the old maid of the group.

Are you sure?

No, thank you, really.

I'm afraid I'm boring you.

Not at all, I am very grateful

for female companionship tonight.

Even me?

If it can't be Lakey, that is.

She is very striking.

Despite what she said it was Lakey
who brought Kay into the group.

And now a tinge of sex envy.

In all of you perhaps. All of you vicariously
thrilled by Kay's little weekends.

But secretly violated
in your nice little souls.

I wouldn't say that.

Well, certainly speaking for myself.

In fact, Mother and I,

she's awfully youthful and
modern in her point of view.

We agree...

that...

if you're in love or engaged,

perhaps you ought to...

Well... That is...

Like Harald and Kay, for example,

to make sure of a happy adjustment.

I see.

Well, I am religious.

But more pantheistic than anything else.

I love the church for its ritual,

but I believe that God is everywhere.

Even in my poor little room?

Pardon?

Do you want to come home with me tonight?

The smell of cooking fat is permanent.

Tenanted once by a friend of yours.

You don't see them anymore.

Skylights.

And a north window. It's
perfect for your work.

Modern design, the skyscraper concept.

It has destroyed so many wonderful things.

Shall we discuss modern architecture?

It's like talking about current events.

Or anything at the dentist.

To delay the drill.

That turned out rather funny, didn't it?

Hello, Boston.

Congratulations.

Dick.

You know the books
Krafft-Ebing and the others.

They're not very explicit, really.

Kay was.

Though she wasn't very happy at first.

I think... I think it's like dancing.

It's a matter of following.

Kay was a terrible dancer.

Do you think that could be it?

Could very well be.

Dick.

Am I?

There's nothing to be
concerned about, Boston.

But for general reference,

it's the second door on your right.

Who'd a thunk it?

Could you send someone
up for the bags, please?

No. Miss Renfrew will be staying.

I'd like to leave a message for her.

Could you tell her that her mother
called twice. Tell her it's urgent.

Thank you.

You sure you don't want the news section?

Rather rude.

Evidently.

I mustn't keep you from your work.

Boston.

My poor little room is always yours.

But, the right lady doctor
could make us a lot happier.

You might ask your friend Kay.

I liked you last night, Boston.

But don't harbor the idea that
I'm going to like it more.

All right.

I want a man's life.

A bar.

Men's talk that's never driving
to get anywhere but just circles.

Give me a call after
you've been to the doctor.

All right.

Boston.

Aren't you going to take the phone number?

2-3-6-8.

It's the landlady's phone.
I'll get the message.

Okay.

Boston. Goodbye.

And remember.

- Hello, Dottie.
- Hello, Mother.

I'm awfully sorry. Helena left a
message saying that you called.

I would have called you but I was at Kay's.

Last night we just talked
and talked and talked.

I was just wondering when
you might be coming back.

Well, I'd like to stay this trip.

And New York is so exciting and I...

I've been exploring.

The...

Brooklyn Bridge and Murray Hill and,

I'd like to see Kay and Polly,

for another thing. You don't mind, Mother?

No. Of course not, darling.

Have a good time.

Yes, I'll try.

I'll call you again tomorrow, all right?

Goodbye, dear. Goodbye.

Dottie! I thought you were in Boston.

Well, I guess not.

Or did you just come back?

No.

I had so many things to do the last minute.

Come in, Dottie. I'll be right with you.

Kay. For you.

How nice, Dottie. Thank you.

Boy, can this place use them!

We just have to get out of this
horrible sublet. Please sit down.

You just missed Harald
by five minutes. Kay...

Kay. Please.

I have come to tell you something.

Well, I...

I've taken Dick Brown

as my lover.

You haven't!

Yes, I have. Last night.

Dottie. It's not true.

"And please leave this room as
you would expect to find it."

"Thank you for your cooperation."

Dottie, you knew about Dick Brown.

What Harald said about him.

And you knew it was Lakey he was after!

I faced that.

You faced that?

Dottie, you let him use you.

Well, perhaps I used him.

It is about time, don't you think?

The point is, I have
come to ask your advice.

It's a bit late for that, isn't it?

No, I meant about these.

There are so many possibilities.

And Dick was sure that you'd know.

Dottie, where did you get those?

From the Margaret Sanger Clinic, for one.

They gave me the name of a lady doctor.

Her clinic was raided for just this
sort of thing about a year ago.

Imagine. I have an appointment tomorrow.

Sit down, Kay.

I don't know anything about those.

You don't?

Well...

You must come with me.

I should have gone last year but I wouldn't
have the nerve until I was married.

Dottie, what name did you give?

What?

I mean, in whose name did
you make the appointment?

Well, you didn't...

You couldn't.

Dorothy Renfrew, please.

Hello, Dorothy.

How do you do, Doctor?

A few questions, Dorothy. Simple, natural
ones that needn't embarrass you.

All right, Dorothy.

Have you ever had... Once.

And may I ask was everything...

Perfect.

End of questions. Everything's quite simple.

Go into the bathroom
and take off your things.

Thank you very much.

Dottie, you aren't leaving?

I really must, dear. Ta-ta.

Mrs. Peterson, please.

He's not in.

Well, would you tell him that Miss Renfrew
called, please. That's Miss Renfrew.

And I'll call back. And,

if he should come in,
would you tell him, that

I'm, I'm in Washington Square

in the park, on a bench.

Would you tell him that, please?

I'll tell him. Thank you.

And went out again? Well, when was that?

About ten minutes ago.

You did tell him? Yeah.

Renfrew, Washington Square.

Mr. Leroy, how nice.

Miss MacAusland. Well, sit down.

Sorry, Mr. Wharton is unavailable.

Well, another time, I hope.

Yes, well, meanwhile,
he's asked me, one of his

not un-respected editors
to see what I can do.

Let's see, copy editing, proof reading,

editor of the literary magazine,

short story courses, very impressive.

Where to try you out is the problem.

Well, I did spy an empty cubbyhole in the
editorial department on my way through.

You did? Well, actually,

as means of getting acquainted,

I had in mind giving you
some manuscripts to read.

Now,

we pay five dollars a piece
for reading the manuscript,

and writing a summary and an opinion.

I wonder, you need the
work, Miss MacAusland?

Yes, I do.

Well, you should be able to
do three or four a week.

You see, you needn't read them all through.

Most publishers' readers just smell them.

My dear Mr. Leroy. I don't mind.

And I'd like to scotch the legend that
manuscripts aren't read by publishers.

You'll be able to swear on
the book that these were.

And you can't object if I do
it on my own time. Can you?

I knew there'd be plants. The
green thumb of the Andrews.

Why, it's cute, Polly.

The kitchen's a dream.

I'm making us some tea.

I can't, Polly. I haven't got time.

Some cake?

Please. It's a recipe of Father's.

All right. I've got time for that.
All right.

Polly, what have you done with your hair?

It's neater for the hospital this way.

Makes you look much older.

Well...

Wasn't it awfully sudden
Dottie going off to Arizona?

Libby told you.

Well, I told her, of course.

What Libby doesn't know,

it wasn't exactly for her health this time.

You remember Brown?

Well, poor Dottie, of all people.

It was something pretty
shattering, I gathered.

No.

Excuse me.

Hello, Mr. Schneider. Won't you come in?

No, thank you.

A little present.

Marzipan. How nice!

Kay, this is Mr. Schneider.

Hello.

Delighted.

Are you sure you won't join us?

This evening. This evening, maybe.

Yeah? All right. Thank you.

Thank you so much. You're welcome.

It's in the shape of fruit.

Look, strawberry.

Who was that?

It's my neighbor.

He's a lovely man. I help
him with his English.

In return, he's helping me find a husband.

Why not tell him about Phil?
That should end that.

Polly. You can't let this
engagement go on forever.

You, you can't make up your mind.
That's the trouble.

Because you know it isn't right.

Your father, wonderful as he is,

in and out of clinics with melancholia.

He's enough liability in a marriage

without adding insanity
in Phil's background too.

All right, if you love Phil, live with him.

Marry someone else when you
want to have children.

I couldn't do that.

Well, then, for heaven's
sakes, break it off!

Polly, you all right?

I have to go. I'll, call you tomorrow, okay.

Miles of cubbyholes, an absolute factory.

Hi, ready? One second, Libby.

Our leader, big as life.

What did Sloan say to all this?

Running battle.

At home, I'm surrounded by Republicans.

Come on, Priss. Leave
those dreary statistics.

I've only got time for a sandwich actually.

Suits me.

Masses of new work I'm dying to light into.

Well, what do you think of it? Black calf.

Mark Cross. Snazzy? Very.

How's it going? I'm a house on fire.

Mr. Leroy is quite impressed.

And I'm impressed with Mr. Leroy.

If he's not single, I'll kill myself.

You've heard about Polly, I suppose.
Heard what?

Kay let her have it about Phil.

Amazing how Kay can take a love affair

and return it shrunk and
labeled like the laundry.

I got a card from Dottie.
Desert sunset. Did you?

Yes. She sounds fine. Let's go.

What do you hear from Pokey?

Flying. I wonder who's picking up after her,

if you're not around.

I've noticed, Mother, since school ended,

Helena looks definitely peaked.

Not from hard work, Daddy.

She needs a change.

We might have all gone to
England, if I didn't need to

keep an eye on the steel market.

But, Helena should go,

perhaps join up with Lakey for the summer.

You're not serious, Daddy.

You know I'm all signed up
for the nursery school.

That can wait.

All dang-fool nonsense, anyway.

With all your education, why you want to

play piano and teach finger painting to a

bunch of Yid's kids.

From what I've heard... Now, Daddy.

Helena agrees, I'm sure.

It's here.

Polly.

You have a nice summer, you hear?

Okay. Goodbye, Helena.

Write to me. I will.

Good luck on the job.

Thank you.

Goodbye, Helena.

Listen now, you keep the class notes for me.
You know everything.

I will.

Priss.

Have a wonderful time.

Happy wedding to you and
Sloan if I'm not back.

Happy everything. Thank you.

Off to Europe meekly with
her tail between her legs.

The steel tycoon doesn't fancy
nursery school for his only child.

The trip is a bribe.

Driver, let me out near Macy's, please.

I got a call. They may start
me earlier than I thought.

Well, Libby, you pay the fare.

You're the only one with money in the crowd.

Your best quality in beige, please.

Size seven and a quarter.

Libby, you snoop.

It took me hours to find you.

I thought it was glassware.

We're shifted around, Libby, to
learn every aspect of selling.

How exciting!

Come on, please, Libby, go away,

they watch trainees like hawks.

Size seven and a quarter in beige. Please.

Now, cut it out!

Seriously, I haven't got a thing
to wear to Priss's wedding.

Who has?

Let's not be all day, miss.

Shut up, madam.

♪ Joyously open your hearts

♪ We greet this day

♪ Joyously open your hearts

♪ We greet this day

What a splash!

Lovely house. I wouldn't
mind something like this.

Polly, I saw a marvelous apartment.

Of course, it's not cheap exactly, I'll
have to break it to Harald gently.

Polly, what's the matter?

Nothing. I'm just very happy for Priss.

Look, I know it's none of my business...

It's all over with Phil, Kay.

I wrote him.

Very upper crusty in there.

Doctor Sloan Crockett's nobody's fool.

What social connections for a practice.

You might like Priss a little, Libby.

Naturally. I didn't mean to imply that...

Hi! What a shindig.

How's Cornell, Pokey?

Cute boys. The vet course, silly.

Without Priss to pull you through, That!

Poke, what are you gonna do? Flunk.

Girls! Girls, listen to this.

This is from Vienna.

"Best wishes, dear Priss, with all our love."

"Lakey and Helena."

Isn't that nice?

But there's another one.
There's another one.

"Dearest thoughts on this day."

"My prayers for your happiness.
Love, Dottie."

Dottie, prayers. She means it.

Where's my girl?

Little Priss.

Who'd a thunk it?

Imagine little Priss, tonight.

There's so little of you, Priss.

Too little for both Roosevelt and me.

Now, look, all the walls should be white

with really bright colors against them.

And we'll have a folding
table in the dinette

and separated from the kitchen

with one of those slatted folding doors.

Look, the latest model stove and icebox.

Say something.

How much?

$102 and 50 cents a month.

Including gas and electricity.

Harald, look, between us,
we make $400 a month.

This is one-fourth of our income for rent.

With my discount at the store,

we can furnish it for nothing a month.

And we've got years to pay, Harald,
we're not even gonna miss it.

Harald!

Wait till you see the bedroom.

We got the hugest walk-in closet

with room to make the darlingest
little dressing room.

Look.

Hold your hat, Libby.
We signed the lease today.

Swell!

We could be in, in November

but that depends on upholstery.

But the furniture's all picked.

It's blond Swedish.

And a terrific material for the couch,

a sort of a strawberry
red, you've got to see.

I can't wait.

Libby, there's no drapery problem,

we've got Venetian blinds.

It's a tremendous saving, really.

Phone, Mrs. Peterson.

Yes?

Take your time about dinner tonight, love.

Harald, what do you mean?

Harald's joined the unemployed.

The show's closing.

No, Harald was fired.

Fired?

Yeah, so don't rush, love.

Kay, the contracts.
Upholstery and furniture.

If you sign now, we'll be able
to start work immediately.

I'm just going to look them
over again, Helen, thank you.

Good evening, my dear.

I'm aware of the bitter
irony behind all this.

It seems you've picked a lemon.

What happened, Harald?

Before a drink?

Please!

I was axed by a flibberty gibbet.

The director.

Or has it escaped your attention? But why?

I...

I changed his scenes, he alleges.

His lousy direction is more apt. Did you?

Yes.

But I mean, when actors start to slip,
somebody's got to pull them up,

and the genius was never wrong, so...

So, I changed, meaning
"improved," his direction.

Also he smelled liquor on my breath.

Harald.

"Harald" what?

A silver fizz?

I don't think I'll have anything, thank you.

You know, you really are the most

tactless blundering fool that ever lived.

What have I said?

"I don't think I'll have
anything, thank you."

Implying in your usual clumsy manner that if

I had not been drinking none of
this would have ever happened.

I swear, Harald, but there
was that second and third...

And what an egotist... Darling.

Observe how you shift the center
of the drama to yourself.

You see, it was I who was fired.
Honestly, you had nothing to do with it.

Harald, all right, please, I
have to look at this recipe.

Well, it won't help.

Cooking is a lively art.

You make it rather academic and lifeless.

Well, at least it's not out of a can.

I am sick of cans.

I won't live that way, week in and week out.

Like an animal, just to keep alive.

Fine.

But that's pretty skimpy for four.
You'd better open a can of beans.

My God, the Blakes!

Harald, please, call them.

Call her off, say I'm sick.

Why? I'd love to see old Put and Norine.

No budget advice tonight from good old Put.

A miser with a private income.

Or the butter versus margarine
debate with Norine.

The same left-wing snob she was at school.

And how she uses the top of the
bottle instead of real cream.

At $40 a month, if possible

and paying rent instead
of 102, that's a real...

Forty, yes for a basement. Well,
I won't live in a basement.

It's unhealthy.

Anyway, Harald, what's the
point, we've got to go ahead.

The furniture, the materials.

Well, cancel them.

I signed the contracts.

When?

Two days ago.

It's all started, everything's cut.

Harald, what about my job? I
have to pay for it anyway.

Harald,

what's all the panic about?

You'll be at work in no time.

Look, this is a Godsend.

Well, you shouldn't even take another job.

Why not go back to work on the play?

You've got one act of it already.

And, with my salary and

the wedding money Dad sent,
we're all right for months.

Hi, Norine. How are you?

Harald's got the sack.

Harald, wait till they've
got their things off.

Now, start from the beginning
and don't leave anything out.

And, tell it just the way you told me.

It's beans, Norine, beans.

Isn't Lakey ever coming home?

Listen, tell me.

Well. I'm still at the grind,
doing brilliantly, of course.

How's Kay? That's a story.

Well, she sends her love, by the way,

she'll come to the hotel, right after work.

I'm afraid not, Libby, I
have to go straight home

to Cleveland, Mother's in bed with the flu.

Helena.

What did you mean, a story about Kay?

Well, Harald was fired.

Hasn't worked in months,
now he's writing a play.

I mean, how they're managing
is a complete mystery.

Kay had to have her modern apartment.

She looks a wreck. Dottie's still out West.

Something's cooking out there, I know it.

Poke flunked the first quarter at Cornell.

Of course, but very gay, it's
perfectly normal, she says.

How's Polly? Polly's fine.

The Phil thing's definitely off.

And nobody else? Yeah.

You know, the trouble with Polly,

she's marvelous company
when you're alone with her,

but, she just doesn't shine at gatherings.

Priss is pregnant. No!

Sloan sure had to work fast.

One way to get her out of Roosevelt's hands.

To Harald's play,

and you better do right by it, Mr. Bergler.

The option money saved them. Kay was
about to have her phone yanked.

Read the Communist Manifesto for its style.

It's just an inner spring
box with a mattress on top.

Really, look, Harald put pegs on the
bottom to keep it off the floor.

Pokey's flying outfit. Her
plane must be double-parked.

Who's the Navy man?

A bar friend of Harald's.

Say, is that actor's hair natural?

I told Harald when he read it to me.

The line of the play is sheer toboggan.

Four mink coats in the bedroom. Four!

One hell of a party. A hell of a party.

He's on the bottle worse than ever.

Listen, what can Dottie be thinking of?

A widower and 39.

I was just thinking,

everyone's here except Lakey.

How marvelous.

Come on, let's join the party.

Why do rich people give
money to labor? Guilt.

Crops out in the second
generation in such families.

How do we get out of here?

Behave yourself, Poke.

Now, who could that be? As if I didn't know.

Hey, Sam to the rescue. Hi.

Put it on the bill, Sam.

Shot in the arm for a
slightly lagging party.

Harald, how can you say that?

Mr. Bergler, have you got
everything you need?

Living in Arizona, won't you miss
the concerts and theater, Dottie?

No, there are

many things out there, many
interesting people, artists.

- All right.
- Your ideal contributor.

Heir to a fortune.

Well, take you, daughter of steel tycoon.

Your family, Kay tells,
lives on the income of...

Now, here is a girl who might have had

a real career in the theater.

Well, too many talents is her trouble.

You know, she writes, sings,
paints, dances, plays,

I don't know how many instruments?

Forgot bird calls.

Rooster bird.

Sorry, Kay, but we're overdue
at a family gathering.

No, no, please, Harald
fixed up all the chili.

I'll push off too, Kay.

Wait a minute.

The chili?

Well, that'll keep for months.

I have to go too, Kay.

Shall we get our coats, dear.

It's not that so much, Harald was
going to read one act of his play.

That'll keep for years.

This is terrible.

Picture of a party laying an egg.

Goodnight, Harald, thank you
so much for having us over.

We had a lovely time.

Should have been a course,

on how to project at
public gatherings, girls.

See you tomorrow, Harald. See
you another time very soon.

Paul.

A lovely party, Kay.

I do wish you wouldn't leave so soon?

The party's just beginning.
Sorry, dear, but I must go.

I'll see you on Monday, thank you.
Yes, goodnight.

Goodnight.

Two mink coats down

and two to go. Harald!

All right, all right, I'll
heat up the mess. All right!

Please, sit down, everybody.

I just won't hear of anyone else going.

If you want drinks, just help yourselves.

Helena, I'm so glad you came.

You can't be serious about courses
in etching and acrobatic dancing.

You know, you've got to make
an effort to get a job.

Harald, should I make the coffee?

No, entertain your guests.

Let me do it. I'll do it,

I know where everything is.

She'll make the coffee too weak,
then she'll use paper napkins.

Forget it, Kay.

Loved your rooster. Give
me a light, would you?

I'll get the kitchen light.

No, Kay, Kay. I'll get them, I'll get them.

Did you find them? Gangway.

Harald, give her the kitchen matches?

You can't leave now.

Now, please, please, everybody, we've
got to make Harald read his play.

I insist on it, Dave.

You too, Bill. I must.

Paper napkins.

Chili.

Dottie, Priss, come on, help me.

Ask him, Bill.

How about it, Harald?

A bit of that great play, sheepskin,

for a clamoring public.

Or, maybe, a better title would be,

"The Fall of a Just Man."

Call it what you like. Is it a play?

Bill!

Is it a second-rate actor's idea of a play?

Is that it?

Give an actor a man, not a phony symbol.

What are you talking about, Bill?

If you want to write about your father,

why not the poor Norwegian immigrant
who taught manual training

at Boise High School,

who got kicked around by a lousy Vice
Principal because he was what he was.

What's this college president?

Politicians put the skids under
him and he shoots to the bottom.

Why glorify your old man?

Or is the point to glorify yourself.

That's absurd, Bill.

No, I don't think so.

That was very interesting, Bill.

That was very interesting.

Is it a play?

Is it a play? That's the question.

No, it's not a play.

Just a little work, but it's not a play

till I say down the incinerator with it.

Now, Harald, cut it out.

No, no, no.

I was. I was kidding.

Come on.

Harald!

His producer has a copy and
his agent has about 20.

Anyone for chili?

You needn't have bothered to phone, Norine.

No?

It's not likely I'd tell Kay.

I wouldn't want to wreck her marriage.

Neither would I.

Then don't.

Well, it's not quite that simple.

You see, Harald and I have been
lovers for quite some time.

It may surprise you to know that I'm
not the first, since he was married.

But when this began, we both agreed we
wouldn't let it affect our marriages...

Easier said than done, isn't it?

Well, no, not for me, exactly.

You see, my husband isn't
quite the man he looks.

A lot my mother ever told me.

She hates sex like most of her generation.

I was completely innocent
when we were married.

So, there we were in this crummy hotel room,

necking away until we both
got pretty excited...

Why Harald?

Envy.

The tower group.

Kay, in particular.

You never liked me at school, Helena.

None of your crowd did.

We eyed each other across the barricade,

you were the aesthetes,
and we were the politicals.

The whole class voted for
Roosevelt in the college poll.

Except Pokey, who forgot to vote.

Anyway, how I used to envy you.

The ivory tower, we called it.

Poise, social savvy.

Social savvy? In Kay's
background, for instance?

It was something else about Kay.

Being "Tower," she could stay
at Harald's place on weekends,

without becoming declasse.

She could get away with it.

But, anyone in my crowd try it...

Look, Norine, I may not
be political, as you say.

Whatever I believed, I try
first, to be an honest person.

Well, go on, Helena, tell me some more.

I'd stop seeing Harald.

In your case, I'd

get a divorce or an annulment.

If you want to stay with
your husband, then I...

I think you should decide to do without sex.

You say it very casually, Helena.

Do without sex.

Lots of women do and thrive on it.

Our teachers at college, for instance,
they weren't dried up or sour.

Or you, Helena.

Do you know what your friend
Kay used to say about you?

That you are a neuter.

Like a mule.

I've heard that.

Thanks.

Helena.

You won't repeat what I've told you?

No. But you will.

Clean bill of health, Mother.

Did Dr. Perry say anything
about birth control?

I'm afraid I stopped him, Mother.

Dr. Perry can be pretty brusque.

Would you rather see a
woman doctor in New York?

It isn't legal in Massachusetts.

I'll go along if you need moral
support or you could ask

one of the married girls, Priss or Kay?

I love him, Mother.

I don't mean Brook.

Then, what happened?

I...

I sat for five hours on a bench
in the park waiting for him.

With that thing in my lap. And...

And then, I...

I realized that he didn't
care for me at all.

So, I left the whole
caboodle under the bench.

Imagine the junkman's surprise.

Dottie, perhaps we should
postpone the wedding.

Why, no.

But it's cruel, isn't it?

To marry Brook, an older man.

What's more, if you only half love him...

Mother, please.

In my day, if a woman loved a
man, she would live with him

and try and reform him. Well...

You sit on a park bench with a

whatnot in your lap.

Sacrifice is dated, Mother.

You don't reform a man.
He just drags you down.

I was only going by what you said, Dottie.

That you loved him. I don't believe you do.

I think you only like to say so.

Everything arranged for Boston,
and suddenly it's Arizona.

Now girls, there's more
here than meets the eye.

What have you heard? Not a thing.

What about the play case,
is the date set yet?

Any minute. There are casting
talks, script changes.

Now, Harald gets home at all hours.

No real trouble, I hope.

No. Just theater trouble.

How about you, Libby, getting
anywhere with your attractive boss?

Gus Leroy? Well, I'm biding my time there.

He still pictures me living in a garret.

Confidentially, a Yale music
grad just walked into my life.

A Jazz fiend. And I think
I'm losing my head.

He's a beauteous young man.

Frankly, it's all I can do
to keep my hands off him.

All is not lost, Priss. As Helena
says, "On to bigger things."

Yes. Much bigger, Polly.

I'm pregnant again.

Poor Priss. I do hope
she hangs on to this one.

Sloan's so busy with his practice,
I wonder where he finds the time.

Hey, Libby, listen, I'm a grass widow
these days. How about a movie tonight?

Impossible, Kay. I'll be hours getting
a picnic basket ready for the morning.

A what?

A romantic Sunday outing,
dear, in Pelham Bay Park.

The Jazz fiend.

Jazz? My God, haven't
we talked since that...

No, this one's the darlingest boy.

I met him at the Berkshire skiing trip.

English prof at a snazzy private school.

We have poetry in common,
no less. Soul mates.

Yeah, but don't misunderstand,
he's all man, my dear.

Guess who Pokey's Princeton flame is?
A poet.

A distant cousin, I hear.

Well, the poor branch I suppose, struggling
along on a million-dollar trust fund.

I got a card from Lakey, taking
a doctorate at the Sorbonne.

The girl's never coming home.

Dr. Lee.

Good day, Miss Andrews.

Hello, Doctor.

Very nice. I think.

No.

Nothing cooking?

No.

Polly, what's gonna become of you?

Not even an innocent date now and then?

Innocent necking party you mean, Libby?

Well, anything. You use men to meet
other men. Polly, I have to hurry.

Very important appointment with Leroy
at 2:00. And I'm miles from the office.

That was a blow.

Gus Leroy married. A
two-year-old boy, no less.

Wife's a Party member I hear.
And he's plenty pink.

New masses on his desk, and with
the Spain ruckus in the air,

more proletary literature.

But like or lump it, some of our best
authors are Communists this year.

The first night I'm free,
we'll see a movie, Polly.

You know my nights are a terrible problem.

You have real writing talent.
And plenty of drive.

But you just don't have the knack for
picking out a publishable manuscript.

Have you ever thought of a
job with a literary agency?

I mean, you tell me that you
like to work with writers.

Well, that's what the agents do.

It just comes down to this, we have no
work you're uniquely qualified to do.

You're one of the thousands of English
majors to come pouring out of the colleges

every June stage-struck
to go into publishing.

You're more persevering, of course,

and you do have some eerie
relation to literature,

but, I wish you luck...

Miss MacAusland. For heaven's
sakes, Miss MacAusland.

Hey. Listen, are you... What?

Hey! Miss Brooks, some water. What...

What is it? What happened? How are you?

Now listen, I bet you didn't
have any lunch, did you?

Look, I want you to... I want you to
get something to eat, you understand?

And you take a taxi home. And
listen, Miss MacAusland,

don't you worry about that job, I
think I know just the spot for you.

Working close to Mr. Jones himself,

with the snazzy salary of 25 a week.

Reading the stuff of established authors
no less. And lunching with him, Kay.

Well, the Algonquin, on expense account.

It'll be Faulkner any day.
I'm at powwows with editors,

with Gus Leroy, who knows.

He and I are the best
of friends, by the way,

even though I did walk out on the job.

Well, we can't have this again, Priss.

Worst possible advertisement
for a pediatrician.

What kept you so late, Harald?

Kept me?

I was collecting notes for the...

For the alumni rag.

I gotta do it for Helena.

The play is off. Bergler's
dropped the option.

Boy.

You said he liked the last rewrite.

Yeah. So he said.

Then why?

Well, what's the difference?
What's the use of postmortem?

Harald, if something goes
wrong even at the store,

we sit down and try to
trace the cause of this.

For God's sakes, keep your petty
bourgeois standards out of my affairs.

What are you doing?

Well, Bergler's a decent man, he's got a

show on the road. He said, I can join,

as second or third assistant.
Something or the other, I don't know.

You're not serious?

Well, what do you suggest? I retire
on your promotion at Macy's?

For how long?

Four months, six months.

The longer, the better.

Come on.

Don't worry.

I'll send home money every week to pay
for this blonde Swedish showroom.

♪ Come, come, ye daughters of the arts

♪ Come, come this day

♪ Come, come, ye daughters of the arts

♪ Come, come this day

♪ Tune all your voices and instruments play

♪ To celebrate, to celebrate

♪ Our triumphant way

♪ To celebrate, to celebrate ♪

Polly, leave those. Ida will
do all that in the morning.

You go right back inside.

Mrs. Peterson will get those, Ida.
You fill the punch bowl please.

Polly, please go back in.

I've about had it, Libby.

With all those brilliant people
in there, don't tell me?

I did see you talking to Gus Leroy.
I never thought he'd come.

Or rather he was talking to you.

What did he say? Anything about me?

No. Just seemed to want to talk.

He's lonely, poor man.

Separated from that monster
of a wife, you know.

There you are, Elizabeth. Nils!

Back to the guests please. Out
of the kitchen, Herr Baron.

Now, that's a dear boy.

What a man! That figure,
those heavenly manners.

Are you sure you're not exposed, dear?

The dress shrunk, I think.

Or you developed.

Kate, dear, get the hors d'oeuvres
out of the oven like an angel.

Now, go on, Polly. There's a lovely
man from the Metropolitan Museum.

Authority on Tintoretto.

Lakey knows him. Perfect opening.
Now, do as I tell you.

That Polly. She always leaves early unless
you give her something useful to do.

Like talking to the worst bore in the room.

She'll be in any minute saying "I'm
afraid I must make my excuses, Libby."

What do you think of the gathering?

A bit of publishing, a bit of
theater, a bit of Wall Street,

and my Norwegian Baron. Isn't he divine?

Kay, when I look at that man, I feel my
knees knocking. You saved my life today.

I thought Priss was coming.

I didn't want to say in front
of Polly, she'll worry.

But Priss took to her bed yesterday.

That way again. That Sloan is
ruthless, he'll kill the poor girl.

Well, let's pray. Helena is taking a
studio in New York, she wrote Priss.

Anything to postpone a job.

Speaking of jobs, what news from Harald?

They're in Detroit this week.

Being near the theater again
has been a shot in the arm.

In fact, he has a new idea for a play.

How marvelous.

I'm afraid I must make my excuses, Libby.

Polly, not really.

Could I have a little of the
punch for Mr. Schneider?

Mr. Schneider?

An empty cream bottle will do.

You're mad. On that jiggly
bus, it'll spill all over.

I'm taking her home in a
taxi, Miss MacAusland.

And so, help me.

When she fainted, Miss Andrews, I
thought the girl was starving.

It seems the MacAuslands are among
the powers that be in Pittsfield.

They own one of the principal mills.

My family live very near.

They mill owners, too?

No, my father was an architect.

But he never built anything
except for relations.

He lived on his investments till the crash.

And now?

We have a farm that we work.

They work.

And you, a lab technician, that
what you always wanted to do?

No, I set out to be a doctor.

That crash again.

I did my last year on a scholarship.

Too late now?

Not if I had Libby's drive,
I suppose, or Kay's.

You think you haven't?

It's worse. I never particularly cared

for people with drive in college.

Or those most likely to succeed.

The truth is, the only way

I could like assured, aggressive
girls is to feel sorry for them.

A wild success it was, my dear.

It's so late. You must
be starving, poor man.

I'll get my wrap, Nils. Not yet, Elizabeth.

Come. Sit down.

You must be tired.

Let us relax a moment.

Nils.

Why do you let them call you
that horrible nickname?

You don't like Libby?

I like Elizabeth.

I like her very much.

Too much.

Shall we go, Nils?

Lovely rippling muscles.

You're a strong girl, aren't you?

Well, I was varsity basketball center.

Yes?

Nils, you irresistible man.

But really, Nils, we really must go.

One more kiss, Elizabeth.

No, Nils.

Ice maiden, kiss me.

Not that way. A kiss.

No, Nils, please. No!

No!

Nils, that's enough!

Bad girl!

Your lady teacher taught you that, yes?

Are you a virgin?

Yes.

What a bore.

What a bore you are, Elizabeth.

Libby, I should say.

It would not even be amusing.

Thank you, Mrs. Green.

Hello? What happened?

What do you mean what happened?

Well, he just dropped you off, that's all?

Yes, that's all.

But he did take your telephone number?

Yes, he did do that.

I wouldn't count on it, Polly.

You're the type older
people find attractive.

Older people and girls.

I'm afraid I rather neglected
Gus, did he mention that?

I had eyes only for Nils.

You know, the Baron.

And let me tell you what
happened with him last night.

I left my iron on, Libby.

But, Polly, wait a minute.

I've got to run. Bye.

I'll get it.

- Hello?
- Miss Andrews?

Yes, it is. Gus Leroy.

Hello, Mr. Leroy.

Among other things, I've commissioned
an anthology of war poems

and I'm hoping for a fine novel to come
out of the Abraham Lincoln battalion.

Say, stop me if you don't care
that much about Loyalist Spain.

I do.

I'm a born champion of causes.

Well, my sympathies run a
little stronger than that

as Libby might have told you.

She did suggest it.

Also, no doubt, that my
wife and I have separated?

Well, Sundays are nice.

Little Gus and I get to the Bronx
Zoo, or the Statue of Liberty,

or feed the pigeons in the park.

As a Communist, by the way,

I'm nothing the Party can boast of,

I'm not a Party member actually.

I don't march in the May Day parade.

And the only part of the Daily
Worker I read are the sports pages.

Come in, Mr. Schneider.

Excuse me.

Mr. Schneider, this is Mr. Leroy.

How do you do?

Would you join us?

No. Some other time.

Very pleased, Mr. Leroy.
Very pleased indeed.

Goodnight.

Goodnight.

It's just as well.

In no time at all, you'd have
been at each other's throats

about the Moscow Trials.

Anti-Communist?

Anti-Stalinist.

A Trotskyite.

Rabid.

Can I get you anything?

You know,

for some reason he was
unusually pleased to see me.

Well, he's waited an awfully long
time to find a man in my room.

Libby, I've shopped the whole store

and the bottle sterilizer is it.

Now, Dottie will love it.

It's only 27.50.

Well, you get a discount, don't you?

Libby, that's with the discount.

We're splitting it five
ways, for heaven's sake.

You, myself, Priss, Polly, and...

Well, Helena phoned, she's in.

Polly. The last time I talked
to her she had a date.

What's so funny?

Polly with a date.

It's bliss with you, Gus.

How would you know without
a point of comparison?

What is it?

Does it make sense, Polly, my
wanting to join up and go to Spain,

us notwithstanding?

You mean you have joined already?

No. Some problems.

Little Gus?

For one.

What else?

Polly, there's a thing
I have to confess to you.

I'm being psychoanalyzed.

Well, why?

It was Esther's idea, not mine.

You see I walked out because

I found out that she'd been running
around with someone, a Party organizer.

She wanted both of us
to be free in sexual matters.

Well, I couldn't take that.

And then one day she came to the
office in a calm frame of mind

and suggested that we both go to analysts.

If we both decided to be
divorced when we finished,

well, then we would have
gained certain insights.

Esther's favorite word.

Gus, if someone has
come into your life since

and then you've no doubt
about wanting a divorce,

then what's the point of going on?

Your promise?

Mainly.

And this doctor...

Bijur. With a "J."

Does he know about us?

Yeah.

He was a little upset, to put it mildly.

Why?

A principle of analysis.

Rule 1, a patient is not supposed
to change his life situation

while undergoing analysis.

And that's the real problem about Spain?

Well, that's what I'm trying
to work out in treatment.

Treatment?

Do you mean he's found
something wrong with you?

Listen, there's another rule.

A patient does not discuss his
illness with friends and family.

Gus,

you're the most normal man that ever lived.

Twins? That big fat sow.

For some reason, Kay, twins
are positively indecent.

Not to mention having to buy two gifts.

Libby, please. I can't make a
career out of this gift buying.

Now, let's settle for the pair of robes.

It's $32 with the discount.

Now, you're not going to quibble
about a measly one-fifth of that.

No, but, my God, there's no end in sight.

Priss in her seventh month
positively inspired

and Dottie pregnant again.

Look, it's the robes, Libby.
I'll talk to you later. Goodbye.

Imagine him walking in like that.
Well, scared her to death.

He looks awfully dragged, Kay says.

Well, if he was half as active on
the road as he was around town...

Kay says he must sit down to his next play.

Here we go again.

And what'll they do for Bridge,
with the Blakes breaking up?

Norine's in Reno, I hear.

How are you, Priss?
Are you going to make it?

I'm trying.

Good girl. When's Helena coming?

Well, in time for the baby, she says.

How nice. What's up with Polly?

Up?

Now, come on, Priss, she's
got somebody on the string.

The sly little thing.

Well, it's got to be somebody at the
hospital, some pimply pathologist.

Well, I reached a decision finally, Polly.

Took long enough.

Spain is out. I'm not going.

I'm glad in a way.

Why not? Or is that against the rules?

Well, Esther says that my
enlisting is irresponsible.

I don't want to finish my analysis,

and instead I'm running away from
my problems and responsibilities.

Her support and the child's for one thing.

Well, Dr. Bijur agrees more or less.
I could be running away.

He agrees? You mean, he
and Esther discussed it?

Good heavens, Polly,

are you suggesting Bijur and Esther
are in cahoots or something?

Forgive me, Gus. It's just my ignorance.

But he did say you ought not to go.

Well, to that effect.

I thought analysts weren't
supposed to give advice.

That's true. The analyst
is completely neutral.

He listens and asks questions.

He did more in this case it seems.

Well, that's the theory.

But sometimes being human,
he steps in as a human being.

I should think he'd step in as a doctor.

No, no, he doesn't step in at all.

You see, the patient is
always trying to involve him.

Patients are cunning.

Maybe my wanting to enlist was
a trap to get him interested

in my personal decision.

A play for attention.

Maybe I was just playing soldier.

Were you?

I believed you. Weren't you sincere?

But how do I know?

Good Lord, Gus.

You act as if you're not
you but some opaque object

whose motives you can only guess at.

What I can't decide is, is it something
basic in you that's indecisive

or is it the effect of the treatment?

Well, if you could decide, dear,
that might solve everything.

I'm sorry, Gus. I'm breaking all the rules.

Well, even that might help.

The treatment's bogged down, Polly.

I'm blocked.

Blocked? What does that mean exactly?

I don't dream.

It's funny. I've stopped
dreaming completely.

Is that so serious?

It's a hell of a note.

If I don't dream, I've got
nothing to say to Bijur.

Nothing at all? Not a damn word.

Every day it's the same thing.

I go in, "Good afternoon, Doctor."

I lie down on the couch.

"Any dreams?" says Bijur,
picking up his notebook.

"No," I says. He lays down his notebook.

Silence.

At the end of 50 minutes,
he tells me the hour is over,

I hand him my five bucks, "So long, Doctor."

If you only knew what I've been imagining.

What about? My analysis?

I was afraid you talked about me.

Why should I talk about you?

Well, I mean sex.

You goop.

Patient doesn't talk about real sex,

he talks about sexual
fantasy, if he has any.

At $5 an hour?

And Esther's five.

Before long the savings will be shot.

Then that'll be the end of that.

Unless analysts extend credit.

Analysts.

They're worse than the telephone company

and Consolidated Edison put together.

Gus, let's go to the movies tonight.

Find one with sex.

Real sex, no fantasy.

The nativity has been accomplished

and the feast of St. Stephen.

Stephen Crockett, that's
a lovely name, Priss.

Right out of Dickens.

And breastfed.

I never expected a breastfed grandson.

You never expected a grandson.

Little Mrs. Crockett,
the chest is wonderful.

She's so flat down there, she's
never had to wear a brassiere.

It's not the size that counts, girls.

Mother, show them the
christening robe Lakey sent.

Beautiful. Fit for a dauphin.

Dottie sent a pram, and Pokey, baby scales.

Pokey? Why, I hear the twins are
as plump and as rosy as she is.

And bottle-fed, Sloan.
What do you make of that?

By nursing.

Priss can give Stephen her immunities
for at least the first year

against measles, chicken
pox, whooping cough.

Do you realize that all the babies on
this floor are on bottles except Stephen,

and I can tell you the
nurses prefer it that way.

Let's get this eggnog down, dear.

Sloan, I've drunk quarts of it.

Come now, we're not still
bedpan shy, are we?

That's him. I'd know that voice anywhere.

That's your boy, Priss.

He yells louder than the
rest of them together.

And at night Priss says,
steady like a buzz saw.

Develops his lungs, like a bellows.

Excuse us, please. Feeding time.

Everybody out, including me.

I'll go on home now, dear. See
you first thing in the morning.

Goodbye, Priss.

All right, girls.

Goodbye. Thank you.

Thank you, Kay. Call me.

I'll wait for you down in the lounge.

Which one is it tonight, dear?

The right.

Does it hurt?

Just a bit. At first.

You sensitive there?

Yes, I could never bear to be...

Relax, dear. Baby knows when you're tense.

Catherine, he keeps pushing it away.

Did you hear him last night?

Exactly two hours without stopping.

And eleven minutes.

It's a vicious circle, isn't it?

He wears himself out because he's famished,

and then he is too exhausted to nurse.

There, he seems fine now.

Three minutes, 12 more to go.

Look on the bright side. They used
to say it developed the bust.

I dozed off.

He was asleep when I woke up, I
don't know when he stopped nursing.

I'm sure he hasn't finished.

He's had something.

Weigh him, Catherine.

He's such a little thing
and he terrifies me.

My own flesh and blood.

Well, how did we do?

Fine, Doctor.

We dozed off for a few seconds,

but Stephen got his two ounces, I think.

Good. Good.

Great supervisor, if she
weren't in the bottle rot.

Did she tell you how long
he cried last night?

She didn't have to, Sloan.

Well, what I care about is the weight curve.

And that is satisfactory.

If he didn't get enough
there'll be vocalizing tonight.

If it bothers you so much, have them
get you some plugs for your ears.

Turning a deaf ear to a hungry baby?

That's like people who
don't see bread lines.

Great heavens, the liberal!

Now, do as I tell you, Priss.

Get some plugs for your ears.

Be a nice, sensible girl.

I have to run. I've a call to make.

Okay.

God, please.

I was just going to ring.

He's breaking all records tonight.

There we go.

Mrs. Crockett, I just talked to Dr. Turner.

I recommended a supplementary
bottle for Stephen and he agreed.

Bottle? No!

Your milk is adequate from a
nutritional point of view,

but it doesn't give him enough volume.

Did you talk to... Dr. Crockett?

No.

Till Stephen leaves this hospital,

your obstetrician is in charge.

But the weight curve. He said that it was...

He's got it.

I know how you feel, my dear.

Most mothers cry when I have to tell them.

They want to keep on trying.

Oddly enough, there are
fewer of them these days.

The poor patients feel that the
bottle is socially superior.

And the rich ones,
even if they have the milk,

they feel nursing is peasant.

Let's get some sleep.

Silence.

Beautiful, isn't it?

Miss Swenson.

Yes?

Are you a Democrat?

Yes, dear. I am.

Goodnight.

Good morning, Sloan.

Good morning, dear.

Well, I see by the chart that you were
high-pressured into accepting the bottle.

Sloan, does it really make
that much difference?

I think we have both been a
little silly about this nursing.

We just wanted to give Stephen the
best possible start, that's all.

No one has the guts to go through
with an experiment these days.

A baby yells, they hand him a bottle.

That's like your friend Roosevelt

and his softheaded social workers

listening to the whimpers
of the down and out.

The economy would have recovered by itself.

As it is now, it's just sick,
pumped full of formula.

I think that's rather funny.

I don't admit the comparison.

Good old Priss, never give an inch.

Sloan, what do you mean by experiment?

Simply to prove that any woman can nurse.

That's not fair.

Stephen has been crying for 10 hours a day.

The nurses pick him up when he cries.

So naturally, he's already
learned to cry to get attention.

Now when you get him home, you're not
to pick him up except to change him.

And once you've established that he's not
cold or wet, back he goes into the basket.

What about the bottle?

Well, one for the time being.

But when we get him home,

there's a little idea I want to try.

The breast every three hours
instead of every four.

But, Sloan... I know.

Would you have enough milk?
That's just the point.

Your milk would be more stimulated
by more frequent nursing.

Anyway, that's what I want to try.

I've got to run, my whole schedule is off.

I'll look in on you later.

Have a good day.

Yes?

Julie Bentkamp just called, a
big shot on Woman's World.

She's mad to have an article
on how it feels to be nursing.

You can write it under a
pseudonym, if you like.

The thing is you must be sure
to put in your bust dimensions.

Well, not in so many words, of course,

but you must get over that
you're not a perfect 36.

Otherwise, the reader would miss the point.

And things like you were
Phi Beta Kappa at college,

and worked for the government.

I won't do it, Libby.

Don't be silly.

Your style would be too dry, of
course, but I'll rewrite it for you.

Yes? Come in, Polly.

Is that Polly? Say hello.

Now, I'll write all the descriptive parts

and emotions if you just
honestly tell me what it's like.

No, Libby. Not under any circumstances.

Why not?

It's in poor taste, that's why not.

Why, I don't see that at all.

Is it in poor taste to talk about it?

Why, it's the most natural
thing in the world.

In Italy, the women do it in public,
and nobody thinks a thing about it.

I'm not going to do it in public.

If it's so natural,

then why are you so excited
about putting it in a magazine?

It's because you think
it's unnatural, that's why.

Priss, don't.

That's just Libby,

with a big red scar in
her face called a mouth,

as Lakey used to say.

It's not that.

Who'd a thunk it, Polly,

that one day I'd just be an experiment.

And that my son would be
raised by a Republican.

And now, to unveil the mystery,

a distinguished early work entitled,

Time Is Fleeting, Never to Return.

Naked, Polly, at our age, in
front of all those gawking men!

I mean, how undergraduate can you get?

But that's little Helena for
you, the sexless wonder.

You sneaked away early, didn't you, dear?

The big Saturday night date.
What gives with that?

Let's not pry, dear.

Come on over and gab. And a movie later.

I can't. I'm going to bed early.

Tired? Or just boasting?

Polly? Polly.

Goodbye, Libby.

It's Sunday. You lost?

Got off early.

Come in.

Take your coat off.

Sit down.

Where'd you go today?

Aquarium.

Did he like it?

He was fascinated.

And you, the washing ritual?

With the usual fantasies.

I mentally slew Esther,

you and I lived happily ever after.

Then, the usual pangs of conscience.

When I got back, Esther
and I had a long talk.

About my analysis.

Hers is going great.

She dreamt she went
to her analyst's funeral,

she's having her last hour next week.

Well, that's progress.

My own news wasn't so good. I had
to tell her I was still blocked.

Tell me, Gus, what are
you being treated for?

What's its name?

Compulsion neurosis? Anxiety neurosis?

My father's disease is called melancholia.

Get the hospital out of your mind, Polly.

I went, I told you,

because Esther wanted a free
relationship and I couldn't take it.

That's natural, surely.

In our culture, yes.

Don't you see?

I do have a conflict between
everything in our culture

and what I profess to believe politically.

Hasn't almost everyone?

I mean, of our generation,
maybe not exactly Communism.

What did Esther say?

She thinks I'd unblock if I
stopped seeing you for a time.

She's...

She says the part of me that's
weak clings to you for support.

The fact that you work in a hospital
makes me see you as a nurse.

If I got well, I'd have to leave my nurse.

What do you think of that?

Well, I think Esther ought not to
practice medicine without a license.

You're going to do what
Esther says, aren't you?

That's why you came here today.

Hell, Polly, I don't suggest that
I'd believe what Esther says,

but if we did stop seeing
each other for a little while

and I unblock, that might prove something.

If I didn't unblock that would
prove that she was wrong.

She knows you very well.

You sound catty like other women.

I'm like other women.

No, you're not.

You're like a girl in a fairy story.

Unreal, you mean?

That's why you're going to let me go?

I'm not going to let you go.

It's just that...

Well, you know the agreement.

If I don't finish my analysis, no divorce.

You understand, don't you?

And I understand that you're
going back to Esther.

You don't think you are, but you are.

Why do you say that?

Little Gus, the Party,

psychoanalysis. Polly...

It's all built into you.

It's been awfully tough.

You don't know, these Sundays... Mine, too.

Conscience pangs, I've never approved
of divorce where there were children.

I'll call you toward the end of the week.

See if you're all right, okay?

If you need anything, you just call.

Is there something I should
have done differently?

Tell me the truth, Polly.

A silly thing.

That you left your overcoat on
like it was a business call.

I said it was silly.

Please, Mr. Schneider, please...

Please excuse me tonight.

Schneider? Who the hell is he?

Remember me? Henry Andrews?

Father!

Be careful of these fresh farm eggs.

I'm so happy to see you.

Well, that's perfect.

'Cause I thought I'll come
and live with you, that is,

if you're not otherwise encumbered.

Quite nice, quite nice.

And a place to let upstairs, I see.

It couldn't be better.

Father, what's the meaning of...

Your mother and I have
decided to get a divorce.

A divorce?

By the way, my mental health is excellent.

Well, Polly, it all started when they
changed the name of his illness.

They don't call it melancholia anymore,

they call it manic something
or other, I don't know.

Anyway, when he found out about it,

he just cheered up tremendously.

He started all kinds of new projects,

beginning with this notion that, you
know, we ought to have a divorce.

Can't you just live apart?

Your father says that living
apart without divorce

is like living together without marriage.
It just isn't respectable.

Is he giving you any trouble?

No. No, everything is fine.

He has room upstairs. I'm glad to have him.

Well, now, if there're any problems,
Polly, I want you to call me.

I'll stay in touch, Mother.

You do, darling. And give
my regards to your father.

Bye.

Dr. Townsend. Dr. Townsend.

Come in.

Hello.

Excuse me, Doctor.

I was wondering, if you have a free moment,

could I ask your advice
on a personal matter?

Well, I was just thinking
of taking a coffee break.

I'll buy you some, if you're free.

You see, at Riggs, he was just depressed.

He used to cry a lot, but very quietly.

And now this manic thing.

Now this sudden divorce idea

does suggest a manic
elation, but in a mild form.

Depression might follow,
but not necessarily severe.

How old is he?

About 60.

At that age, some depressive
patients spontaneously recover.

Aside from this divorce,
any other recent symptoms?

Very free with money for instance?

No.

Sudden interest in politics?

I mean, with a sense of mission,
some pet formula to save the world.

No. Nothing like that.

My father was never interested in politics.

Would you like me to see him?

I'd be very grateful if you would.

Perhaps for drinks some
afternoon, if you're off duty.

Or dinner. My father loves to cook.

But not until he's settled.

Whenever you say.

Thank you very much.

If you'll excuse me,

I have a metabolism test
I have to make before lunch.

Thank you very much for the coffee.

Divorcing at their age. Helena,
that's a dreadful shock to Polly.

And on top of it, her father moving in.

If there is someone in Polly's life

what chance is she going to have with
him now saddled with a mental case.

Simple meal. Duck a I'orange. Not bad
Roquefort. Soupe a la Grand Marnier.

Limited kitchen facilities, you see.

Would you oblige me by opening
the champagne, Doctor?

I picked up that wine cooler
for a song the other day.

A little tucked away place. Couldn't
resist a serving platter, either.

You'll find silver is half
the enjoyment of good food.

Divorce is a splendid institution.

Everyone should get a divorce.

You haven't got yours yet, Father.

Can't fail, my dear,

after all, I gave your mother
the best grounds there are.

Insanity.

Are you a psychiatrist
by any chance, Doctor?

No. General medicine.

Well, I'm not one of your
bourgeois neurotics, you know.

No, indeed, I go the whole hog.

Quite mad.

We, madmen, are the aristocrats
of mental illness.

Would you pour the wine, Doctor?

What I'd give for a kitchen large enough

for a man to turn around.

Have you ever been up on
the third floor, Polly?

No.

Well, knock out a few walls,

we'd have a splendid place to live up there.

With Mrs. Green's consent, that is.

She has no objections at all.

If it's done at our own expense.

Once done, we'd pay less rent.

Big savings over the years.

It's a rule of capitalism,

spend money to save money.

That's what Mr. Schneider was
explaining to me just the other day.

Quite an interesting chap, Schneider.

What do you know about Trotsky, Doctor?

Early Bolshevik, I believe.

The great revolutionary of our time.

If he was in the Russian saddle,

there'd be no Hitler-Stalin
pact laying open all of Europe

to Hitler's bloody, fascist armies.

Permanent revolution is the
only road to socialism.

This top-floor conversion would
be pretty expensive, wouldn't it?

Not at all, I'm an architect by profession.

You needn't worry about
your privacy, my dear.

You can entertain up there
just as much as you like.

In fact, I shall insist upon
it for my own selfish reasons.

It's time you had a husband, my dear.

I need a son-in-law to take
care of me in my old age.

And you can keep a spare room for me.

And you can take me as a tax deduction.

Fall to, Doctor.

It's hard for him to grasp
what being poor means.

Polly, stop fooling yourself.
He's way up on the manic curve.

The next stage could be
an outbreak of violence.

There never was any question of violence.

Otherwise, they wouldn't
have let him out of Riggs.

Nonsense. He was let out of Riggs, no doubt,

because you didn't have enough
money to keep him there.

I don't mean physical violence, necessarily,

there are other kinds.

These manic sprees, for instance,

can ruin your life if you don't
control them, starting right now.

If you give him a household allowance,

see that he keeps within it.

Warn trades people against
giving him credit.

And as far as things like this
top floor job are concerned,

you simply got to put your foot down.

Naturally.

Okay. Take your jacket off,
you're just in time.

You could have knocked Kay
down with a feather.

A veritable penthouse, my dear.

What'll Polly do for money?

He hasn't a sou and on
her pathetic salary...

Libby, listen.

Attention, Department of Census,

born to Dottie Renfrew,
Latham, a boy, her second.

Give me something cute to tack on.

I'm appalled by all this vulgar breeding.

And Pokey about to pop again?

Well, it's ideal for that lazy sow.

All she has to do is lie down.

Pokey.

Well, just a sec...

No! When?

Twin girls again. Last night.

That's wonderful, Pokey!

Whatever they cost, Libby, silver
baby spoons to all of them,

I can't be bothered.
Don't you read the papers?

German army attacks Poland.

England and France will be in it.

Frightful. Why doesn't Lakey come home?

She's gonna be trapped over there.
Haven't her parents any sense?

So it's silver spoons?

And, Libby, I am not asking Polly
to contribute. She can't afford it.

Well, that's it, Libby. Goodbye.

Hello. Where've you been?

Very busy for one thing.
Everything is just fine, you know.

My father's still puttering
around in the top floor.

It's wonderful therapy for him.

He asked for you, by the way.

He might be having another simple
dinner almost any day now.

How's that?

Awfully big, isn't it?

The only way a roast cooks properly.

It will be delicious cold. Enough for days.

I wonder you had the money
so near the end of the week.

I didn't.

But with my honest face, no
trouble, got a little credit.

I had a brainstorm today.

What would you say to a
little greenhouse up here?

Simplest thing in the world.

Just knock a door through here and
move right out on to the road.

Costs nothing to build.
A few pennies for glass.

Don't you think we ought
to get settled first?

Quite agree.

There's no harm in drawing up
a few plans, is there?

Helena called.

Great excitement.

It seems Lakey's coming home.

Really? She's sailing in a few weeks.

I have to talk to her, Father,
I'll just be a minute.

And Dottie's in Bermuda.

And she's coming up. And
all sorts of excitement.

There she is.

- Lakey!
- Lakey!

Lakey!

So good to see you.

How did you remember!

This is Mommy's friend from Europe.

Girls, the Baroness d'Etienne.
Maria, my South Tower family.

How do you do? Hello.

How do you do? How do you do?

Lakey, I've reserved a
room at the Plaza for you.

In case you haven't reserved one.

Yeah, and two cars, mine and Dottie's.

That's very sweet, but Maria's
taken care of all that.

The car is arranged. Thank you.

We are driving to Connecticut immediately.

I have taken a house there.
Something very quiet.

Come, darling. The luggage.

Twenty-two pieces of luggage,
time for a nice long visit.

Can I have her, please?

Don't cry. This is Mommy's friend.

Well, more beautiful if anything.

Otherwise, the same old Lakey.

She's much more assured in a way.

Why not? Six years of palazzi
and important people.

Baronesses, no less.

That dame must tote
a pair of brass knuckles.

Priss.

How is Stephen? I was hoping that
you would bring him to the ship.

Well, I couldn't risk it, frankly.

We're having a toilet training problem.

Which number?

What?

Well, a pediatrician around the
house doesn't help, I imagine.

One as opinionated as Sloan, anyway.

How long are you staying, Dottie?

I'm going right back to Bermuda.

Brook is there. But we're coming
east this summer with the children.

Isn't it odd? Lakey's
parents not meeting her.

And no mention of Chicago.

Just straight off to Connecticut.

Well, they've been abroad
to see her several times.

And got a whiff of the Baroness.

Has it ever occurred to you, girls, that
we used to parade around like that?

That's disgusting, Libby.

What's disgusting about the truth?

I tell you what's disgusting.

She and the Baroness couldn't
care less about the war.

Anti-fascist, of course, but only because
it'd disturb their little nest in Venice.

You're no better, all of you.

Chit-chatting. Approving
lend-lease to England,

and just dusting your hands off.

As if you have no moral stake in this war.

As if it wasn't coming right at you.

Well, I spoke my piece, anyway.

I've gotta get back.
Is anyone coming my way?

Sorry, I'm going across town.

I'm taking the subway.

So long, Poke.

Listen, I'll take you up on that weekend

just as soon as Harald
ties up this new play.

Dottie, I feel dreadful about tonight.

Really, I'm so sorry you can't stay over,

but Harald and I have
had this date for weeks.

Well, that's all right, Kay.
Perhaps during the summer.

Yes. Goodbye.

What's hit her?

An early nervous breakdown.

Nothing serious.

She's a bit feverish on the war, isn't she?

Overworked, I think.

Yes, trying to keep up with that
master of unproduced plays.

And either she doesn't know
he's playing around,

or doesn't want to know.
She's so dominated by him.

And that big date, by the way,

is a poker game.

That's the set they're
traveling in these days.

Coming, Polly?

Bye, I'll see you all at dinner.

Bye.

Come along, darling, I'll
drop you "somewhere quiet"

like the subway.

Well, Libby stayed the same.

Maybe a little bitchier.

Is Polly's life as tragic as Libby says?

Miss Andrews?

When you're through here,
can I see you in my office?

What do you think you're doing?

Giving blood. Doesn't everybody?

You'll pardon my research into the matter.

You didn't give. You asked to be paid,

and this is the fourth time in four weeks.

It's Christmas.

You see, I wanted some extra money.

What's he building now, Polly?

A little greenhouse.

Don't you think you ought to commit him?

No, I don't.

Polly, you're playing a dangerous game.

My father is not dangerous.
You leave him alone.

You said yourself he may
spontaneously recover.

I also said he might get worse.

What do you call this, giving
your lifeblood for him?

You're a little melodramatic, aren't you?

You're obsessed, Polly.

All right, I'm obsessed. I have a...

Father complex.

You have nothing of the kind,
and I'm not a Freudian.

You feel protective toward him.
He's your child in a sense.

And that comes, perhaps, of your not
having any children of your own.

I'm sorry.

Nothing turns out right. I just...

I just don't face facts in the beginning.
That's my problem.

That's what happened...

I had a love affair.

And I knew.

I knew in the beginning he'd never marry me.

When my father came, I thought
I had a purpose in life.

For heaven's sake.

This love affair. He still on your mind?

No.

The way it ended, I realized
he was just ordinary.

Well, suppose somebody comes along
who isn't, and you both wanna marry.

What will you do with your father then?

I can't marry.

There has been a lot of
inbreeding in the family.

The blood of the Andrews is running thin.

Blood of the Andrews?

Thick enough to sell.

I have confidence in it. Will you marry me?

Very funny.

Would you like a day to think it over,
or shall we go straight to a hotel?

Let's have dinner first.

Call your father and tell him
you'll be home very late.

In case you think I'm a fast worker,

I have never told a woman I loved her

or signed love to a letter
except to my folks.

And I'm over 30 years old.

Naturally, now that something has
hit me, I can't waste any time.

Just when were you hit, exactly.

About two hours ago.

And five or six years. I picked you out
when you first came to the hospital.

Well, I'm very sorry, James,

but if I were to marry, I would
never marry a psychiatrist.

Good, I'm getting out. I'm leaving
the hospital the first of June.

What are you going to do? Research.

There are discovers to be made
in treating mental illness,

but they won't come from
putting people on couches.

They'll come from the laboratory.
Brain chemistry.

I have a job lined up with a research team.

You can work with us as a technician.

Well, there's no future in metabolism tests.
How about it?

You're fast tonight.

What attracted you about mental illness?

The waste of human resources.

And I have a bit of a do-gooder in me

I think that I come by naturally.

My father is a minister. Presbyterian.

He can marry us, if you like.
It won't cost a cent.

After we commit my father?

No.

No, he can live with us and keep house.

I'll use him as a guinea pig
to test out new discoveries.

He'll be my dowry.

The fact is, most of our patients
would be better off at home.

Then why did you say we should commit him?

To see what you'd say.
It's a doctor's habit.

I knew you'd say no. You couldn't
possibly distrust your father.

You're not a distrustful girl.

You're not even worried about that hotel.

'Cause you know very well we're gonna
take a nice, long walk instead.

It was your eyes I noticed first.

And to think that your father, a
tax deduction, comes with them.

I'm the luckiest man in the world.

Hello.

Polly, I've been calling you for hours.
We had a party.

Harald took someone home hours ago.

Polly, I have to talk to you about
Lakey asking us all up again.

Frankly, after the last
visit, I loathe the idea.

That Baroness gives me the willies.

I just can't get used
to Lakey being that way.

Well, she got me into the group, remember?

"I had possibility," she said. My God.

I really called to talk to you about...

They're organizing civil defense
groups for plane-spotting,

and I'm joining up.

Look, long-range bombers are a fact.

You really ought to join, Polly.

It's terribly important. You
better think about it, okay?

I will, Kay.

Now, let's get some sleep, all right?

Goodnight, Polly.

Hi.

Why aren't you asleep?

How could I sleep?

It's 10 minutes to Norine's.
You've been gone two hours.

If it's any of your business, I
stopped by Eddie's for a drink.

That's not true, Harald.
I just called Eddie's.

Yeah, I know.

I said to say I wasn't there.
Teach you not to snoop.

Don't lie to me. You've been with Norine.

I am sick and tired of your
prying, dirty, little mind.

You sunk so low, you can
suspect your best friend?

Well, fine. Fine.

Where are you going?

I'm going to Norine's.
Have a few hours of peace.

Harald, please, please don't.

She'll talk. It's more
disloyal than adultery.

Yeah, about that.

No.

Well, there you are. Look there.

Look there.

Harald! No, Harald!

You bastard!

All right.

No! No!

Okay.

No! Please, help!

Well, there you are!

Harald, please!

Harald!

Harald, let me out!

Harald, please! Harald!

Refractory. She may not cooperate.

I know. It's all right.

Polly, I didn't want you to know.

What is this place?

Don't you know?

Yeah, a mental ward.

It's the admissions wing, Kay.

That's what I said.

The nurses kept saying, "No dear. No,
just a place for nervous people to rest."

They took away the belt of my robe.

They wanted to take my wedding
ring, but I wouldn't let them.

The whole night they kept peering
at me through that peephole.

Judases, they call them.

Yeah, Harald brought me here and
said it was just a regular hospital.

Harald brought you here?

What do they want my wedding ring for?
What do they think I'd do with it?

Swallow it, Kay.

It's just routine.

God.

Until a psychiatrist sees a patient.

I saw one last night.

All he was interested in was my black eye.

Is it awful?

Of course, Harald signed me in
while I waited in the lobby.

I thought it was odd
that he'd leave without...

Kay, before that, what happened?

It was after I talked to you.

Harald came back.

We had a terrible fight,
and he locked me in a closet.

When he let me out, Norine was there.

He got scared and phoned her.

After I calmed down,

Norine suggested that maybe I should
go to the hospital for a rest.

Did you tell the psychiatrist
all that, how you got your eye?

Why should he know about Harald and me?

Don't you see, he could have
assumed it was self-inflicted?

Look, when you see him this morning, you...

Look, I don't wanna see a psychiatrist.
I wanna get out of here!

Kay, that may not be so easy without Harald.

He did commit me, then.

No. No. But he did give them reasons
to hold you for observation.

What reasons? He wouldn't dare do that.

No, there's a mistake, Polly.
Now, you've gotta get him here.

They won't let me use a phone!

All right! All right, Kay.

Hold still.

Still, Harald never signs anything without

knowing exactly what it is.

He prides himself on that. Well, he...

You just get him here, Polly.

Kay, it's 6:30. I can't
do anything for hours.

I promise I'll get him here.

Now, lie down. I have to
do a metabolism test.

I haven't had any breakfast.

It's done before breakfast.

Now, do as I say. Lie down.

He'll be here.

I know what it is.

It's one of Harald's sardonic jokes.

You've been hours.

Where's Harald?

He's not home, Kay.

Not home?

I sent a telegram.

Well, where is he?

What does he want? I won't be questioned.

This is Dr. Ridgeley, Kay.
He's a friend of mine.

Kay, I've seen the form your husband signed.
It's quite a story.

You took a knife to him without provocation

and gave yourself that black eye
while you were locked in the closet.

God!

So, we're gonna need his cooperation.

Well, what if he's run away?

Look, I'm gonna try to pass you out.

When most of them are at lunch... Jim.

You simply walk with me
down the hall to the elevator.

If we run into a nurse,
I'll have to turn you over.

If we don't... You could be disqualified.

I'll simply say I forgot to lock her in.

No. No, I'm not gonna run away.

I wanna leave here with flying colors.

I want Harald to face up.

I want the hospital to
acknowledge their mistake.

You don't know hospitals.

Pal, I won't do it.

All right. Then you're gonna
have to sit here quietly

while I send out a police
call for the wandering boy.

That's the first way to deal with him,
because I think he's a skulking coward.

Come on, Polly.

You order a nice lunch for yourself.

Too confused to be sure of anything.
What gall!

Yeah, too ashamed to face me.

Kay, it was at the police station.

Harald made his statement there.

He'll be home.

Very abject with flowers from Goldfarb's.

But it won't work this time. Not this time.

I always knew he'd disappear one day.

Not even take his typewriter.

Just submerged like a submarine.

Kay, why don't you stay with me tonight?

No.

I've got to get this place cleaned up.

It can look so pretty.

You were wonderful, both of you.

I hope Norine phoned the store.

She promised to, to say I was ill.

Please, don't wait.

Kay, why not take a few weeks off?
Clear out of the city?

Why not go home for a visit?

I couldn't do that.

If Dad were to find out, that would kill him.
He worships Harald.

Harald is a genius. If you knew the theater!

Okay, there's one point at which
I do question your sanity.

Harald.

Isn't your marriage a sort of fish story?

How did you guess?

Well, I couldn't admit it was a failure.

You know, I'm sort of a legend in Salt Lake.

The girl who went East,

exclusive girls' college, and made good.

Married a man in the theater.

It's all so glamorous to them.

So what?

Failure at marriage, I still
have my own life to live!

That's more than you can
say about the others.

Yeah, what's happened to them?

I hate this place.

I'm getting out of here.

Wait for me, Polly.

I know where I want to be.

I know where I want to be.

I know where I want to be. Kay...

I know where I want to be.

I know where I want to be.

And where do you think she went, Priss?

Back to the scene of college
days, when she belonged.

The New Weston hotel, dear.

Present address of Kay Strong, class of '33.

Got wise to the genius at last,

who's disappeared, so Norine says.

As for Kay, she was never happier
in her life, to hear her tell it.

Very devil-may-care, don't you know?

I'll call you back, Libby.

Stephen.

Well, here's to us.

A little different from the
last time we were together.

Seems ages ago.

I love the view here.

Perfect for plane-spotting.

They're having the warmest spring
for years in Europe, you know.

Perfect for Hitler's tanks, so he could
move earlier than anyone thinks.

Sit down, please.

Jim, I'm so pleased you could stop by.

Well, any friend of Polly's, et cetera.

That's good, Kay,

because Jim and I have
decided to become engaged.

That's... That's wonderful, Polly.

Polly, you little sneak!

But you weren't fooling Mother Libby.

I always said it was
somebody in the hospital.

And Papa goes back to the farm?

No. He's going to live with us.

You mustn't, Polly.
Sloan is terribly opposed.

If you have children, he says...

Well, what if your father were to...

Go mad again?

He did when I was a child, Priss.

It's a dreadful mistake, Helena.
We've got to talk to Polly.

It's hard enough to make a go of a
marriage without family living with you.

Wild horses couldn't have persuaded
Harald to share me with anyone.

And as for your father living with you,

if you'd like a minority opinion,

I think it's marvelous.

I was thinking, Jim, if I
can manage to stay insane,

you'll have in me your
own personal guinea pig.

Or has that occurred to you?

Excuse me.

Hello? Hello?

Hello? Hello, Polly.

Dottie!

Congratulations! It's wonderful news.

Brook and I will be in
New York in two weeks,

and our party will be the first one.

Well, folks, gather 'round.

Folks, a word of welcome.

Seems Dottie held out on me.

Looks like when I married her, I married
seven other girls at the same time.

Not bad picking, son?

Seriously, this is a happy occasion,

with something special to celebrate.

I'm referring, of course, to the
engagement of Polly and Jim.

All the happiness in the world to them.

Thank you very much, but there's
been a slight mistake here.

Polly and I are no longer engaged.

We were married this morning at City Hall.

To Dr. and Mrs. James Ridgeley!

And the third member of the
household, Mr. Andrews!

Speech, Father. Thank you.

Well, all I want to say is that contrary
to what some of you may be thinking,

I am not going along on the honeymoon.

Get a radio in here, right away.
One moment, folks, hold it.

It just came over the radio.

Hitler's moved into Holland and Belgium,

and they're bombing France.

Where would you like the radio?
Put it right over there.

France? And next, England. Now, now, dear.

England will never
capitulate, believe you me.

Where's Kay? This will drive her mad.

She must be on her way.

Dottie... Dottie, do you have
a phone I could use, please?

Yes. Right in this room.

May I have the... Hello, may I
have the New Weston hotel, please?

The Netherlands resisted and announced
she was at war with Germany.

Mrs. Peterson, please, room 2005.

Germany aircraft when
they appeared simultaneously

over a score of Netherlands cities.

Kay, it's Polly. Why aren't you here?

Wait a minute, I can't hear.

Polly, you heard?

Yes, we just heard.

There's a broadcast from London
in half an hour. Churchill.

I know. I know, yes. Can you
come here and listen to it?

Look, it's a matter of days
before we're all in it.

Hitler's not going to wait for us
to arm and declare war on them.

And the Luftwaffe, in one
night, can wipe out New York.

Kay, just get a taxi and come over here.

A plane!

Wait a minute, Polly. A plane?

Kay...

Kay, listen to me.

German troops landed by parachute...

Kay's here.

Well, I had no idea. I went to the
mortuary first and they told me.

Who's up there?

Polly, Mother and Mrs.
Davison are dressing her.

Dressing her? Well, why not the undertaker?

We couldn't leave her with that clammy man

to make her look natural,
with his rouge pots.

If the ledge and awning
hadn't broken her fall,

it would have been a basket case.

We were waiting for you, Libby.
There are things to decide.

Well, sorry. It's cremation, of course.

No.

Burial.

But I thought her father said...

Helena spoke to him again.

Kay was always for burial and
a church service. Remember?

And Libby for cremation.

Her ashes scattered over New York City.

Mother settled one thing, Libby.

It's St. Mark's Chapel
this afternoon at 3:00.

St. Mark's?

Where she was married.
She would have liked that.

This afternoon?

Kay is not embalmed, Libby.

Well, how can her parents be here?

They're not coming.

Dr. Strong was quite bitter,
I'm sorry to say.

He said Kay belonged
to us more than to them.

Lakey, may I have the dress, please?

Bendel.

It has to be perfect for Kay.

Don't worry, Libby. We're not chipping in.
Lakey bought it.

Girls, the casket.

I... I have to call them. It could be
something simple I saw, but if you don't

buy something expensive, they look at
you as if you were terribly cheap.

A simple one, by all means.

In better taste, certainly.

Libby's right, as it happens.

That's that.

Well, what do we do about a plot?

Pokey has donated one.

It's the family plot. It's okay, Libby.

Fine.

I hope there'll be no problem.

I mean, it's church ground, isn't it?

And with the question of
suicide or not... Libby!

Well, it is a fact.

No matter what you tell people,
you can't convince them that...

I was at the telephone.

Well, we know that, dear, we know that.

But even the police, when they found
out she had been in a mental ward...

It's something I didn't know, by the way.

Did any of you?

Anyway, Libby, there's no problem.

Why, I couldn't be happier, I'm sure.

Girls.

People will start coming by 10:00.

The casket opened or closed?

Closed.

And the refreshments?

Sherry and biscuits?

Just some sandwiches.

Open or closed?

As many as are led by the spirit of God,

they are the sons of God.

For ye have not received the
spirit of bondage again to fear,

but ye have received the spirit of adoption,

whereby we cry, "Abba! Father!"

The spirit himself beareth
witness with our spirit

that we are the children of God,

and if children, then heirs.

Heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ.

If so be that we suffer with him,

that we may be also glorified together.

For I reckon that the sufferings
of this present time...

I love you, Kay... are
not worthy to be compared

with the glory which shall be revealed...

Priss! Priss!

You and Sloan and your mother and Dr.
Garland in the first car.

Dottie, you and...

Brook. Brook. Sorry.

You go along with Pokey and her
husband in the second car.

Polly, you and Jim and your father, you
go along with Lakey in the third car.

Helena, I have my own car, thank you.

Libby... Helena, dear, I can't go.

I have a terribly important appointment.

Well, the fact really is that
I just can't take any more.

It's too shattering.

Mother.

Are you going to the cemetery?

Yes.

You mind if I come along?

Get in.

Who arranged that comedy?

The funeral?

Well, what would you have done?

You can't put a body down the incinerator.

It's not like a manuscript.

I heard about that.

She killed herself, of course.

Why?

Sheer competitiveness.

I used to talk about suicide

and she decided she could
show me how to do it.

She could do it better, on the first try.

Do you think you'll ever
succeed, even in that?

I never picked you for a Sapphic.

Or to put it crudely, a lesbo.

Were you always that way?

Always.

You had a regular seraglio up in that tower.

Were you in love with Kay?

She was lovely when
I first asked her to join us.

She was like a wild flower.

She had a fine, strong back. Tapering waist.

You're not answering my question.

You're impertinent.

Just how close were you and Kay?

Well, you ought to have asked Kay that.

You're rotten.

That's a filthy lesbian trick.

Spreading slime on that dead girl.

Let me out of this thing.

You're not going to the cemetery?

You bury her.

You and the group.

As we the class of '33 go forth,

in time of economic crisis, a time
that asks the women of America

to play a role in every sphere
of the nation's life.

In the arts, in the sciences and industry,

and in the making of our laws.

And we believe as we
take up our separate roles,

that it is only in achieving the
highest personal fulfillment,

the goal of our education,

that each will make the
greatest contribution

to our emergent America.

♪ Tune all your voices

♪ And instruments play

♪ To dedicate, to dedicate

♪ Our triumphant way

♪ To dedicate, to dedicate

♪ Our triumphant way