Original subtitles

- "Turn away thine eyes from me.

"For they have overcome me.

"Thou art beautiful, O my love.

"Who is she that looketh forth as the morning,

"fair as the moon, fair as the sun,

"terrible as an army with banners?"

- Me?

- And one of King Solomon's wives.

"Return, return, O Shulamite.

"Return, return that we may look upon thee."

- I'm right here.

- Gosh, that's...

Julie, do you mean?

Are you sure you mean it?

- It wasn't just an impulse, Ives.

I love you.

I love you and I couldn't stand it any longer.

I thought you'd never kiss me.

Five years on this same road and it just came over me.

There.

I had to say it quickly or never.

- Only I can't believe it.

It's more than I ever expected.

Julie.

Julie! - Oh, I do mean it, Ives.

Let's go to Upton and get married.

Today.

Shall we?

Shall we?

- You really would?

Well, of course I would!

Come on.

I dare us to get married.

- I couldn't now.

I'm not anybody yet.

- What's that got to do with it, you silly?

- It's got everything to do with it.

Everything.

I want to be important enough for you.

And Julie, if you'll wait for me, I will be.

Maybe I'm just young and foolish,

but I want our love to be something different,

something great,

something holy.

Julie, you will wait for that?

- Yes, I'll wait for that.

But Ives,

don't make me wait any longer

if you're ever going to kiss me.

- Julie!

Carol's downstairs.

She's ready to go.

Julie, do you hear me?

What's the matter?

- Nothing.

Nothing,

I was asleep I guess.

- Is Ives going to drive you and Carol

into Upton this afternoon?

- No.

His mother wants him to stay home

and string some silly lights on their Christmas tree.

Carol and I have to go on that filthy little train.

- Well, that's a very simple problem to solve.

Old Mr. Morris has nearly finished our tree,

so I'll get him to go over to Mrs. Towner's,

relieve Ives of his job and he can go with you.

- I don't want him to go! - Well, but I thought you...

- The only reason we're going to Upton

is to buy Ives' Christmas present,

so if he went along, it would be silly.

- I see.

Well, you mustn't blame Ives for not going with you

when you don't want him to go yourself.

- I'm being unreasonable, I know.

It's just that...

I never get to see Ives anymore.

All year he's at college and

we never get a chance to be alone

or have any fun or

go dancing!

- I know.

But don't you think Ives feels the same way as you do?

- I suppose so.

- Do you think he enjoys staying at home

with that gabby old mother of his

when he loves you so much he doesn't know what to do.

You've got to be patient, Julie, that's all.

- I'm tired of being patient!

- Yes, but I...

- I know Ives' father was a great man

and wrote famous books and Ives is going to

follow in his footsteps and have a great career.

I want him to have a career, too.

But, oh!

I don't know what I want, I...

I'm being horrible, aren't I?

- You certainly are.

- Forgive me, Aunt William.

- Julie!

Uh, hey!

Do you think we ought to go?

It's getting awfully cold outside

and Agatha says the sky looks like a blizzard!

- Marvelous! - See how funny it looks?

- Now, hold your horses, young woman.

If there's any chance of a blizzard,

you don't leave this house.

- Oh, but Aunt William, I've got to go to Upton

to pick out Ives' Christmas present.

- Please let her go, Aunt William.

- Haven't I, Carol?

- Uh, yes, you see,

she knows Ives so much better than I do,

even if I am his sister,

that she's going to pick out both presents,

hers and mine.

- Oh, please, darling.

Please let me go.

- Oh, all right.

Only hurry back.

The party starts at eight.

- Oh, we wouldn't miss the party for anything!

- And no foolishness on the way.

- What are you looking for, Ives?

An old pressed flower?

- I'm having an argument with Aunt William.

- Oh hi, Bill, merry Christmas.

- Merry Christmas. - Merry Christmas, fellas.

- Hi, Tony.

- Hi.

Smooth party Julie's giving, but where's Julie?

Psst!

- Hey, Tony, look at Carol.

What's your dream girl so grim about?

- I don't know,

she's always grim when I'm having a good time.

- Periclean, that's it.

Periclean, that's what I was trying to say,

Aunt William, it all started in Periclean Greece.

- What all started?

- Well, don't you remember?

What we were arguing about,

decline and fall of civilization.

- But I still don't agree with you.

Nothing whatever to do with Periclean Greece.

Don't tell me there were sheiks and flappers

dancing the boppity-drag on the Parthenon.

- Well, there very likely were.

- Oh, Ives, you're just stubborn.

- Well, I don't like to say it, Aunt William,

but you're sort of stubborn yourself.

Gee, Julie.

You don't suppose anything's happened to her, do you?

- Ives Towner, if you'd been Julie Weir's fiancee

for the 18 years that I've been her aunt,

you'd know that she's never yet come home

in time for one of her own parties.

And never will!

- Look, I wasn't gonna tell you, but,

but I'm scared.

Julie and I had a race this afternoon from Upton.

We hired sleds from Livermore's and,

and I won!

- Well?

- Well...

Well, I took the new road and Julie took

the old Millford Road!

- Hello, Allison.

Merry Christmas, Allison.

Get me the Constable.

Carol Towner, will you and Julie never grow up?

Hello, Teak.

Merry Christmas, Teak.

Listen, my niece, Julie Weir is lost

somewhere on the old Millford Road in a sleigh.

You'll please look for her.

- Where's Ives Towner?

- Up the road.

- Come on, boys, don't stand around!

Let's spread out!

- Julie!

Julie!

Teak!

- Hey, hey!

- May I stay here a minute?

I shouldn't be surprised if I were dying.

May I?

- Well, of course.

- I was racing another girl home from Upton.

We hired two sleighs.

She took one road and I took the other.

I guess it was pretty silly.

- Sounds lovely.

Well, uh,

you'd better take off your coat.

- Ooh.

Oh, I can't do a thing about it.

My hands are numb.

- Well, good.

That gives me a chance to be a hero.

What lovely stroke of fortune

brings you in here out of the night?

- What?

- Now, you'd like something hot to drink, wouldn't you?

Coffee?

Tea?

Gin? Whiskey?

By your drink I shall know you.

- Tea.

- Okay.

Tea.

You're uh, you're not that bob-haired bandit

I've been reading about, are you?

All right, tea.

If you won't be afraid of me, I won't be afraid of you.

- May I use your telephone?

- Who do you want to call?

- My Aunt William.

I haven't any telephone.

Wouldn't it be funny if you had to stay here all night?

Ooh, you needn't worry, I shan't attack you.

No, where I come from they call me Gentle Mike.

Where's that?

- New York.

I'm just up here to do some writing.

- Oh, so that's it.

You're a writer.

Mm-hmm.

- Do people really publish what you write?

- Yes, the wrong people. You see, I've got to make a living,

so I write trash to keep alive.

That's the trash.

Confession story.

That one's slated for the March issue of "I Tell All."

The true story of a girl named Lana Wrigley.

I am Lana Wrigley.

But look, I'm terribly glad you came in.

I'm awfully glad to meet you.

I'm Michael Shaw.

- I'm Julie Weir.

- Happy Christmas, Julie Weir.

Well, don't you think all this gallantry

deserves something a little fancier than tea?

Say, a little bathtub gin?

- Well...

Perhaps.

- Good!

Well, you could be squeezing some oranges, if you could.

Oh, that's lovely.

Fresh this morning, smell it.

Ah, it's fun talking to you, Julie.

You're like a lovely new sheet of paper to write on.

Oh, not white paper or yellow paper,

but something enchanting and new and inviting

like Lake Geneva at seven in the evening,

just turning cobalt for the night.

You think I'm crazy, don't you?

- I know you are.

You're a lovely girl.

- You use the word lovely an awful lot.

- Oh, you think that means I'm delicate?

I'm not.

I've been in jail.

- What?

- Yes, it was a fight in Paris.

At a party, of course,

parties are always my downfall anyway.

I'm going back there when I finish this serial.

You ever been there?

- No.

But it's my idea of heaven.

I wish I were in Paris right this minute,

walking down the Boulevard Raspail and...

- Julie.

You wouldn't mind if I were walking beside you, would you?

Tell me about you.

Are you, uh, a nice girl?

In love with someone?

- Yes, I'm engaged.

- Oh, what's the lucky gent's name?

- Ives Towner.

- Never heard of him.

Julie, uh...

Do you know about love?

- What do you mean?

- Well, uh, have you read Freud?

You haven't?

Then how do you know you're in love?

How do you know anything?

- Maybe I don't.

- Julie,

this is one night in 20,000 nights,

don't you feel that?

Tell me things you've never told even yourself.

That's all there is to life, anyway.

Go on, Julie.

You tell me what you dream about at night

and I'll tell you what you've missed.

Go on.

- Well...

It's sort of silly, but,

the dream I've had most is about a cat.

A white cat.

- But that's enough, that's lovely!

Now I know everything.

You see, Freud says white cats signify a suppression

of the real self.

You're a silly kid.

I know you are.

You like to talk of adventure

and all the good things of life, but you're afraid of them.

- I'm not afraid.

- Listen, Julie.

Shut your eyes.

- Why?

- Because I'm going to kiss you.

Go on, shut your eyes.

You won't be so afraid.

- I don't want to shut my eyes.

- Easy go, now.

- Ugh!

Fool doctor.

Trying to cure your heart by ruining your digestion.

Old fool.

Read it again.

- What, again?

Oh!

Land sakes, Aunt William.

"Darling,

"there isn't any way to explain what I have done,

"but believe me, this impulse is as certain

"as if it had taken 10 years for me to make up my mind.

"Michael Shaw and I were married

"this morning in Brattleboro.

"Write me at the Hotel Weston in Lexington Avenue

"in New York.

"Write me and try to understand.

"I enclosed a note for Ives.

"Please give it to him yourself.

"My love to you always, Julie."

And I'll say it once again,

that child is a reckless, selfish...

- It isn't Julie's fault.

Might as well tell Ives to come in.

Though I still can't think of anything to say to him.

Merry doomsday, Ives.

- How are you, Aunt William?

- Well, there have been days when the meaning of existence

seemed a little clearer.

Thank you for my nice present, Ives.

- Is the color all right?

It's just what I wanted.

- She wrote this for me?

You've heard from her yourself?

Is she happy?

- She thinks she is.

From what I could find out about that Shaw person,

he's a friend of those cocktail drinking Bradleys.

If he's anything like them,

he's just a fast-talking smoothie nitwit.

Ives.

Do you know something?

You're the only person in the whole world that I admire.

Will you allow me to go on admiring you?

- You're aiming to trade something on that, Aunt William.

What is it?

- It's this:

I want you to get on the six o'clock train to New York.

Go to the Hotel Weston on Lexington Avenue

and bring that silly girl home.

Don't you want to go down there

and punch that Shaw man's jaw?

- Of course.

They're man and wife now.

- Man and wife!

Julie's just a baby.

Ives, please.

It's her one chance of happiness.

And yours.

I beg of you,

don't let her go on making such a mistake.

- Now, remember, don't you butt in

when I'm trying to laugh him out of it.

He may do anything.

- Ives, we're in your room!

You don't think he'd follow Julie?

If only his father were alive.

Well, goodness, Ives,

we weren't talking about you.

You don't need any help or advice.

Not with the life you have before you.

Ives, dear, you have everything to look forward to.

Your father left you a wonderful heritage

and you can be everything he was,

the greatest naturalist in America.

You have all his work on the protozoa to finish

and possibly a professorship.

Oh, just think what lies before you!

- Just think of it, though.

- Oh, Ives, you fool, it's not the end of the world,

you know.

Why, there's stacks of better looking girls than Julie.

- That'll do, Carol.

- Besides, Julie never was the sort to settle down

to your kind of life.

You needed someone who is patient

and interested in science.

Um, preferably with a talent for drawing.

If it hadn't been for my help in drawing specimen plates,

your poor father never would have got past

the basic protozoa.

- Oh, Mother, that's got nothing to do with it.

Ives is just going through what all boys go through.

Puppy love.

The only trouble with him is he's stubborn.

- Stubborn?

- Yes, stubborn! You won't get it through your head

that us young people are different from you

and you won't be young.

Why, you haven't the faintest glimmer what love is.

You think it's sacred and sweet

and all that Victorian rot

and you're the only one left who does!

- Ives, where are you going?

- I'm going to New York!

- Well, whatever made him do that?

- There I was, in my pajamas...

Announcing Mr. and Mrs. Michael Shaw.

- What's that noise?

It's that crazy American again, you see?

- Why do you invite him to these parties?

- I'm sick and tired of him.

- Who will pay for the chandelier and the skylight?

- I will, Bruno.

- With what, my friend?

- Michael, darling.

Will you please put those dreadful guns away?

- No, I will not!

Besides, they're the emptiest guns in all of Paris now.

Hello, everybody!

Hi, there, George!

Ah, it's the loveliest party since I got out of jail.

- And how is the great American novel coming, Michael?

- In my head, every word of it.

All I have to do is write it down.

- Oh, it's a shame this piano has no strings.

It's one of the best compositions that I've ever written.

- Well, what is it?

- Michael, you must look at it.

Really look at it.

- All right, I'll have a look at it.

- It's Bruno's new technique.

Isn't it marvelous?

- I smell ketchup.

- Exactly.

It's the new technique of painting.

My invention. - That may be all very well,

but why does it smell like ketchup?

- Because it is ketchup!

- What?

- Exactly.

That setting sun is of ketchup.

That brown earth is of Italian meat sauce.

That green grass is of spinach.

- Yeah, but I don't get it. Are you serious?

- But perfectly, my friend.

It is utilitarian.

- Bruno, I don't like it.

- If you say it so bombastically,

you must know why you do not like it.

- I do.

It smells.

And because no matter how good a painting it is today,

tomorrow it will be garbage.

- Michael, you're a flashy, cheap bully

and some day I shall punch your nose in.

- Well, I haven't anything better on for tonight...

- Michael, darling. - Except your dismal party.

- Michael, please don't fight this time.

If you land in jail again tonight,

I don't know what I'll do.

The only reason I agreed to leave the baby

with that horrible woman and come here with you

was to keep you out of trouble.

Oh, Michael, please.

It's all hard enough for us as it is.

You've got to be a little responsible.

- Fine.

Now that I'm a bourgeois father.

Okay.

I'm sorry, Bruno.

I don't want to fight you.

Come on, friend, shake.

Well, look, we'll fight it out on the field of honor.

- Michael! - Good!

Everybody, we are going to have a duel!

Here, you take this gun.

- Michael, please don't...

- Oh, go on home, Julie.

- No, right there.

Michael, you stay where you are.

Now, are we ready?

- Yes.

- Great.

You will fire between the count of one and three.

- But I still say the painting smells.

- All right.

One!

Two!

Three!

- Somebody get a doctor!

Get a doctor!

- A silly way to die, Julie.

No sillier than the way I've lived

and made you live.

It's a lovely party, Bruno.

- One, two...

Drink all of your milk, mademoiselle Michelle.

- My name isn't Michelle, it's Michael.

It's my daddy's name. - Well, whatever your name is,

drink all of your milk before your mama gets back.

- Ah, I hate milk.

- I hate milk, too, but your mama wants you to drink it.

If you were my child,

you'd be drinking good, strong red wine

and then you would not be always so sick.

- Where's Mommy?

- She's gone to work again, I told you.

She will design dresses at

Monsieur Jacques Dupre's big store.

She's a very wonderful woman.

You should love her very much.

- Oh, I do love her!

- You do love her?

Then drink your milk.

- Hello, Mommy!

- Hello, darling.

Finish your milk, Michael.

- What's the matter Madame Shaw?

They did not like your designs?

- I'm sorry, Marie,

but you'll have to wait for your money again.

- But I can't wait any longer!

I told you.

- Please, Marie!

I've had a charming day already.

Monsieur Dupre liked my designs

and wanted me to work with him.

That awful man from the labor board refused me

because I'm an American.

It seems they're not allowing foreigners

to make a living anymore.

- Why should they?

This is France.

There are many fine people out of work in their own country.

My brother, my sister.

And even when I work I get no pay.

Why don't you go back to America and try to work there?

- I can't go back, I told you.

Oh, I'm being stubborn, I guess, but

I don't want to go back, I...

You run along home, Marie.

Come back tomorrow.

I'll find some way to get your money for you.

- All right, ma'am, sure.

I'll come back tomorrow.

- Mommy?

Am I going to grow up into an American?

- Yes, of course, darling.

- I've never been to America.

That doesn't make me a Frenchman, does it?

I don't want to be a Frenchman if you're not.

- Here, you can read me this letter from Aunt William.

- "Dear Julie and little Miss Michael,

"how are you?

"There's not much news here,

"things go along about the same.

"Julie, I hope you will be

"interested in the enclosed articles.

"They were written by an old friend of yours,

"Ives Towner.

"He is getting to be quite well known

"for his research work.

"You say you do not need money,

"so please don't be angry

"about this enclosed check."

- Where? - "I'm hoping...

"I'm hoping you will use part of it.

"I'm hoping you will use part of it to take a boat

"and visit your Aunt William, who loves you

"and wants to see you both very much."

Mommy, let's go!

- You're not going anywhere until you finish that milk.

- Monday we discussed the morphology of the ant.

Today we shall study its polymorphism.

Does anybody remember the word polymorphism?

Polymorphism is a word designating

the existence of several forms of individuals in a species.

- Excuse me, Professor Towner, uh,

polymorphism?

- Never mind the word, Mr. Williams.

It's unimportant.

So is the ant, for that matter.

It's the theory or the idea of the thing that counts.

I should go so far as to add

that those of you who have chosen this course

as a convenient way of remaining in college

while you play football

are no more important to us than the ants themselves.

- Ouch!

- I repeat, it's the idea.

The society of ants is divided into several classes.

There's the female queen, who demands at all times

to be the focus of the entire community.

Then there's the functional male,

whose duty it is to impress the queen

with a glorified impression of himself.

Then come the soldiers,

characterized by huge heads and exaggerated mandibles,

whose duty it is to fight and die for the community.

I defy you to forget the polymorphism of the ant now.

Far below these in order come the slaves,

whose duty it is to glut themselves with honey,

forming a sort of walking candy store

to amuse the ant children.

These, we shall say, are comparable to the professors,

who glut themselves with the candy of knowledge

to feed and amuse the children of the species.

A ridiculous and gratuitous form of

semi-parasitical existence.

What is the purpose of this society?

What is the sense of it?

You don't know, Miss Lane, any more than I do.

We can only guess, stab in the dark.

Accept the facts and beware of them.

Because the longer you live,

the more you learn that nothing is certain.

- Telephone, Professor Towner.

It's evidently important.

- Class is not dismissed.

- Class.

Class, please.

My dear young friends,

if you will strain the moron tissues of your brains

for a moment, I shall impart valuable information.

Our friend Professor Towner is nuts!

- And that's what you broke up my class to tell me?

- No.

Well, it was also something Aunt William told me.

And Ives, I knew you'd want to be warned.

She's coming back again.

Julie Weir is coming back today.

I was afraid, too, you might do something silly

like going to the station, getting everyone talking again.

- Agatha, why is it so dark in here?

- Save the parapets.

Your Aunt William hasn't come downstairs much.

Since you left.

She's waiting for you, Miss Julie.

- Michael, darling, you wait down here with Agatha

until I call you.

- Yes, Mother.

- Oh!

It's good to have you back.

Julie!

Julie.

Oh!

- I did this to you.

- Nonsense.

It's not your fault.

- Oh, it is my fault!

I made a mess of all our lives.

Yours and mine.

- Oh, stop talking silly nonsense.

Do you think my life ruined?

If you think that, you're dead wrong.

I can safely say that this is the most

satisfactory day of my life.

It's the day that my silly Julie came back to me,

looking as young and beautiful as ever.

You're going to start all over again, Julie.

Those past 10 years are forgotten.

Wiped out, eh?

We are going to have a grand time, you and I.

- You're good to me, Aunt William.

You are really.

Do you honestly think that anyone can get back

to where they were 10 years ago?

Do you think so?

Really?

- I do.

And I may be mistaken,

but I think there's someone else who feels that way, too.

- You haven't seen Michael yet.

- No. Where is she?

Where is she?

- Michael?

Michael!

Yes, Mother?

- Come upstairs, the tiger awaits you.

She's knock-kneed and spindly,

with too many teeth in her mouth,

but I like her.

- Hello, Aunt William.

- Hello there!

But I think I like her, too.

- Do you like my eyes?

- Mm-hmm.

- They're Daddy's eyes.

Mommy says when I grow up

I'm going to be just like my daddy.

- Do you want to be?

- Of course she wants to be.

Her daddy was a brave, wonderful man.

- Why have you got a mustache, Aunt William?

- Where were we?

- We were stabbing in the dark, Professor Towner.

- Oh, yes, the colloidal theory.

This is an attempt to bring all sciences into one science.

Astronomy, biology, medicine.

Class is dismissed for the day.

- Coming, Brenda?

- In a minute.

Professor Towner.

Yes?

- I know how annoyed you must get with this class,

including myself.

Servant of the people and all that sort of thing, but,

well, you oughtn't to have to be in a position

where you could be annoyed.

- What are you talking about, young woman?

- Just this, my father, you know who he is, don't you?

- No.

- Well, he's ridiculously rich.

But he's a nice man anyway.

Vice President of practically everything

and incidentally, one of the trustees

at this stinky little dump.

He's in Europe now, you know.

- Is he?

- Yes.

Well.

Well, you mustn't think me impudent, but uh,

he knows, and not just through me,

what a splendid reputation you've made for yourself

as a scientist.

So...

- So?

- I think he would, in fact, I know he would

like to make it easier for you to do your scientific work

instead of wasting yourself on a lot of kids

with soap behind their ears.

- Why would he do that?

- Because I'd like it.

- You would? Why?

- Long story, Professor Towner.

- It can't be very long.

You've only been in my class a few months.

- Oh, but I watched you all the time last year

when I was a freshman and...

Did you ever read Eloise and Abelard?

Oh, you mustn't think I'm crazy, but it's true.

It's very much the same story.

- That's foolish.

- Maybe it is foolish,

but I admire you terribly and,

oh, please forgive me, but it's hard to be

clear and simple about a thing like this.

- A thing like what?

If you're still talking about your father and myself,

accept my thanks for your offer,

but I don't need it.

I'm not Abelard.

You're not Eloise.

Aren't you playacting just a little, Miss Lane?

- We decided to get another car.

We need to travel in my business.

Got to get there sometimes and quick.

Nice pie, Mom.

- Ives, why don't you break all tradition

and come to the faculty dance Friday night?

- Tony, how many times must I ask you not to call me Mom?

- I have to ask once a year, you know.

- And why do you need to get there in the ceramics industry?

- Ceramics industry?

Tony just calls it the tile business, Mom.

- Hiya, Ives.

What was your lecture about today, son?

- Oh, polymorphism.

- Did you knock 'em out into the aisles, kid?

- Cold.

- Oh, by the way, Ives, I see by the papers

a friend of ours returned from Europe today

on a small, slow boat.

- Who?

Oh, you mean...

Oh.

- What are you going to catch this time of day?

- I need some whitefish for specimens.

- He's still in love with her.

I knew it.

- Oh, that's absurd, Carol!

Nothing really matters to Ives except his work.

That's what you keep telling him.

- Listen to her.

Carol the gypsy.

Knows when people are in love before they do.

Never mind, kid.

You're better at rummy than you are at fortune telling.

- Oh, phooey.

You think you're so smart just because I said

Irma was in love with Haye and then she up and married Ed.

Well, I was right. Irma's still in love with Haye

and Ives is still in love with Julie.

- Carol, you're being ridiculous!

- Am I?

Well, last month when I spent that weekend in Ives' room

I read everything in his desk.

- Carol!

You didn't!

Well, I never found anything that made me think that.

- Oh, well, you just didn't look in the right place!

- Hello, Ives.

- Julie!

Fine to see you.

It's my net.

Catching whitefish for study.

- Aunt William's been telling me what good things

you've been doing with your work.

- How is Aunt William?

- She's better, thank you.

How are your mother and Carol?

- They're better.

I mean, they're fine.

Well, goodbye, Julie.

- Oh, Ives.

This isn't nice of us, you know?

- What do you want us to do, Julie?

- Couldn't we be a little civilized?

- I don't know, Julie.

- After all, there must have been

something we liked about each other once.

There must be plenty of things to talk and laugh about.

- Yes, plenty of things.

It's no use talking, Julie.

It's no good.

- Mommy!

Oh, I was scared.

I've looked everywhere for you.

- Ives, this is my daughter, Michael.

- How do you do, Michelle?

Goodbye, Julie.

- Goodbye, Ives.

- Mommy, who is that man?

- Just someone I used to know.

- What are you doing here?

- I thought perhaps you wouldn't mind driving me home.

My car broke down.

- Driving you home from what?

- From classes, of course.

- You haven't been in any classes today.

- Oh, please, Professor Towner.

What have I done to make you so rude to me?

- Was I rude?

I'm sorry.

- I'm sorry about yesterday.

However it sounds to you, I mean it.

I love you.

- I think you're a nice girl, Miss Lane.

But you dramatize.

Now, you get in the car.

I'll drive you home.

- Maybe I do dramatize, but

what I've got to say must be said.

Listen, Ives.

It happened a long time ago when I saw you

walking across the campus.

I thought you were a student then, you looked so young

and I was in the library and...

- I know.

Reading Eloise and Abelard,

the love of a young girl for a sourpuss professor,

weren't you?

- Yes, I was, but,

but you see, when I saw you walking then

a wonderful thing came to me.

I knew that something new and rich was happening to me,

something almost...

Almost holy.

- Wait a minute.

Almost what?

- You mustn't laugh at me.

Something almost holy.

- Holy.

That's word for word out of my mouth 10 years ago.

It's three o'clock.

- Oh, well.

Well, what's so remarkable about that?

It gets to be three o'clock quite often.

Do you love me yet?

- No.

I told you I'd never love you.

- Okay.

You don't mind if I keep on asking, do you?

- I don't mind anything.

What'd you call that music?

- Oh, we call it rumba.

- That's right.

- And we call that stuff drunk-making.

You've had enough, darling.

- Let's dance.

For Job's own sweet sake, let's dance.

You can't rumba.

You don't even know the name of it.

- I can do anything!

- Mother, what on earth's the matter?

I couldn't understand a word...

- Carol, he still hasn't come home.

Oh, honestly, it's too much.

I just know he's started up again

with that horrid old widow.

- Oh, now, Mother.

Julie may be a great many things,

but she's really not old.

Come on in and sit down.

Relax, he's all right.

Now, just take it easy.

- Ives!

Where were you?

Oh, you had me so worried.

Where did you go with Julie?

- Julie?

Goodness, class is almost over.

- Ives, where were you?

- I had a rendezvous up the road a ways,

three o'clock in the morning.

With my other self.

- Well!

I'm going to find out for sure,

but I still think it's Julie.

- His other self, huh?

- But I've been promising myself these last three years

that one fine day I'd be over to see you, Aunt William.

But you know, Ives takes up most of my time.

Lately, this last week, I mean,

I've had more than ever to do.

Ives has been busy nights until two and three

nearly every morning.

- You mean that Ives has been busy

over something besides his teaching?

- Yes.

Something decidedly extracurricular.

- Oh, Mother, you don't know that.

As a matter of fact, Mother hasn't the slightest idea

what Ives has been doing every evening.

- And so she came here to find out.

Well, Emily Towner, I'm glad something brought you here

for a cup of tea.

- Goodness, Mrs. Towner, did you think

we'd been hiding Ives here?

- Oh, well, no, I didn't really think that.

You see, I know Ives so very well

and I'm certain he wouldn't be so unkind

as to amuse himself at the cost of hurting someone.

- You know, Emily,

sometimes I get a little lost

over the sound of so much cultured English.

What did you mean by that?

- Why, nothing unfriendly, of course,

just that I happen to know how Ives feels on the subject.

- What subject?

- Why, Ives and Julie, of course.

- Er, Mother, I think,

in fact, I know that Dr. Monroe is expecting you

for your therapeutic treatment.

It was nice of you to let us come, Aunt William.

- I just wanted to say that Ives feels

that bygones are bygones and the past is the past

and that his real life lies ahead of him now

with someone else, perhaps,

someone fresh and young.

Someone unencumbered, if you understand.

- Well, come along, Mother.

Goodbye.

- Well, Aunt William, it's been nice seeing you again.

And you, Julie.

- One minute, Emily Towner.

I've got something to say to you.

The next cup of tea you drink in my house

will be slightly flavored with rat poison!

Julie.

You surely don't believe that she knows

what's going on in Ives' mind.

- No.

I don't believe she knows anything about Ives.

The horrible part of it is

that what she said about me is true.

I guess when I came here

maybe somewhere in the back of my mind

was the silly hope that I could be young again.

And even that

Ives and I could like each other again.

I don't quite know where I got that silly idea.

I'm going back to New York tomorrow.

- Going to New York?

- Oh, Michael, darling, I forgot you were here.

Yes, I think we'll have to go back to New York.

Would you mind?

- Why do we have to go to New York?

- Julie, this doesn't strike me

as a thing to be impulsive about.

- I'm not being impulsive.

I'm just being the person I suddenly realized I am.

- Operator, how many times must I give you...

Hello?

Hotel Croydon?

Mr. Howard Lane, please.

Father?

Ah, how are you, darling?

Oh, I'm fine.

Oh, but I'm not.

Well, can't I telephone you unless I'm in a mess?

Well.

No, it's to say that

I think I'm going to be married.

I think it'll be in a week.

Well, I have to say think because he hasn't proposed yet.

Ah, but he will.

No, darling, he's not just a callow college infant.

He's that professor I wrote you about.

The scientist.

Well, this is what you can do about it.

Get him a job with the plant in London.

Oh, no, of course he's not an oil man.

He's a biologist.

Oh well, darling, of course they'll use a biologist

if you say so.

Yes.

Ah, thanks, darling!

Now, run along to your meeting, now.

Oh, no, it's nothing like that business with the chauffeur.

I told you!

Number one, he's a professor.

Number two, I love him.

- You think I'm going to examine you

on the paramecium today, don't you?

Well, I am.

Miss Teasdale, describe the difference

between the paramecium and the amoeba.

- Well, the paramecium kind of goes up and around

at the same time, kinda spiral-like.

- I know.

I'll tell you about the paramecium.

Paramecium behaves very strangely,

feeling more and more the need of stimulus

as it grows older.

- That'll do, Mr. Williams.

- In this way it becomes in advanced stages

a sort of parasite, feeding on the young.

- Where did you glean this information from?

Wheeler or Elinor Glyn?

- It goes through a phase of trial and error,

which often results in a violent action.

- Hey, Joe!

- Yeah? - You got a fourth yet?

Not yet.

- Wait a minute, I'll be right with you.

Okay.

- You omitted one significant observation, Budge Williams.

The paramecium has the talent of knocking the tar

out of an amoeba any day.

Class is dismissed.

Until Friday think of the paramecium

and maybe the paramecium will think of you.

- And Professor George P. Stockwell,

I'm afraid you're going to have to

be treasurer again, this year.

- Oh, the devil!

Must I?

- Well, it's your own fault, you know,

for being such a brilliant economics professor.

Now, let's see, that means that you and Smithy

and all the respective wives will be table number six.

Oh, dear, I do hope this is right.

I only have to use my brain once a year

and it's an awful strain on it.

- Where do I sit?

- Why, Ives, are you going?

Why, you never... - The faculty dance, isn't it?

I'm a member of the faculty. Why shouldn't I?

- Where are you going to sit, Miss Ostermann?

- Why, I'm at table number six, Professor Towner.

But I'm going with Professor Stockwell.

- That's all right.

Put me at table six.

Do you rumba, Miss Ostermann?

- Oh!

Oh no!

- Don't worry, it isn't hard.

- Why, Ives, who are you going to bring?

I mean, I wasn't expecting... - Well, it was a great...

Well, it must be an alumni, you know.

- Oh, I don't think Julie Shaw would want to come.

Um, uh...

Her aunt's very ill, you know.

- Hello, Julie?

How are you?

- Ives!

- Yes, this is Ives.

There are a couple of things I want to tell you.

Pleasant things this time.

No, I meant I want to apologize

for being such a moody dope the other night

when we met at the creek.

There's something I want to ask you.

There's a silly faculty dance Friday night

at the country club. I've never been to one in my life,

but I thought it might be sort of fun.

- Why, yes.

I'd love it.

I'd love it.

All right, then.

Nine o'clock on Tuesday.

I mean Friday.

Goodbye!

I mean goodnight.

Goodbye!

Aunt William!

Aunt William!

What's the last thing on earth you'd expect

me to be doing on a Friday night?

I'm going to a dance.

With Ives.

- Julie!

- Well, here we are.

- It's sort of remarkable, isn't it?

Ives.

Do you remember how you used to read me

the Songs of Solomon for hours?

- Gosh, I was a dope.

Julie, I just realized the other day

when I left you at the stream what a bore I've always been.

It's fun being able to talk to you again.

I've got lots of things to tell you, laugh about.

You asked me to be civilized, didn't you?

Well, I'm just learning to be.

I'm sort of proud of it.

It's really gonna rain.

- I'm one of his students, Brenda Lane.

- Well!

How do you do, Miss Lane?

I was just marking Professor Towner's

examination papers and I'm very happy to meet you.

97 on your paper.

It's so seldom my son and I have the pleasure

of meeting someone who's really interested in her work.

And your father's one of the trustees, isn't he?

Won't you sit down?

- Well, uh,

if Professor Towner isn't in,

I'm afraid I must be running along.

You see, uh, I wanted to do some research work on my own

and I thought perhaps he wouldn't mind helping me.

Why, no, I'm sure he wouldn't mind.

Look...

Why don't you go down there tonight and get him?

- Go down where?

- Oh, he's at a faculty dance.

He's never been to one before

and I'm sure he'd give anything to get out of it.

- Is he uh,

alone?

- Mm, no.

But that doesn't matter.

- Who's he with?

- Mrs. Julie Shaw.

- Well, thank you very much, Mrs. Towner.

I'll try and get down there.

- Yes, do that...

Goodnight!

Mary Teasdale!

Mary!

Come here.

Who is Julie Shaw?

- Well, I don't know, Brenda.

Oh, yes, I do!

I believe she was someone who used to live in Lynnboro.

Her name was Judy Weir.

- Is that all you know about her?

- Yes, Brenda.

Could I do something?

What could you do?

- Brenda!

- Dance with me, Budge.

- I thought you couldn't come.

- Dance with me!

That woman Ives Towner brought here,

what do you know about her?

- What don't I know about her and our pal Towner.

- Budge, tell me.

Tell me, I've got to know.

- Well, they were engaged once.

She jilted him.

Now she's come back.

Looks as if they've started all over again.

- Do you remember the time I made a fool out of myself

at school when old Marshall found

that poem I'd written for you?

Gosh, I can hear him read it to the class.

"My only love,

"you are music down the midnight street."

Remember?

- Yes.

Yes, I...

- Gosh, I was a nobody.

No wonder you left me.

No wonder you married Michael Shaw.

I'm not jealous.

I coulda killed him then,

but I know why you fell in love with him.

He was gay and slippery and wild.

I'm that now.

10 years too late.

It's sort of funny when you stop and think of it.

Julie, where are you racing to?

What do you care if the whole town will talk about

this little scene for the next 10 years?

It doesn't matter, does it?

Julie, stop running.

What's the matter?

- I still love you.

- Julie!

- Aunt William!

- Aunt William!

- Aunt William!

Aunt William!

Aunt William!

- Well, what do you think?

- What?

- We're engaged.

- We're engaged to be married tonight.

- Well!

That's more like it!

Now I can get back...

- William, don't do that!

- Take your hands off, you cadaverous philistine!

I've got to be on my feet for this.

Do you mean it, Julie?

Do you mean it, Ives?

- Yes, we mean it!

We're driving to Upton now, as soon as I change.

- Oh!

Well, hadn't you better wait for the storm?

- Of course not, the storm's our pal.

We're not gonna take any chances.

We're gonna be married tonight!

- Oh!

This is Dr. Monroe's best brew.

Aloin, cascara, belladonna.

It's all we've got, but we are going to celebrate!

Here.

Bottoms up!

- I'd give it about 10 more minutes.

- Oh, no, I'm not going to wait for any shirt.

I'll take it rare.

We're starting in five minutes

if I have to get married in Agatha's bathrobe.

- What'd you say?

Married?

Is this us?

Ives Towner and Julie Weir.

I don't believe it.

- I think it's us.

I hope it's us.

- Well, I'm only an innocent bystander,

but I think it'd be a good idea if you were to

get some clothes on and go to Upton

instead of making a lot of sickening talk about it.

- Is that Michael?

Michael, darling, what's the matter?

- Mommy, Mommy, please don't!

- Don't what, darling?

- Marry that dreadful tall man.

- Oh, darling, you hardly know Mr. Towner.

What have you got against him except that he's tall?

- I can see what she means.

- My father was a brave, lovely man,

not a tall, skinny thing like that!

- I'll take charge of this.

Agatha!

Please, Mother!

- It's all right, now, don't you worry.

- I hate him!

I still love my daddy!

She loves my daddy!

- He's here, all right.

- Mother, this is silly!

- Don't try to stop me, Carol.

I know what I'm doing.

Where's Ives?

Ives!

- Mother!

Mother!

- Ives!

- Try to be a little calm!

- I am calm!

- Hello, Mother.

Hello, Carol.

What's the matter?

- Oh, Ives, that's what I want to ask you.

I've heard all about it.

How dare you insult that nice scholarly Brenda Lane.

- Insult her?

Who said that?

- She did.

She came right to me.

Ives, certainly you're not planning to marry Julie.

To come back to her after all these years

like a weak little puppy.

- Pardon me, Mother, you happen to be in her house.

- It is not her house, it's Aunt William's house,

the poor old lady whose heart and health she broke

by being a selfish little...

- All right, Mother!

Carol, maybe you can tell me why you're here.

- Well...

Mother feels that, right or wrong, you understand, that...

- It's that Ives has been made wretched enough by you!

You've nearly ruined his life already.

- How do you feel about it, Tony?

- Well...

I sorta feel it's none of my business.

- That's nice of you.

- But, well, I...

I can't help feeling it means so much to Mother Towner

and maybe you and Julie better give in.

I hate to see you making fools of yourself

in front of the whole town.

For one thing, you'd be surprised

how it effects my tile business.

- Of course.

Julie and I are going to be married tonight.

Mother, I don't think you understand.

I don't think you've ever understood.

We love each other.

We got off to a bad start, but we love each other.

- Very well, Ives.

But I hope you understand what this means to me.

Come, Carol, dear.

Come, Tony.

- Ives.

I don't know whether or not

you're making the right decision,

but I do know one thing.

A man has only one mother.

- Ready?

- Ready to be married or ready to be hanged?

I couldn't tell by your tone.

- I'm sorry, darling.

- Professor Towner.

I've got something important to tell you.

Maybe we should be alone.

- Everybody wants to be alone with me tonight.

Tell it here, Budge.

- Well, after you left the country club tonight,

Brenda Lane was pretty upset about what she'd done.

She was ashamed, I guess, and she wanted to see you.

I took her to your mother's house.

- Yes, I know.

My operatives have already informed me.

- Well, this may be funny to you

because you don't care anything about her, but I do.

She didn't want to come here tonight, but I brought her here

because I think you ought to see her and do some explaining.

You see, half an hour ago she tried to kill herself

because of you.

- Where is she?

Is she all right?

- If you want to see her, she'll be in the car.

- I don't believe it.

I don't believe she really tried to kill herself.

I'm not in love with her. She's known that all along.

- I didn't love Michael Shaw either.

But look what that did to our lives.

Oh, don't you see?

We can't go back, Ives.

Oh, darling, I put us off on the wrong road 10 years ago

and we can't ever get back.

Ives, go away.

Quickly.

- I won't go.

I won't give up.

Julie, you were willing to marry me before this happened.

We can't quit now.

Let's forget everything, let's go to Upton.

- No.

It would be the same sort of selfish thing

I've done all my life.

- Julie, be selfish once with me.

Julie!

Come on, Budge!

- Do you really love Ives Towner?

- Of course I love him.

I love him with all my heart and soul.

- You know we're going to be married tonight.

Do you think you have any right to prevent it?

- I don't know anything about rights,

I only know I can't live without him.

- Are you sure?

- I was never surer of anything.

I can't live without him!

- Neither can I.

- What's it you mean?

What's it you mean?

Well, don't kill us!

Slow up!

Slow up!

No, I didn't!

I didn't try to kill myself!

I only wanted him to think so to get him back!

Please, I don't want to die!

I want to live!

- You want to live?

Yes!

- Without him?

Yes!

- No, Michael, you're not going to sleep

till you've said it once again.

Who do you love?

- My mother.

- Who else?

- Ives Towner.

- Ah!

Are they married?

- They never even got to Upton till 25 minutes after three.

- But they got there!