All language subtitles for I.Met.My.Love.Again.1938.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H.264-PLiSSKEN

- "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!