All language subtitles for Dangerous.1935.1080p.WEBRip.x264.AAC-[YTS.MX]

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When shall I pick you up, sir?

Oh, uh, give me time
for a couple of cocktails --

say half an hour.

Yes, sir.
Mrs. Farnsworth asked me

to remind you that you had
a dinner engagement tonight.

A half-hour will just give me
time to change and make it.

Did Mrs. Farnsworth mention
with whom we are dining?

With the Linders, sir.

Oh, the Linders.

Oh, you'd better
make it an hour, Williams.

I find I'll need more cocktails
than I thought.

I...beg your pardon,
but aren't you Joyce Heath?

No.

But, I-I --

you've made a mistake.

Perhaps I have.
Pardon me.

Good evening, colonel.

Good evening.

Ah, gentlemen.

How are you, Mr. Farnsworth?

Evening, Roger.

Sit down.

Actually, a sidecar

with just a splash
more Brandy than necessary.

I suppose you know what Brandy
does to your liver, Roger.

Yes, that's why I stopped port
and turned to Brandy --

your liver
is far less conspicuous

than your nose.

Uh, do you chaps remember
an actress, Joyce Heath?

I'll never forget her
as Camille.

I saw her only once,
but I'll never forget it.

What a vitally tempestuous
creature she was.

It's amazing how powerfully a
personality can project itself.

That night I was in the rear
of the theater,

yet she couldn't
have been closer

if I'd held her in my arms.

Not closer, perhaps,
but more interesting.

Quiet!
Let the gentlemen confess.

Joyce Heath never knew it,

but she prompted me
to make a decision

that changed the course
of my whole life.

The career my family
planned for me on wall street

I discarded.

I suddenly got the urge
to create.

I had to give up writing
because I couldn't write

and music
because I couldn't play,

but I could draw.

Three years in Paris
taught me...

Not defeat, but compromise.

I still had
enough of the urge left

to try architecture.

I saw her tonight,
just as I came in --

dowdy and down and out,

and ashamed
of being Joyce Heath.

But she was tops.

What's the matter, Mr. Hanley?

Isn't the highball right?

Eh? Oh, the highball --
perfect. Why?

You looked as if something
tasted or smelled bad.

I'd rather
you didn't mention that --

I was reading my own column.

Man: Pitt!

Yes?

We want to ask you something.

Yes, it's a toupee.

What about Joyce Heath?
She was a star.

She was too brilliant,
too startling for a star.

She was a comet
which appeared suddenly,

fell spectacularly,
and disappeared completely.

That, gentlemen,
is a metaphor --

one of the great actresses
and Joyce Heath.

That's why
I can't read his column.

He writes that way, too.

Yes, but what happened
to her, Pitt?

Fantastic as it may sound,

a jinx --
one she put on other people.

A jinx?

It started when her leading man
was killed on an opening night.

From then on,
everybody associated with her

was haunted by failures,
divorces, suicides, scandals.

That's right.

She practically lived
on the front page.

At first she laughed
at the superstition.

Then she believed it.

Last time I saw her,

she was on a cheap
vaudeville tour.

Then she vanished,
like the magician's lady.

Sounds almost unbelievable,
doesn't it?

But it happened.

I've got to break into a trot

if I want to change,
pick up Gail in time.

We have a dinner date.

The Linders?
The Linders.

I think they get
most of their guests

from the tomb of Ramses ii.

A few valuable civil war relics
among them, too. Goodnight.

Goodnight.
goodnight.
goodnight.

Clever boy, there.

One of the best architects
in the country.

With his reputation
and Gail Armitage's connections,

he'll come out alright.

By the way,
when are they to be married?

It hasn't been arranged yet.

How do you know?

Mrs. Farnsworth hasn't heard.

Maybe they're
keeping it a secret.

What, from my wife?
Impossible!

Good evening, Cato.

Good evening.

I'm late, Cato.

You better draw me a bath,
lay out my dinner jacket,

and, uh, never mind the bath.

Did you try putting
celluloid fish in the tub

to entice him into it, Cato?

Gail! What are you doing here?

I finished dressing early,

so I thought I'd save you
the trouble of getting me.

Good for you!

Uh, Cato, stew up a cocktail.

I don't want
a cocktail, thank you.

Some hors d'oeuvres, Cato.

They always spoil my dinner.

Cato, you fix the young lady
a ham sandwich

whether she wants it or not.

Gail, what do you think?

That I love you.

I'm pretty fond of myself
this evening.

The bank's going to
make the building loan.

Don! How marvelous!

Miraculous is the word.

All I have to do
is put $100,000 in escrow.

You have every cent you have
in the land now.

Don't worry
about the petty cash.

Think of starting those estates

after dreaming about them
all these years.

I know exactly
how they're going to look.

Unless I fall down,

they'd be the most beautiful
estates in the whole country.

And I can't fall down.

I've worked too hard,
I've waited too long to flop.

Seems as though
it's all going to come true.

I guess we have everything,
young lady.

And best of all, we have us.

Ham sandwich, please.

No mustard!

No mustard?!

No mustard.

Cato, you go look
for some mustard.

And if you find any
and bring it in here,

you'll go out of here
looking like a hot dog.

Happy?
ecstatically.

Why?

Because, my dear,
I haven't very good sense.

You ineffable cad, you.

You adorable darling, you.

You have to get dressed.
We'll be late for the Linders.

Can't we get out of it?

No, we cannot.

You'll meet
a lot of people there

who can afford
to buy your houses.

People that go to the Linders
don't need houses --

they need tombs.

Gail and I couldn't stand it
any longer.

Listen, being the extra man
at a Linder dinner party

is like being
a spare corpse at a wake.

I could kiss you
for getting us out of there.

I could, too,
if you didn't look so much

like a horse that threw me once.

Be exact.
There have been so many.

Delightful women
you take up with.

Where away, shrew?

You know what I'd like to do?

Steal a watermelon?
Get tattooed?

Paint mustaches
on the library lions?

One of you are bound
to say something rude

if this goes on.

I'd like to go to the shooting
galleries and honky-Tonks.

An idea.

I'll send my driver home.
We'll all go in your car.

Oh, no you won't.

I've got a tough day tomorrow,
and I want to get up early.

I don't intend to spend
the evening escorting you in

and carrying you out
of nightclubs.

Listen, I've never been
carried anyplace in my life.

Thrown, yes, but carried, never.

Well, whisk away
and I'll follow.

You've had enough shooting.

Come on, we want to go.

Man: come on, folks.
Come on, folks.

Don't miss this show.

Let's go in there

and splash about
in some bird's nest soup.

How about a little
high-class sharpshooting?

That looks depressed --
a haven for flotsam and jetsam,

sort of O. Henry-ish, huh?

You win.

Smart little place.

Whose idea was this?

You can sit here.

We better stand at the bar.

You better sit
where he tells you to, dear.

Oh, Don, this is such
a depressing place.

You don't want to stay?

No, let's get out of here.
Come on.

Some other time.

Well, you can chalk one up
against me.

I certainly can pick them.

Now where?

Oh, it's after 12:00.
Don's got to get to bed.

He's been working
like a Trojan lately.

Why don't you go on with Teddy?
Let him take you home.

Save me an hour
getting out and back.

Do you mind, Teddy?

No, not if you don't
talk about Don.

Alright.
Why don't you do it, then?

I think I will.

I've got an early meeting
in the morning.

I'll call you after that.

Don't forget.
No.

You're coming out to see me
play Polo next week, aren't you?

You mean see the horse play
till you get tired. I might.

Goodnight.

Goodnight, darling.

Goodnight.

Goodnight.

Do you mind if I sit down?

Not if you buy a drink.

Two of whatever
the lady's drinking.

Straight gin.

I've seen you before.

Which doesn't
make us old friends.

Well, you see, one time I --

it really doesn't interest me,
if you don't mind.

Thanks.

Not at all.

It's rather ironical, isn't it?

Are you going to drink that?

Haven't you had enough?

Quite enough.

Goodnight, Joyce Heath.

What did you say?

Joyce Heath.

I?

Joyce Heath the actress,
sitting in a dive like this,

swilling down cheap gin?

You must be drunk, too.

No, there isn't much similarity
except in appearance.

Lots of people look alike.

Joyce Heath was full of life.

I'll never forget
the time I saw her --

she was playing Juliet.

Do you remember the scene
in your bedroom

after your father
and mother told you

you had to marry count Paris?

And you took the sleeping draft
to pretend death

till Romeo's return?

As your mother
kissed you goodnight

and left you, you began --

"farewell. God knows
when we shall meet again."

"Farewell. God knows
when we shall meet again.

"A faint, cold fear
thrills my veins

"and almost freezes out
the heat of life.

"I shall call them back
to comfort me.

"Nurse!

"What should she do here?

"I needs must act
my dismal scene alone.

Come, vial."

"What if this mixture
do not work?

"Shall I of force
be married to the count?

"No.

"No, this shall --

this shall --"

Passed out?
Seems so.

I'll call the wagon.

They'll throw her in the tank

until she comes to
in the morning.

Waiter!
I'll take her home.

Okay, buddy.

Pay me 20 cents
for them 2 drinks

and she's yours.

Keep the change, boss?

Yes. Okay.

Yes?

You look poorly.

Then I won't surprise you
to be told that I feel poorly.

No.

Figuring the moist condition
you arrived in last night.

And just where did I arrive,

if I'm not asking you
to betray a confidence?

This is Mr. bellows' place.
He's an architect --

one of them fellows
that draws pictures.

Thank you.

I suppose you're Mrs. bellows,

or are you just
one of his sketches?

Nope.

I'm his housekeeper for when
he comes down here weekend.

How cozy.

And Mr. bellows, where is he?

Well, he's having breakfast.

And if you want to see him,
you'd better look perky.

He's got to get to town.

I'm looking forward
to seeing Mr. bellows.

Uh-uh!
leave me alone!

No, no, I wasn't
going to push you!

Would you mind very much
leaving me alone?

No! In fact, I'd like it!

Well, she's up.

Oh, I'll bet the Mahoney boys

are having a parade for her
this morning.

Weren't no one in her room.

I don't know
them Mahoney boys anyhow.

Never heard of the Mahoney boys?
You're very fortunate.

They're little men
with purple beards

that play tunes with nail files
on your teeth with one hand

and keep time with mallets
inside your head with the other.

At the same time,

they run around your stomach
planting jumping beans.

You wouldn't be pulling my leg,
would you, Mr. bellows?

Please, Mrs. Williams.

Good morning.
Feeling better?

I'd like a drink.

Before breakfast?

Get me a drink!

Why don't you
lay off that stuff?

Because I'd rather
be drunk than sober.

I gathered that last night.

Last night?

Oh, you must be quite proud
of your conquest.

You're very wrong.
You see, I --

don't bother with alibis.
It really doesn't matter.

You're a perfect alibi.

Take a look at yourself.
Take a good look.

Drunken, ill-kempt --

the only feeling you could
arouse in a man is pity.

Pity?!

Pity!

You dare feel sorry for me?!

You with your fat little soul
and your smug face,

picking your way so cautiously
through a pastel existence.

Well, I've lived more in a day
than you'll ever dare live!

Pity for me?!

That's very funny,

because I've never
had any for men like you!

You know, just now you were
as I imagined you'd be.

Playing the second-act speech
in a third-act curtain.

When you boast to your friends
about seeing me here,

I shouldn't mention it was
after I'd become a has-been.

It would detract frightfully

from the glamour
of your adventure.

Now, look here, miss Heath,

the reason I brought you here --

I know.
Because you were sorry for me.

You've already said that.

No.

Because I was grateful to you

for something very important
in my life.

I suppose you've
always loved the theater.

It was more than that.

The beauty and fineness
of one of your performances

moved me so strongly

that the whole pattern
of my life was altered.

I've had plenty
to be grateful for.

But first of all,
I owe you my deepest gratitude.

Well...

Then I'm humiliated to the point
where I must thank you.

Breakfast?

Breakfast!

Oh.

Smoking before breakfast?

You'll spoil your appetite.

Being here already has.

Restful here, isn't it?

The whole countryside
seems to have found peace.

A person could find peace, too.

No. You only find that
in yourself.

And when you do,
you might as well be dead.

Dead?

"Rest in peace"
is for tombstones.

And for the living?

Desire --
to want something,

to obtain that desire,

and live up to
every moment of it.

And then go on
leaving yesterday behind,

on and on, higher and higher.

Frustrated actress reads lines
for small audience.

You could go on.
Talent like yours doesn't die.

You were a star once.
You can be again.

Mm-hmm -- an evil star,
a jinx.

Better run for your life.

You can't possibly believe

that silly
theatrical superstition.

Well, two men
who have loved me are dead,

some financially ruined.

Shows have folded --
how can I possibly ignore it

when producers
won't give me parts?!

Your breakfast is getting cold.

And you'd better
be getting back to town

if you want to change your duds.

You know, there's something
in what you say.

I don't want any breakfast.
I'm going with you.

Why don't you stay the week?
No one will be using the house,

and I can come down Saturday
and take you in.

The rest and quiet
will do you good.

Helping Joyce Heath is like
shaking hands with the devil --

the worst luck in the world.

that's ridiculous.

Do you really want to
go back to town?

I don't care.

You wouldn't feel obligated
if you stayed, would you?

Why should I?
What difference does it make?

It doesn't make any difference.

And you'll stay?

Yes, yes, yes!
But stop asking me questions.

Go on back
and boast to your friends

about fishing Joyce Heath
out of the gutter.

I won't mention it,
I can assure you.

You better watch her
pretty closely.

She's on the verge
of going off the deep end.

Come and have your breakfast
before it gets cold?

May I please have a drink?

Fresh milk?
Country sausage?

Come and get it.
There's lots to tuck away.

I asked for a drink.
Where's the bottle?

Yes, dear.
After you've eaten?

I don't want your greasy food!
I want a drink!

Where is it?

It'll only make you
more sick and fidgety.

You're worn to a frazzle.
What you need is rest and food.

Where is it?

Uh...I don't know.

You're a liar!

Now, now, now, now.

Give me the key.

I haven't got it.

Oh! My dear!
Leave me alone!

My dear!

You've cut yourself.

And I reckon it isn't
the first time you've been hurt

getting things
you shouldn't have.

Oh, stop nagging me.
Get out.

Get out, will you?!

Oh! Oh.

Ahh, phantom of delight,
as wordsworth says.

That's a little thing
I thought up myself.

And not bad, either.

And what's the little woman
been doing?

Shopping. You?

Getting a check
for a theater job,

and next week I go in escrow.

Grand, isn't it?
And those estates --

they're going to
be your masterpiece, Don.

I've talked to more people
that are interested.

Well, they better be.

Or when my creditors get through
subdividing my shirt,

there won't be enough of it left
to show in a blue serge suit.

Oh, stop worrying.

I've come to take you
to the Polo matches.

Teddy's playing.

Teddy?

You know, I've often wondered

why he doesn't
use a croquet mallet --

he's on the ground
most of the game.

Will you hurry up?

We'll miss the first chukker
as it is.

I'll take 4-to-1
on Teddy's collarbone.

Nope. But I'll take
2-to-1 on a rib.

oh, I can't go.

Why not?

I just remembered I promised

to go down to the country
this afternoon.

Oh, why?

Well, it's rather
an interesting case.

Do you remember the night
you and I and Teddy

sneaked out of the Linder party?

Mm-hmm.

Well -- oh, I forgot.
I promised not to tell.

Sounds intriguing.

Well, it was
a peculiar incident.

I don't see any reason
why I shouldn't tell you.

Nope, better not.
A promise is a promise.

Will you be home by Sunday?

Tonight. And if you ask me
out to breakfast Sunday morning,

I'll take you out
on the golf course,

give you a stroke a hole,
and beat the pa--

we call them "slacks."

You may kiss me.

Bye. See you Sunday.

Ahh!

Good evening, widow Williams.

And stay to dinner, Mr. Don?

Pot roast.

Pot roast? With those potatoes,
carrots and onions around it?

Mm-hmm.

It's a shame to disturb them.
They look so cozy.

and turnips.

Turnips?

Well, what's the matter
with turnips?

Turnips are good for you.
They grow hair on your chest.

Do you eat them?

Sure.

Mr. Don, don't be pesky.

How's your guest?

Well, she isn't exactly chatty.

You could get more conversation
out of a snowman.

Where is she now?

She's gone up the hill
towards the barn.

I better go
and try and find her.

Looks like rain to me.

You know, that corn of mine

has been prophesying rain
for 30 years.

Excepting once --

and that was my own fault
for trimming it.

I better hurry then.

When are you going to
fetch her home, Mr. Don?

Whenever she wants to go. Why?

Oh, nothing.
I was just talking.

I'll be glad
when she's gone, though.

Why?

Well, it's different
for a man like you.

But a woman knows an awful lot
about another woman,

and she's dangerous.

A bad woman's got something
a good woman ain't,

and a good woman's
jealous of that something

and afraid of it.

I don't know what it is,
but...She's got it.

Sounds to me
as if you'd been reading

a lot of bad translations
of French novels.

In the first place,
I don't find miss Heath

particularly attractive
off the stage.

And in the second place,
it's no concern of yours.

I guess he's right.

I'm an old fool
and getting a regular busybody.

Miss Heath!

Miss Heath!

Miss Heath.

Hey, wake up.

Oh, it's you.

It's Saturday,
I fell asleep in the barn.

It all comes back to me now.

It's also going to rain,
and it's supposed to

be very good sense
to come in out of it.

That's merely hearsay.

Would you hand me
my shoes and stockings, please?

Thanks.

You know,
you're looking much better.

I've enjoyed this afternoon --

going barefoot
and sleeping in the sun,

playing a sort of a naiad
in general.

What do you mean?
What's a naiad?

Some sort of a wood nymph.

I'm not very much
up on my sprites.

Well, I must say a naiad

becomes you better
than a Maenad.

Fancy!

Well, what's a Maenad?

They were mythical women,

famous for their beauty
and charm,

who attended
the Dionysian revels.

They were always so carried away
by the wild madness

that they ended up
by dancing hysterically

over the edge of a cliff
to destruction.

Sorry, but I'm too tired
to be hysterical.

And my feet are much too sore
from going barefoot

to stand the jar
of dancing over the cliff.

By the way, I, um...
I got the sermon.

There's one little piggy
that's going to market

in a shocking state of nudity.

I hope you don't mind

my borrowing
some of your clothes.

Not at all.

Sorry.

Looks as if we're going to
have a cloudburst.

What do you find so amusing?

What do you find so disturbing?

Come on, before we get drenched.

Naiad or Maenad nothing --
mermaid!

Ha ha ha! Come on.

Land's sake!
You're soaking wet!

Well, it's all your fault!

If you'd used a corn plaster,
this wouldn't have happened.

You'd better be getting back
to town, Mr. Don,

before you have to go in an ark.

You can't drive back
in this rain.

And why can't he, may I ask?

Well, driving that road's

going to be a good deal like
touring in a full bathtub.

I never thought of that.

You better turn down my bed,
Mrs. Williams.

I'll get up early and drive in.

Listen to that rain.

I saw you the opening night
of your Juliet.

Did you?

I think it was one
of your best performances.

Yes.

Which play would you prefer
to do more than any other?

One I've never done --

A thing called, "but to die."

I'd give anything
in the world to play it.

I wouldn't have to act it.
I could live it.

Well, why hasn't somebody
produced it for you?

With the jinxed woman
of the theater?

Don't be silly.

I noticed a very interesting
play on your bookshelves.

Which one?

It's called, uh...
"Forever ends at dawn."

"Forever ends at dawn"?

I don't think I've ever read it.

It's a beautiful last act.

You wouldn't read it to me,
would you?

Sure you'd like to hear it?

It'd be a treat
to listen to you.

Well, just the last act, then.

The scene of the play
is the French riviera.

It's a story
about a man and a woman,

not a very nice person,
but a fascinating one.

The man has a wife or a fiancee,
I've forgotten which,

with whom he's
very much in love.

He's intrigued by this woman,

but quite nobly
resists her charms.

Here it is --
"forever ends at dawn."

You may find the dialogue
a bit awkward in spots,

but I'll try
and make it convincing.

I've never heard you
when you weren't.

Thank you.

This scene takes place

in the woman's room
late at night.

The man has to go home
in the morning,

and so he comes
to say goodbye to her.

I'll read from here.

"Richard: I had to come
and say goodbye

"and tell you
it's been swell knowing you.

"Joan: well, I thought
that our goodbye

"would be different from this.

"Richard: yes, but you see,
there's always --

"Joan: I know. That girl
in the back of your heart.

"Joan: her forever lasts
till death do you part.

"My forever only until dawn.

"Tomorrow is where
regrets lie, Richard.

"But there'll
be no tomorrow for us --

"only tonight,
which we steal from no one

"and forget as a dream

"which has no part
of our normal lives,

"over which we had no control

and for which we need feel
no obligation."

Is that the end of the play?

Almost.

Let's have some music.

You know,
you read that beautifully.

Now you know.

I know it won't do.

Where are you going?

Out for a walk.

In this rain?

I like walking in the rain.

So do I.
I think I'll go, too.

There's only one slicker.

Why don't you go back?

Mrs. Williams: Kidneys and bacon
with corn bread

this morning, Mr. Don.

That's fine.

Miss Heath not down yet?

No. I called her
about 15 minutes ago.

Mrs. Williams, would you mind?

Good morning!

Like the negligee I borrowed
from Mrs. Williams?

It's fine.

Rather cruel, aren't you?

Why do you say that?

Well, you might at least
have smiled at me

as I came down the stairs,
even if it were a lie.

I don't think
this is any time to lie.

Or to speak the truth
or to say anything, in fact.

Could I pour you some coffee?

Joyce...I hate loose ends.

They -- they tangle your life.
They trip you up.

Yes, Don.

Well, last night --

I'm sorry I kissed you
and said the things I did.

How very gallant of you
to say so.

No, you don't understand.

You see, I'm engaged to someone.

And you blame me.

No, it was unfair to you, too.

You're so very...
Fascinating.

I think it was that,

the storm, and our nearness

that made me lose my senses.

Well, I've got them back
this morning,

and I'm asking you
to forgive me.

And for what I'm saying now
if I hurt you.

Hurt me?!

You delight me!

You have the most amazing
lack of humor

of anyone I've ever known!

I shouldn't
laugh at you, should I?

But I can't help it.

You were so awkward

that I almost laughed
in your face at first.

And then it made me quite sick
to think that anyone

could be stupid enough

to be taken in
by a lot of old tricks.

I thought you might
at least be amusing,

but you turned out to be dull
and stupid and so afraid.

Well, you needn't be.

I won't hurt your Sunday-school
romance or oh-so-nice career.

Hurt me?! Get out of here
before you give me hysterics!

Sorry, friend, but I think
you've stopped here.

Does seem advisable, doesn't it?

How soon will you
have it repaired?

Oh, the lumber will be here
about noon,

and I think you ought to
get across early this evening.

Too bad you didn't
get out last night.

Yeah.

Can one of your men get across

and telephone for me
from the other side?

Oh, sure.

Well, have him call
miss Armitage at Austin-9532.

Say that Mr. bellows
has been delayed

and can't see her
till this evening.

And I'd be very much obliged
if you'd let me know

the minute I can get across.
I'm up at the old Quinn farm.

Okay. The first thing.

Joyce!

Don!

You did come back!

I was praying you would.

I had to.
You see --

it doesn't matter why.
You did. You had to.

You didn't believe what I said
this morning, did you?

Did you?

I guess I had it coming to me.

Oh, no, no, Don.
It was a lie.

Well, let's forget about it.

Well, you can forget that,
but rememberthis --

I know you belong
to somebody else,

and I don't want you --
really I don't --

But last night was mine, and --

and I made it ugly this morning.

And I don't want you
to think of it that way.

I won't.

You will
unless I tell you the truth.

You've seen me
drunk...Disgusting.

You took me in out of pity.

Well, that hurt my pride.

And because I'm a --
a good deal of a shrew,

I wanted to hurt yours.

I was going to tease you
with all the tricks I knew

till you'd try and kiss me,

and...I was going to laugh
in your face.

I was an actress playing a part.

Well, I played it too well,

because when you took me
in your arms,

I didn't want to laugh.

I wanted to cry.

I'm sorry.

I'm not -- I'm glad.

Last night was beautiful.

It will always be beautiful.

And now that it's over --

it's not over, Joyce.

Oh, yes, Don,
it's got to be over.

Your career's on the verge
of permanent success.

You'll have someone
who can help you.

I can't.

I'm the kind of a woman
who destroys, not builds.

I'm Joyce Heath, Don --

a Maenad who --

who doesn't want to
dance over the cliff

with anyone as fine as you.

Now, come on,

let's finish up
the rest of the day very fast.

I'll get dressed.
You go down.

Alright.

I got it.

No, no, no!
That's not fair!

You must be playing
with a pinochle deck.

Well, it's just that
you're slow, that's all.

Well, no wonder --

these cards are so thick
and so old,

I might just as well be playing

with
the "encyclopaedia Britannica"!

Wait a minute!
Wait a minute!

The recipe said it was Taffy,

but that's not what we've got.

If I can ever get my jaws apart,

I'm going to bite the person
that said so.

Pardon me while I get out
a piece of Taffy.

I noticed a couple of molars
and bicuspids

that are sticking to it.

get it?

Yeah, but I think I lost a nail.

We should've put some sand
in that mess --

it would have given us
something to hold on to.

I wonder if Mrs. Williams
would like some?

It would certainly
take the rattle

out of her uppers and lowers.

I wish I'd never seen you...

Never kissed you,
never held you in my arms...

Because every time I do,
I hate myself -- I hate you.

I could kill every emotion
except the desire

to hold you just once more.

You can get across
the road now, Mr. bellows.

Oh, thank you.

I got that phone call
through alright, too.

Much obliged.
Goodnight. Goodnight.

You can go now?
Yes.

And you must...

Because if you stay,
it'll be too late.

I love you.

You may never love me,

but you'll find
you'll always come back to me.

And each time you return,
it will cost you more and more,

until...well,
you've spent your career,

your ambitions, your dreams.

I'm bad for people.

I don't mean to be,
but I can't help myself.

So I'm being generous
to you, Don --

kind, kinder than I've ever been
to anybody before.

But I can't be much longer...

So go...Leave me.

You can leave me, can't you?

I don't know.

I've got to find out.

Mr. Don gone, miss?

Yes.

But he's coming back?

Yes, I think he will.

Yes?

Mr. bellows?

Huh?

Miss Armitage
is on the telephone.

Put her on.

No!

Tell her I'm still out of town.

I'll call her when I get back.

Very well, sir.

And Mr. Haynes
of the united quarries

has called several times to ask
if you'd reached a decision.

Tell him I haven't been able
to make up my mind.

He said he'd have to
have an answer

one way or the other --
"yes" or "no."

That's right.

It's got to be "yes" or "no."

Thank you, miss seals.

Come in.

Mr. bellows, miss Gail.

Oh. Well, show him in, Betty.

And, uh, we'll have coffee also.

Manhattans for Mr. bellows?

That's right.

Well, hello, Mr. "b."

It's about time
you were getting back.

Darling...
something's happened?

Yes, Gail, something's happened.

Well, even if it's all
for the worst,

it can't be so bad,
because you've got

the most enthusiastic assistant
in the world

to help you laugh it off,
or to work it out,

whichever we're going to do.

Gail, it would make me prouder
to have you as my wife

than to have any other woman
in the world.

If I could respect you
a little less,

it would all be very simple,
but I can't,

so I must ask you a question,

and I'm afraid
I know the answer already.

What is it, Don?

If we were married,

there's one humiliation
you'd never know,

and that's having me
deceive you with someone else.

I know that.

But if there were
someone else --

someone I didn't love,
that I'd never even see again,

but who -- who had a strange,
exotic fascination for me,

an appeal I couldn't kill --

would that make
any difference to you?

Yes, Don, it would.

Whether you ever went to her
or not wouldn't matter,

but the fact
that you'd want to would.

It mightn't make me
love you any less --

perhaps more --

but the agony of wondering
every time you kissed me

whether you were thinking
about her,

the hate and dread
I'd have for that other woman,

and the terrific loneliness
for that little part of you

which I wouldn't own --
would be unendurable.

I-I can't tell you, Don,

how much I admire you for --
for being so honest,

and thank you
for coming to say goodbye.

You're --

goodbye.

Mr. bellows gone, miss Gail?

Is he coming back?

Yes.

Yes, I think he will.

Mr. Sheffield,
I've come to see you

for some advice
on producing a play.

That's something
I know nothing about.

An angel is a celestial being
after death, Mr. bellows,

but before --
he's a sucker.

Thanks for the warning,
but what I want's an opinion.

Have you ever heard of a play
called "but to die"?

A magnificent script,

which, with the proper lead,
would make a great play.

However, miscast,
it would close so fast

that the third-act curtain

would get caught
in the stage door.

Who do you see in the lead?

There are only two women
who could have played it --

Jean eagles...
And Joyce Heath.

Eagles is dead.
Heath has disappeared.

So forget it.

If I make both the script
and miss Heath available to you,

would you produce it?

Mr. bellows, I have
great respect for the script,

and almost a reverence
for miss Heath's talent,

but I wouldn't hazard $80,000
to defy a jinx.

Surely an intelligent man
like you

doesn't take any stock
in a legend like that?

When you ask
$80,000 a share of it, I do.

Suppose I paid the $80,000?

Then I would produce
and direct it myself.

Will you have your lawyer
draw the contract?

Very well.

By the way,
do you bite your fingernails?

No.

You will.

You did come!

You knew I would.

Yes, I knew.

Let's go inside.

I've only got a minute.
I've got to get right back.

Tonight?
yeah.

Darling.

Joyce.

I want to talk to you.

Now, listen --
you and I are both artists.

I deal in permanence,
things that last --

you in emotions, moments --

things that flame and burn
and leave ashes.

So we're not the same --
I know that --

but is there any consistency
in the way you feel toward me?

Could we ask questions
afterwards?

No. I can't build without plans.

Answer me, Joyce --

is there any consistency
in your feelings toward me?

Tonight I love you so much
that nothing else matters --

a love you couldn't kill.

But that's tonight.

Tomorrow should be the same.
I want it to be.

But I've been betrayed
so often by tomorrows,

I don't dare promise them.

That's the only honest answer
I can give you, darling.

That's a gentlemen's answer.

Guess I'm not lady enough
to lie.

No, I don't think you would.

I broke my engagement.

Why?

Because of us.

Well, what about her?

Let's leave her out of it.

All I know is she's stronger
than either of us,

because if she weren't,
I wouldn't be here.

Then I'm glad I'm weaker.

You are, too, aren't you?
Say you are.

No, I'm not!

I'm here.

That's all I care about.

There are other things
that are important to me --

first of all, your career.

Well, why should you
concern yourself about that?

Because you don't belong
in the audience,

but on the stage.

Your emotion, your restlessness,
have beauty and poetry there.

Off the stage, they'd be brutal.

They'd ruin us both,
but I'm hoping in the theater,

you'll find enough release
for all that sort of thing

to be reasonably content
with me.

Why should I find contentment?
I don't want it!

Well, I do!

I want you
and I want peace, too!

They wouldn't let me
inside a theater.

They'd be afraid
it would fall down!

You start rehearsing
"but to die"

for George Sheffield
Monday morning.

What?!

Me?!

"But to die" --

oh, you're mad!
Sheffield wouldn't risk it!

You get the script
from him tomorrow.

Don, did you put
your money in it?

Yes.

Oh, you fool!
You crazy fool!

Something will happen!

I've told you a million times,
I'm a jinx!

You're no such thing.
You're a great actress.

I'm so sure,

I'm risking the money to realize
the one ambition I ever had.

You're going to be better
than you ever were,

because if I'm going to marry
Joyce Heath,

it's got to be
the real Joyce Heath!

Marry?

Yes. I can't compromise,

and I won't sneak and apologize.

I'm playing your game,
but I'm playing it for keeps.

What's the matter?

Nothing, only...Well, uh,
it's all happened so quickly,

you know -- being told
about doing the play,

and -- and your wanting
to marry me.

You see...

Well, it will ruin
your career, Don.

You're "society," I'm "theater,"
and they just don't mix.

It's still marriage.

Yes, I know, but...

Well, let's not talk
about it just now.

Think, Don --
going on the stage

for the first time in two years
to play for you.

Your career -- mine!

Our lives, our success
depending on one performance.

When the lights go out
and that curtain goes up --

oh, Don, that's being alive!

I love you, I love you
for bringing me back to life!

Are you going back
to town tonight?

Right away.

I'm going with you.

Why?

To leave two years behind!

Faster!

Faster!

Joyce: so that's all
it's been to you, Charles --

just a shipboard romance?

No, no, it wasn't.

Oh, yes --
just a man telling a woman

that the moon
on the rolling ocean

is not half as lovely as she,

swearing devotion
eternal as the tides,

sweeping the girl off her feet,

all to be forgotten.

Well, that isn't
what it's meant to me.

No, Charles,
it's meant far more.

Your every word,
your every kiss,

your every caress,

I've treasured,
because I've always pretended

they belong to the man
I really love.

Now, that's something
for you to forget...

If you can.

That's fine.

Miss Heath? Too tired to go
through that scene again?

No, I'd love to.

I'm sorry --
I've got to beg off.

I'm all in.

You've got too much vitality
for me.

me too.
We'll call it off.

No rehearsal tomorrow --

we'll run through it again
at 10:00 Monday.

I don't like to work
on the day of the night we open,

but there's some things
I must change.

That's all.
Alright, boys.

Give me a cigarette.

Sure.
what do you think?

I've spent a fortune
and misspent a life in theater,

but this is the only time
on the Eve of a dress rehearsal,

I've had nerve enough
to say I had a hit.

You're pretty positive.

So positive that I'll buy
your piece of it for $100,000.

Oh, no! Here's one angel
that isn't afraid to tread.

I'm just as certain as you are.

Isn't she magnificent?

Even in rehearsal,

it's the greatest performance
I've ever seen.

With the stimulus
of an audience,

Monday night ought to make her
immortal in the theater.

what about that jinx?

Oh, momus himself couldn't jinx
a talent like that.

Like it?

Oh, it's alright, I guess.
Needs a lot of work, though.

Darling, if I could get away,
go down to the country,

and go over this on Sunday,
I'd get a better perspective.

Would you run me down tonight?

Certainly -- not a bad idea.
We'd better get underway.

I want to stop by the apartment
and get my clothes.

Alright.
goodnight.

Night.

Keep her out of the poison Ivy
and the fresh air.

I don't want her to open
in a whisper.

Darling.

We can't go on like this.

I could...Forever.

Don't be evasive, Joyce.
You know what I mean.

Getting married?

Well...of course,
sometime, darling.

But, uh, right now
there's the show to think of.

Joyce, you always find some
reason to change the subject.

Tell me the truth --
why are you putting me off?

Well, don't be so intense, Don.

You know I love you
and that there's no one else.

Isn't that enough?

No, it's not enough.

What's the matter?
Are you afraid to marry me?

Afraid? Why should I be?

I don't know,

unless marriage will make me
harder to get rid of.

Don't say that, Don.
Don't!

That night when you asked me
a month ago,

I told you I couldn't promise
you tomorrows.

I can now.

I love you enough
to give them all to you...

At least as many as you want.

Then we'll be married right
after the opening Monday night.

So soon?

If you meant what you said
just now, it wouldn't seem soon.

Well, I-i-it's not that,
Don, only --

only what?

Marriage seems to make
such an issue out of everything.

Why can't we wait a while?

I'm not going to trail after
you like a stage-door Johnny!

Make a sap out of myself

waiting for you
to get over a mood!

I want you,
but I'm through begging.

It's either Monday night
or never!

Well...
well, of course, darling.

Alright.

Alright, I'll marry you
Monday right after the show.

And we'll go down to the farm
for one glorious day

and I hope it rains
and washes the bridge

and the road and everything away
so we'll be marooned forever.

Put your arms around me.
Tell me you love me.

Look here, Joyce.
You're almost hysterical.

What's the matter?

Oh, nothing -- excitement,
nerves, worrying about the show.

Listen, I've changed my mind.
I'm very tired from rehearsing.

I'd rather go alone.
Would you lend me your car?

Well, sure, if you want,

but I hate to have you
driving alone at night.

Oh, don't be silly.

Now -- now,
be a good boy and --

and go now,
or you'll see me cry.

Hey, what's the matter?

N-nothing, I tell you,
but stage fright.

Go on now. There's always
a taxi out front.

Well, I can see that
the old Southern hospitality

and the artistic temperament
don't mix.

Goodnight, drive carefully

and leave the jitters
down there.

I got the bag all packed up
for you, honey.

Oh, put it down
and get out of here!

Yes'm.

Joyce.

I've hoped you'd come like this
so many times.

And you have, haven't you?

Yes, on business.

Oh.

I rather hate
to have you see my quarters.

I didn't come here
out of curiosity.

I think you'll find this one
more comfortable.

I shan't be here long enough
to find this one uncomfortable.

Cigarette?

No, thank you.

Still hate me, don't you?

No, Gordon, I don't.

There's an element
of respect in hate.

The only thing I have for you
is contempt.

You're very fortunate.

Contempt is much easier
to carry in your heart

than a love you can't destroy.

You do love me,
don't you, Gordon?

When a man ruins his life
for something,

it's liable to be pretty real.

I'm a bookkeeper now, Joyce,

in the company
that I used to own.

The worst of it is,
I can't hate you.

I don't suppose
you can understand that.

I never could before.
I do now.

You see, I love somebody
that way, too, Gordon.

Heaven help you.

Heaven help me if...
If you won't.

You want me to divorce you.

Oh, yes, Gordon.

I've told you time
and time again that I won't.

You're my wife --

something you'll never be
to any other man!

Being your husband
is the only thing I've got left,

and I won't lose it!

You'll be my wife
till the day I die!

Then I'll divorce you!

You can't, Joyce.

You haven't any grounds.
You never will have.

Gordon, I know
I've ruined your happiness,

but don't ruin mine.

If it's revenge you want,
I'll give it to you!

I'll beg, I'll crawl,
I'll do anything -- anything!

Gordon.
Gordon, look at me.

If you want to humiliate me,
you know how, but set me free.

Give me my one chance
at happiness.

Please, Gordon!

Please, please!

Oh, you cheap,
petty bookkeeper, you!

Every time I think that those
soft, sticky hands of yours

ever touched me,
it makes me sick!

Sick, do you hear?!

You're everything
that's repulsive to me!

Your wife!

I've never been a wife to you,
you poor, simpering fool!

If you were a man
instead of a drooling milksop,

you'd throw me out

and be ashamed to admit
you'd ever married me!

I guess I'm better protected
against you than I used to be.

Neither that nor what you said
seemed to hurt.

Gordon.

Gordon,
you can't still love me...

When you know how I feel.

Yes, I do.

And -- and you --

And I won't divorce you, no.

Gordon.

Gordon, I guess we are ordained
never to be happy,

so perhaps it would be better
to make the best of what we have

and try and find contentment
together.

That's all I'd ask,
Joyce...Ever.

I'm going down to the country
over the weekend.

Come along if you like.

May I, Joyce?

May I?
Mm-hmm.

Gordon, would nothing
in the world

induce you to divorce me?

Nothing.

Not even to save your life?

No.

Then we're going to settle
this thing once and for all.

If I can't have him,
I'd rather be dead.

It's either going to be
your life or mine.

Good!

We're coming to a tree
in the middle of the road.

We're taking it.
If you're killed, I'll be free.

If I'm killed,
it really doesn't matter.

If we both die, good riddance!

Good! You've taken
everything else but my life!

I don't want that without you!

Go ahead -- crash it!

Well, I heard a crash,
and I came a-running,

and then I saw miss Heath
and this fella,

and that's all I know.

Oh, I wonder how badly
the little thing is hurt.

Yeah, but how do you know
it was Joyce Heath?

Well, she's been staying
at Mr. bellows' farm.

I ought to know --
I'm his housekeeper.

Mr. bellows?

You mean Donald bellows,
the architect?

That's who I mean, and if you
want to know any more,

you better ask him yourself.

He should be here by now.
I phoned.

Yeah, thanks. It might be
a good idea to ask.

Listen, I need first aid.
I'm a reporter. I got a lead.

I don't want to use
the pay phone over there

'cause there's a bunch
of other reporters

hangin' around,
so can I use yours?

I suppose so.

Another Florence nightingale.

Hello. Get me rewrite.

Eddie? Listen, get this
and don't squeeze it,

because it'll squirt
in your eyes.

Yeah, juicy!

Joyce Heath, who's opening
the Sheffield show Monday,

was hurt in an auto accident
on Sherman road.

With her was
an as-yet-unidentified man.

The housekeeper for Don bellows,
socialite and architect,

just admitted that Joyce had
been living in his rural menage.

Bellows recently broke
his engagement to Gail Armitage

of the utterly utter armitages.

You better check that last,
and I'll call you back.

And get your bucket
and spade ready.

We're going to
dish up some dirt. Okay.

Well, uh, it's better
than collecting garbage.

It's not so heavy.

Pardon me.
Yes?

I'm Donald bellows.

What about miss Heath?
It isn't serious, is it?

Well, uh --
oh, there's the doctor now.

Doctor!

Doctor, this is Mr. bellows
about miss Heath.

How is she?
Badly shaken up --

suffering from shock
and a very slight concussion.

She may be on her feet
in a couple of weeks.

The man, however,
is very seriously hurt.

It may be more than a year
before he'll be able to walk.

What man?

Gordon Heath.

Gordon Heath?

Yes. He's been identified
as her husband.

Her husband?!

Mrs. Heath is conscious
if you would care to see her.

No, I don't want to see her.

Please see that they both get
every possible care.

Anything --
I'll be responsible.

I think you just
handed him one, doc.

But it'll sure look swell
in print.

Yes?

Oh, yes, Don.

We've got to open without her.

What else can I do?

The understudy --
and she'll put the show

right back on the truck
for Cain's warehouse.

Yes, she's jinxed you
out of $80,000,

me out of the best show
I ever had,

and herself out of a performance
that would have established her

as the greatest
American actress.

Sorry, old boy.

Yes?

Mr. Elmont is here.

You got here in a hurry.

It's important.
Yes?

Bellows, we're unable
to make the loan.

Not make it?

Why, I have almost
a million dollars in!

You can't sell me out!
I'm ready to start!

It's rumored
that you put $80,000

in a show that's doomed to fail.

Is that correct?

Fail? Yes, it'll fail,

but I can borrow that
someplace else.

Now, that's only a technicality.

We're forced to take advantage
of that technicality.

The board of directors,

most of whom
are socially prominent,

insist on it.

Would you mind being specific
instead of subtle?

They feel
that the type of people

who would have bought
the estates

are prejudiced against you.

In other words, they don't think
that you can sell them,

because they're going to
stop you.

Stop me?!
Those snobs?!

Well, they won't --
they or anybody else!

I've put 10 years in!

I've poured everything
I've earned into those estates!

I'm not going to lose them!

I'll get the money somewhere.

Well, I hope you do,

but I don't think you can.

Well, miss seals,

let's have the rest
of the unfinished business.

The Romer Cement Company called.

Ignore it.
We're not building anything.

Mr. Durell called,
and a Mr. Wilson.

And miss Heath
from the hospital.

She said it was urgent.

Yes, I guess that does come
under unfinished business.

Are you sure you called
his office? His home?!

Yes, dear. Don't worry --
everything will be alright.

It's not, I tell you --
it's not!

He couldn't let me lie here
like this unless he hated me!

Don!

You waited so long
to come and see me!

You blame me for what happened.

I knew you would.
That's why you didn't come.

Yes, I blame you.

Oh, don't say that, Don.
Don't.

It's the jinx --
I warned you.

I can't help it!
I can't!

You mean you can't help
being rotten and selfish?

You'd do anything to gain
your own desire and go on,

leaving somebody else to pay.

That's the jinx
you put on people.

I was willing
to sacrifice my life for you.

Is that selfishness?

Yes, because you were afraid
to risk losing me

by telling me you had a husband!

So instead, you lied,
and ruined me!

And your husband --
what it's cost him to love you!

You never paid for any happiness
in your whole life!

You owe for it!
It costs everybody else but you!

Well, I can't afford any more.

But there's one thing
I know --

if you're ever going to be
anything but a jinx,

you better start paying off,

because you're in debt
for the rest of your life!

Woman: Mrs. Heath...

I was just in
to see your husband.

He's been inquiring about you.

Oh, my husband...

Oh, yes, my husband.

I must get up today.

But you can't.
It's much too soon.

I must --

I-I've got some debts to pay.

Of course, you know to reopen
a play that has failed

and make a success of it
is next to impossible.

The play wasn't a failure.
The only failure was mine.

I can make that play a success.

You're quite confident.

More than confident --
I'm positive.

Why?

Four very distinct reasons --

any one of them
so important to me

that it makes failure
impossible.

First, I'm the only actress
suited to that part.

Second, Don must get
his money back.

Third, I have a husband

who's injured for life
because of me.

I must support him.

And last, but most important,

I found out
how to break my jinx --

paying my debts.

Are you strong enough
to start rehearsing Monday?

Yes.

I've got to be.

Monday morning at 10:00, then.

Monday morning at 10:00.

Thanks so much.

Pardon the coincidence.

It's not a coincidence, Joyce.
I've been looking for you.

They told me you'd come here.
I want to talk to you.

You were very frank

the last time we talked
together.

Everything I said was the truth.

Well, let me be just as frank
and just as honest --

you're no longer important
to me.

Your importance ended
when the show closed.

You mean I was just
a means to an end?

Why not call it that?

How cheap!

No!

I-I'm rather expensive!

Remember what it cost you!

Darling...

Darling...

oh, darling. Oh, darling!