All language subtitles for Designing Woman (1957).DVDRip

My name's Mike Hagen.

I'm a sportswriter.

If you read the papers,
maybe you've heard of me.

I was involved in that ruckus up in Boston.

A lot of people have asked me
for the facts about that affair.

I certainly have no objection
to telling my side of it.

Still, the story wouldn't be complete...

...unless you heard from some
of the others involved, like...

...Marilla.

I imagine Marilla
might have something to say.

I have a good deal to say.

Not only about my side of it,
but about Mike's, too.

Because Mike doesn't always tell the truth.

Not that he means to lie or anything,
but, well, you have to know Mike.

Then, of course, there's someone else...

...who could shed considerable light
on things...

...if she will.

I'm Lori Shannon.
I really have very little to tell.

I was involved, of course,
but in quite an innocent way.

Not everybody believed that.

But I'm sure Zachary Wilde does.

Look, frankly,
I'd like to keep out of the whole mess.

However, there is another witness.
A man named Maxie Stulz.

I'm sure he could be very informative.

Yeah, I want to tell everything I know,
the whole truth.

Because I was always a good standup boy.
Honest fighter.

I was champion for three years.
I'm making a comeback now.

So...

...I want to tell everything I know,
everything.

Let me think now.

I don't know anything.

The whole thing began out in Beverly Hills,
the night of the California lnvitational...

...a golf tournament.

I'd picked Johnny Strawn
in the sportswriters' Calcutta...

...a sort of lottery.
And l'd won myself $1,200.

So I was buying that night and feeling fine.

Just fine.

Hey, Mike. I want to ask Mike.
Come here.

Mike, tell the guy about the guy
that wears the glasses and the umpire....

I say Johnny Strawn will be the best golfer
in America in 10 years.

What do you think of that?

I was feeling just fine the next morning.

It was noon.

I'd been up about half an hour...

...showering, shaving and breakfasting
on a small tin of aspirin.

Nothing helped.

Let's see now.

Up until 10:00 the night before,
everything was crystal clear.

I was having some drinks
with some newspaper friends...

...celebrating the $1,200 l'd won.

$1,200.

All I had now was three $10s
and a handful of silver.

Going down.

Some newspapermen drink too much.

Hi, boy.

Hi, Larry.

- How do you feel?
- Yeah.

How did you handle the story yesterday?

The story. The California Invitational.
Remember?

You didn't forget to file your copy?

Since when have I ever forgotten
to file my copy?

There's always a first time.

My copy. Had I forgotten it?
A lead flashed in front of my eyes.

"Johnny Strawn...

...the Gill-Sized Giant of Golfdom...

...Smashes His Way to Victory
With a Sizzling 66."

Had I written those words somewhere,
sometime?

Had I dreamed them?

Miss.

- Yes, sir?
- I'd like to see a copy of a long wire...

...that I sent to The New York Record
late last night or 2:00 or 3:00 this morning.

- Are you sick, mister?
- The wire, please.

Yes, sir.

Well, let's see: The New York Times,
The New York Herald Tribune.

The New York Record.

The greatest golf story of the decade,
and l'd fluffed it.

My career was ruined.

Coffee. That's what I needed, coffee.

Seven or eight pots of coffee,
in a quiet locale...

...where I could think up a good lie
for my editor.

Coffee. Please.

There he was.

My character of the night before.
Mr. Michael Hagen.

I thought he saw me, too,
so I gave him a friendly wave.

My character seemed
a little subdued this morning.

It never occurred to me
that my character...

...didn't have the slightest idea who I was.

Well.

- Good morning. How do you feel?
- Great. Tiptop.

Did you sleep all right?

Fine, I'm not even awake yet.

Your eyes are red.

I bathed them in Alka-Fizz.

Well, anyway, it's a beautiful morning.

Look. Isn't it lovely?

May I make a suggestion?

Why don't you jump into a swimsuit
and take a quick plunge?

- May I make a suggestion?
- What?

You take a plunge.

Sorry.
I guess you're not feeling very sociable.

Here, I've been waiting all morning.

Why? What's that?

$700. You gave it to me.

- When?
- Last night.

- What for?
- You liked me.

- That much, huh?
- Now.

- Here, you keep it.
- Don't be ridiculous.

- I gave it to you, it's yours.
- Please.

If I gave it to you, I must have meant it...

- Call for Mr. Hagen.
- Just a minute.

- Boy.
- Yes, sir?

- If you think...
- Mr. Hagen? New York is calling.

- Where?
- You can take it in that booth there.

Now, listen, Mr. Hagen. Listen....

I had to stay, if only to straighten
Mr. Hagen out on a few facts.

- Mike Hagen here.
- Mr. Hagen?

Ned Hammerstein
of The New York Record calling.

Yeah, put him on.

- Hello, Mike?
- Hello, Ned. Listen, about that copy.

I can't understand what happened.
I spoke to Western Union...

Never mind about the copy.
You're in a little trouble, boy.

What do you mean, trouble?
I'm trying to explain why my copy...

Forget it. The copy was okay. Now, look.

You mean you liked my copy?
The copy that I sent? Last night?

Yes, it was all right.
Now what is the matter with you?

Nothing, Ned. Everything is great.

Well, everything is not so great back here.

That column you did on Mart Daylor
and the fight racket.

He was here twice about a retraction,
he's plenty burned.

Fine, fine. Good morning.

- Are you listening to me?
- Certainly. Why?

I want to remind you, my friend...

...that Mart Daylor knows
some very influential people.

Especially a bevy of thugs...

...who'd like to see you laid out in an alley
with your face bashed in.

Okay, great, I'll take care of it right away.
You liked my copy?

Yes, I told you twice! I liked the copy!

Okay, all right, Ned. Bye-bye.

I was a new man.

My hangover was gone. I felt like singing.

I loved the whole world and all its people.

I would even, I decided, be nice
to that ugly girl who'd been annoying me.

It must have been a different girl.

Well, how would you like some breakfast?
Waiter.

A breakfast menu, please.

I'd like to apologize for the way I acted.
I was a little revved up about something.

There was a story that I was supposed
to send to New York and I was afraid....

It's nothing that would interest you much.
It was a story that...

You mean the "Johnny Strawn,
the Gill-Sized Giant of Golfdom" story?

- How did you know?
- We wrote it together. The two of us.

Where?

In a very small and quite dirty bar and grill
about 40 miles north.

- You wired the story from Santa Barbara.
- Then that's when.... That's why...

That's when you gave me $700.

- I'm sorry.
- It's all right.

- What happened after that?
- Nothing.

We drove home and I took you
to your door about 6:00.

- You really don't remember?
- Go on.

Well, nothing.

You shook my hand and told me
if I was ever in New York...

...to look you up and you'd find me a spot
in the sports-writing field.

All right. When can you start?

I really wrote it?

- Including that "Gill-Sized Giant of..."
- Well, actually that phrase was my idea.

- I'm glad.
- I thought it was rather good.

- Where did we meet, anyway?
- Right over there at the bar.

Then I was at Mrs. Herrington's
when you came in with friends.

Yeah, Mrs. Herrington.

- Yes.
- Yeah. Who's Mrs. Herrington?

We began to laugh.
Three hours later, we were still laughing.

- How about dinner?
- I'm afraid not.

I'm on a 6:00 plane to New York.
Thanks anyway, though.

Here, you earned it.
By helping me write the story.

- Now, let's not play that again.
- No, you saved my job.

Please.

Okay, we'll spend it.
That's the only way to settle things.

Every penny, take a couple of days doing it.

- If that isn't the silliest...
- After all, we worked hard.

- We're entitled to relaxation, both of us.
- I don't need relaxation.

- You work, don't you?
- Of course.

- We'll spend it together, have a real ball.
- I couldn't possibly.

Nobody knows how to live anymore.
We're too busy to enjoy ourselves.

You know where you are right now?

- Well, just offhand...
- California, the playground of the West.

It's all around us: The mountains,
the desert, Marineland, the Pacific Ocean.

- Don't forget the Pacific Ocean.
- I won't.

Tell me, have you ever sailed
in a small boat way out on the ocean...

...with the salt spray in your face
and the wind in your hair?

- No. Have you?
- Certainly not, do you think I'm crazy?

But I'd be willing to try.

- Come on.
- No, I couldn't. I couldn't possibly.

During the next four days,
we hardly made a dent in Mike's $700...

...because all we did was lie around
and yak it up.

- What's that?
- A sketch for a dress.

- That's what I do, design clothes.
- For a living?

Well, what do you know?

That's why I must get back to New York
tonight. That's why....

For heaven's sake,
do you realize I haven't packed yet?

I'm sorry.

- Please, Mike, I've really got to rush.
- Wait.

We have things to see:
Marineland, the porpoises.

We haven't seen them feed the porpoises.

Mike, it's out of the question.
I can't possibly. Come on.

Welcome to Marineland of the Pacific,
the world's largest oceanarium.

I can't remember who first brought up
the subject of love.

It certainly doesn't sound like me.

One minute I was experting
on the care and feeding of porpoises...

...and the next thing I knew,
we were talking about love. lts symptoms.

I eat like a fool. When I'm in love, I mean.

My friends told me they couldn't swallow
a morsel, but I eat like a fool.

With that boy from Yale,
some time ago, of course...

...I gained eight pounds.
And then there was a certain artist.

It was two years
before I got back to normal.

I just eat and eat and eat.

Just a cup of cold consomm�, please.

And maybe the tiniest bit of that pompano.

And a large lobster salad and....

Oh dear, you have trout.

- Will you have both?
- All right.

Then for dessert....

I felt the blush coming from my waist up.
Mike was staring at me.

But he knew it as well as I did.
I was in love with my character.

How about it?

- Mike?
- We're adults.

We know what we're doing.

I couldn't, Mike.

She did, though.
We were married that night, in Arizona.

Do you, Marilla, take Michael
to be your lawfully wedded husband...

...to love and to cherish....

After a honeymoon of exactly
20 and a half hours, we flew to New York...

...our arms locked the whole way.

Except for breakfast.
Marilla needed two hands for that.

Ladies and gentlemen, it's expected...

...we will land in New York
on scheduled time, which will be 9:10.

- One hour. Where do you live, anyway?
- 74th Street.

We'll stop at my place first. It's closer.

Then we'll hop a cab and get your stuff.

- Cab? What about my furniture?
- Well, give it away.

Can't live in two places.

It was a wonderful trip.

But a few minutes out of New York,
a strange thing happened.

Marilla changed her clothes.

Sorry, madam, this seat is taken.

I may have to stop by the office.
My working clothes.

This was just the first
in a series of wardrobe changes...

...which never failed to amaze me.

Believe me, this kid changed her clothes
nine times a day.

We went to Mike's apartment first.

Just outside the door
he suddenly got embarrassed.

Maybe I bragged too much
about this place.

- It's not the Taj Mahal or anything.
- Let me see.

It's comfortable, that's what I'd say.
You'll love it.

Open up.

Take a look.

I took a look.

First thing I thought of
was my little brother's shoebox...

...in which he used to keep
all his possessions.

Old string and marbles
and bits of colored glass.

The prospect of taking up
permanent residence in the shoebox...

...was somewhat unnerving.
But I didn't want to hurt Mike's feelings.

He was so proud of everything.

Opening off the shoebox
was a door leading to another shoebox...

...which I assumed was the bedroom.

The apartment wasn't really
at its best that day.

Things seemed a little out of place.

One thing in particular.

What else could I say?

When it's cleaned up a little,
with new curtains and...

...the right kind of pictures...

...it'll be a real hellhole.

- We'll move tomorrow.
- Mike.

Just for tonight,
we'll stay at my place, all right?

Yeah.

I guess I never looked at this trap before.

Hello. Yeah, Ned, I'm back. The office.

I can't get down right now, I'm busy.
I've got a....

- That's all right, go ahead.
- What?

Look, I've been threatened before.
Don't worry about the...

All right, yeah.

Right away.

How do you like that?
I'm back in town 20 minutes.

That's all right.
I've got plenty to do here anyway.

- Mike?
- What?

- You're not in any trouble or anything?
- You mean that? No.

What's the matter?

It's just occurred to me.
I don't know you very well, do I?

But well enough.

Maybe.

How about this? Our first parting.

Sad.

I think I'll stay.

For the next hour or so,
I packed Mike's marbles and bits of glass...

...singing happily.

Until I came across a picture of a girl.

Well, I guess it was a girl.

She was certainly in an odd position.

I wasn't worried, of course.
Just interested.

I wanted to see
what a lady contortionist looked like.

Nothing.

All I knew was that she had straight teeth
and the kind of expansion...

...men seemed to favor.

I measured it mentally against my own,
came off a bad second...

...and tore her carefully into small pieces.

At the office, I was the target
of the usual ribbing and laughter...

...associated with holy matrimony.

Luke Coslow, the office boy,
came up with a real side-splitter.

Quiet.

Here you are, old man. Ready-made.
Saves time and trouble.

Bachelor days are gone forever now.

But I must say, my editor,
Ned Hammerstein, was very sentimental.

You're eight days late.

I'll take it off your vacation,
provided you get one.

Meanwhile, if you got nothing to do,
cover the fight next week.

Folks in town would like to know about it.

Speaking of fights, you've got a sweet one
on your hands with Mart Daylor.

- What's his beef?.
- Your column, March 16, this year.

"The great Martin Daylor, calling himself a
fight promoter is promoting mostly Daylor.

He has a string on every fighter
and manager in New York.

Nobody fights without his permission
and without paying his cut.

I suggest that Mr. Daylor retire
to his palatial farm in Bucks County...

...before an irate sports world retires him
forcibly to the crooked boys' bin."

What are you bucking for, a quick funeral?

This isn't the roaring '20s. People don't...

- Daylor would like that.
- Take a murder rap? He's too smart.

Who mentioned murder?

All that would happen is,
you're walking along Third Avenue...

...a truck jumps the curb.
An accident, nobody's fault in the world.

But you're cooling off on the pavement,
so you can't be sure.

All right.

What do you want me to do?

- Print a retraction?
- I don't care what you do.

What am I, a sentimental slob?
Do what you want.

Just make sure your by-line
doesn't appear in the obit column.

Okay, Ned.

Wait.

Here.

From Nora and me. A wedding present.

- From Nora and...
- Well, from Nora.

You liked it at the house,
she thought you could use it.

I didn't have time to put paper.
Get it wrapped and send the bill to me.

Ned.

- I can't tell...
- No speeches.

Come on, get it out of here, it's in my way.

Phone calls for Mr. Michael Hagen.

Mart Daylor.

Lori Shannon.

I hadn't thought of her once in eight days.

When I did now, it didn't feel so good.

I was speaking of Lori Shannon...

...the girl you are probably worried about.

However, since you've retired
from the field...

...you might inform Miss Shannon
of a handsome, young newspaperman...

...who would be very,
very happy to substitute at any...

Very funny.

Very funny.

1 1:00 a.m.
She was probably still at her TV rehearsal.

"There'll be a change in the weather

and a change in the sea.

From now on there'll be a change in me.

My walk will be different,

my talk and my name.

Nothing about me's goin' be the same.

I'm gonna change my way of living.

If that ain't enough

Then I'll change the way I

strut my stuff.

Because nobody wants you
when you're old and gray.

There'll be some changes made today.

There'll be some changes made."

He arrived about noon,
my Lochinvar from out of the west.

Come to tell me about his marriage.

He stood there,
like he was awaiting his execution.

He was nice and tan
after his California vacation.

Healthy-looking, too.

Of course, he'd only been married
for a day and a half.

"Nobody

wants you when you're old and gray.

There'll be some changes made today.

There'll be some changes made"

- Hello, Mike.
- Hello, Lori.

- How have you been?
- Quite well.

- How are you?
- I've been quite well.

- You look well.
- I feel....

- Where are we going, on a picnic?
- No. This is a....

My boss, Ned Hammerstein....

- Look, how about lunch?
- I'd love it.

It'll just take me a minute
to change clothes.

We went to Andrucci's, our old hangout.

And we ordered our old favorite.

Ravioli Andrucci.

He hadn't gotten around
to confessing his marriage...

...and was making a botch
of the small talk.

...when I walked into the office.
Everyone....

Ned is the same Simon Legree....

He was so pathetic, I had to help him out.

- Look, I've got something to tell you.
- Let me tell you, Mike.

You found a girl.
The most wonderful girl in the world.

The kind of girl
you just couldn't live without...

...and you married her. That's all.

- I knew you'd understand.
- Why shouldn't I?

There's no point in making a federal case
out of something that couldn't be helped.

I'd have probably done the same thing
myself, if I'd found the right man.

I thought because I didn't send....

He was as grateful as a St. Bernard,
and I felt generous...

...and warm-hearted inside.
It was a good scene.

But then I made a mistake.
I asked him to tell me about her.

And he made a bigger mistake.
He told me.

She's not like anyone else I know....

I heard all about her eyes,
and her hair, and her figure...

...and the way she walked.

I heard all about her fine sense of humor
and her clothes...

...and the cute way she had
of tilting her head when she laughed.

...tossing her head when she laughs,
sort of like a pony.

After a while, I knew her like a sister.

Anyway, I'm so glad that you understand.

Why shouldn't I?

Well, I guess I'd better be getting back
to rehearsal.

- You don't mind if I don't get up?
- Please don't.

- Mr. Hagen, you didn't get your lunch.
- Yeah, I got it.

- Why haven't you served Mr. Hagen?
- But I brought it.

- Where is it?
- I don't know.

Bring him another.

- Would you like to have something else?
- No. That'll be plenty.

Just get me a check and a pair of pants.

A pair of pants?

Look, don't make a fuss.
Borrow me a pair of pants from somebody.

No fuss.

- How did it happen?
- A lady did it.

- Borrow the pants.
- Yes, sir.

- Are you sure? I'm Mr. Hagen's wife.
- I still don't think he's here.

Yes, he is. I just remembered.

- This way, please.
- Thank you.

He's right over there.

Well, what a small world.

You don't mind if I don't get up?

- Shy about kissing in public?
- No.

Your office told me you might be here
and I wanted to see you anyway.

Big news: I've got everything moved.

Zach Wilde sent over a car
and the janitor carried your bags down.

That's fine. I'm glad.

I got a pair of pants for you
in the men's room.

I'd have sworn you had pants on
when you left.

What's that?

That? That's ravioli.

Of course. I should have recognized it.
Didn't you care for it?

Yes, it's very good here.

It certainly doesn't go with gray.

It's the busboy's pants. Green ones.

I'm going into the men's room now
and change into the busboy's green pants.

And then we'll go up to my place
and pick up a suit.

You haven't been listening.
Your clothes are at my place.

Yes. Fine.

- You shouldn't have done it.
- I'm sorry.

I'd have wagered a Lily Dach� hat
there'd been another woman at that table.

But I wasn't going to ruin my second day
of marriage with petty jealousies.

For some reason, l'd pictured Marilla
living in a one-room kitchenette...

...with a girlfriend who studied music.

This place even had an outside flunky.

Very refined.

Here we are.

He tried not to notice my pants,
and I tried not to notice his.

Well? Say something.

Chic.

Chic.

That's a word I've never used before,
but now I know what it means.

Miss Brown. Congratulations, Miss Brown.

Mrs. Hagen, Gwen. And this is Mr. Hagen.

- Mr. Hagen, it's certainly a pleasure.
- How do you do?

Don't worry about his pants, Gwen.
He borrowed them.

Of course he did. Wouldn't you know?

- Get these to the cleaners, will you?
- Sure.

Be careful. You might find some ravioli
in the pockets.

And here.

Put this in a place of honor.
Our first wedding present.

Oh, no, it isn't. It's the second.

- Well, what do you mean?
- Look.

A coffee table!

I don't have to read it, I know.

"You always wanted this table,
but you wouldn't marry me to get it...

...so, here with all my love.
Zachary Wilde."

He always wanted me to marry him.

I figured. Tell me, how soon can I punch
Zachary Wilde in the snoot?

- What's on your mind?
- Guess.

You're gonna bite me on the ear again?

Don't you like it?

It's a very strange,
but pleasurable sensation.

Mike.

Surprise!

Surprise!

Surprise!

Congratulations.

Where did you snare the man?

And how? That's what I want to know.

This is my husband, Michael Hagen.

Fred Sellers, Marie Dozier,
Dottie Weaves, Florrie Canfield, Mr. Orjac.

My husband.

Ann Ashmond, Jennifer Dean,
Jeff Dowling...

...Pauline Beaton, Sheldon Stevens.

This is Michael.

All right, sweetheart, let's get it over with.
Congratulations.

Let's have the whole story,
right from the beginning.

Old-fashioned romance....

Congratulations, darling.

Darling, congratulations.

I can't stick around. I've got a show
in rehearsal. You know how it is.

Usually I'm a little more presentable,
but I was having lunch today...

That's my monkey!

It was really very amusing.

I spilled something,
and this little Italian waiter...

The pig. That's the one I got Marilla.

I figured if I put on my new suit,
maybe I could join the club.

I couldn't.

I guess I didn't speak the language.

Are you telling me about fashion shows?

- Whose is it?
- Mine.

Here.

Can't get a tumble here
unless you're gift-wrapped.

I see you changed your pants.

Thanks. And you're the only one
who's noticed.

There must be quite a story
someplace in those pants.

A pretty dull one, I'm afraid.

If there's one thing I can't stand,
it's a surprise party.

Listen to them. If I were you,
I'd throw them all out, myself included.

Who are they?

Now, let's see. There's one actor,
one playwright, one composer...

...two actresses, a television director.

And the old bag in the blue dress
is Jennifer Dean, a designer.

The excitable type arguing with her
is Christopher Matthew, also a designer.

Known on his labels as "Mr. Chris."

I think that's about all.
Oh, yes, and one theatrical producer.

I liked this guy right away.
Nice fellow. Trim. Distinguished.

I've been after Marilla
to design a show for me.

You think you could talk her into it?

I can try.

Say, in all the excitement,
I missed your name.

Wilde. Zachary Wilde.

Sure. Zachary Wilde.

I felt like taking his coffee table and
cracking him right over the head with it.

My idiot friends stayed till almost 7:00.

I gave Gwen the night off
and cooked dinner with my own lily hands.

I was jittery about Mike's reaction
to the apartment.

I wanted to balance things
with a show of domesticity.

You're loaded?

Just prodigal. This place keeps me broke.

There was the inheritance from Dad.
It's all gone now.

- Where do you come from?
- That's a funny question. St. Louis.

Miss Brown of the St. Louis Browns.

How did you hear of us?
We weren't that rich.

I didn't. It used to be a baseball team.

I was making a joke.

It's a shock, you know.

You marry a nice girl out in California.
You think it might be quite a treat for her.

You take the little girl East,
show her the big city...

...let her meet a few people.

Then you find out she knows all of
New York, and owns a sizeable chunk of it.

It's a shock. Bad for the ego.

- Why didn't you tell me?
- You didn't ask.

I didn't ask
if you were a second baseman...

...but if you had been,
I'd expect you to confide in me.

All right, I didn't want to tell you.

Why should I?

I've been shopping for you for a long time.
I didn't want to lose you on a technicality.

You live like this just from drawing
those little pictures? Designing?

Except when men give me $700.

I make jokes, too.

You like this place?

I always thought I did.
I hoped you'd like it, too.

That's why I tricked you
into spending the night here.

And you like designing clothes?

I love designing clothes.

It's a silly, ridiculous business
and it pays far too much money.

And you meet silly,
ridiculous people and I love it.

Not the people, the job.

And what's more,
if you don't like this place...

...let's get out of it.
It's just too much, isn't it?

We'll go to your place.
Or we'll sleep in the subway. I don't care.

If you think you'll worm out of this
on an incompatibility charge...

...you can start thinking over again!

You're not crying?

No, but I'm considering it very seriously.

Now, slow down.

It's not a bad place.

Some people might consider it
a very livable place.

Throw in a couple of rubber plants,
and an autographed Yankee ball...

...and you'd be surprised.

A fellow could be very snug here.

Oh, Mike.

Now, it's okay.

Cut it out.

Everything's fine.

Compatible?

Compatible.

Do you smell something burning?

It's just the sauce...

...for the ravioli.

For a whole month,
we were as happy as birds.

I didn't know anything
about the designing business...

...and she didn't know anything
about sports.

During the day, we lived in two
separate worlds, about five miles apart.

And at night, we made a world of our own.

Yeah, it was a wonderful month.

I gained six pounds.

The fights?

I've never been to the fights, Mike.
I'd love to.

I can't make up my mind which one.

The mill has to know.
They're still on the telephone.

Just a minute, please.

What? I said I'd love to go, Mike.
Where do I meet you?

Try that over the shoulder.

What? Gotham Arena. Fine.
Mike, what do I wear?

What do the other women wear to fights?

All right, I'll figure out something.
8:30. 'Bye.

Now, let's see.

All right, I'll take this one.

She's decided.
Hello, she's decided on 4-1 7-X.

If I could have just one minute?

Please, I've got this fashion show
just staring me in the face.

I realize your problem.
I have one, too. A musical show.

Bright, witty, modern...

...now highly expensive, since I'm waiting
for a designer to make up her mind.

It's more than just my mind.

What would the store think?
I'm just an employee here, you know.

Besides, I've never done theatrical designs.

That's why I want you.

You'll be fresh, different.
It needs your high style.

I don't know.

Randy's supposed to put the numbers
in work next week.

He can't move unless he has some idea
what the wardrobe will be.

- Zach, I just don't know.
- I agree with her 100�/�.

- What?
- You just don't know.

- Randy!
- I love Marilla, I love her work.

- But not for this. She's all wrong.
- Oh, really!

Designing a musical show, my pet,
is not done over the weekend.

- You just can't toss it off.
- But I'm not trying...

I have ideas, you know.

And above all, any wardrobe designed
for this show has got to dance.

- Look, I'm not asking to do this.
- Look at this!

Beautiful! Wonderful design!

As long as she stands like this.

But can she do this?

Don't tell me it's impossible.
Nothing's impossible.

- Who said that?
- The bongo number.

I have no idea what I may do
with the bongo number.

I may go completely insane.

And if I do, I want the clothes
to go completely insane with me.

I admire your honesty
in admitting you can't do it.

- I haven't admitted anything.
- We have five weeks.

- She couldn't learn in five years.
- I could do it in five days.

- Will you?
- Yes!

Good.

We got what we came for.
May we leave now?

When can we get together?

Zach, please give me a few days.
I've got the fashion show.

I want to have a reading of the play
for you creative minds.

How about Wednesday night?

- I'll have the others.
- Zach, will you please get him out?

- Wednesday night.
- Yeah, Wednesday night.

- Randy?
- I don't think I'll do a bongo number.

Did I ever tell you the idea....

Let's tear this up and start all over again.
Tear it apart.

Two, three...

...four, five....

I'll say one thing:

Marilla was the best-dressed fight fan
the seconds had ever seen.

Hi, girl.

Am I late? I'm sorry.

That jersey print came in
and I had to tell them how to cut it.

- How are you?
- Fine.

- Who's winning?
- Galatos. It's a slaughter.

Give it to him!
Where did you get that thing?

Who told you, you could fight,
you groundhog?

How are you, Mike? Congratulations.

- Thanks.
- You didn't return my call.

Calls, Mr. Daylor. About 20 of them.

I read again yesterday
that I'm a very disreputable character.

What was that phrase?
"A hydra-headed monster"?

"Feeding with all nine mouths
on the boxing game."

My boy at Princeton was quite upset.
They don't appreciate that at Princeton.

- He can switch to Harvard.
- Be reasonable.

I'm a family man.
I've got a lot of responsibilities.

I admit I take a dollar or two
under the table, but I pay all my taxes.

- I don't kick dogs.
- Just people, huh?

Throw the bums out of the ring!

Joey Yustick shouldn't be within 10 miles
of a prize ring and you know it.

He gets his brains loosened
every time he climbs in there.

But he pays you extra dues,
so you see to it he gets plenty of action.

He's over 21 .

He's over 41, Mr. Daylor.
Read about it tomorrow.

Mike, some day you'll wake up
and find your typewriter smashed.

Throw the referee out!

I'm Mrs. Hagen.
Mike is forgetful sometimes.

- It's a pleasure. I'm Martin Daylor.
- How do you do?

Martin Daylor?
I know I've seen that name someplace.

Aren't you the man
Mike's been writing about in his column?

I'm the man.

- I hope you enjoy the fights, Mrs. Hagen.
- Thank you.

- Good night.
- Good night.

How did I know?
He certainly doesn't look like a crook.

I'd never take him for a crook.

How many crooks have you known?

A new side of Mike. A man in a huff.

He didn't want to talk,
so I had to watch the fight, too.

It was awful.

One of the men, the older one,
was being punched constantly.

You wouldn't think they'd get hit so much
with those heavy gloves on.

The gloves are to protect their hands.

Mike, sarcasm doesn't become you.

No, it's true.
The gloves are to protect their hands.

All right, if that's the way you want to be.

I don't think I like fights.

A lot of people do.

Not all of them.
To some people it's very boring.

Boring?

Look at those people.
They're reading newspapers.

They're not reading.

They hold them that way
in case the blood splatters.

That was all I needed.

Mike, take me out of here.

- Are you okay?
- I'm fine. I'm sorry, Mike.

That's all right.

Come summer,
I'll take you to the tennis matches.

- Mike, boy.
- Not now, Charlie.

Mike, I got a little something for you.
Got a slice of information.

- Tomorrow.
- It's a very warm slice, Mike.

I could let you have it
for a Ulysses S. Grant.

I haven't got...

Two Andrew Jacksons might do the trick.

- No.
- I got the shorts real bad, Mike.

- No.
- How about a Lincoln?

- Not even a Lincoln?
- Charlie...

I'm desperate. Three Washingtons.

Here. Now, go away, please.

- Don't you even want the hot slice?
- No. Thanks, Charlie.

Mike. You're people.

- Who is he, Mike?
- That's Charlie Arneg.

He's also known as "Charlie the Sneak."
He peddles information.

- What kind of information?
- Any. Charlie's not fussy.

What was all that talk about
Ulysses S. Grant and Andrew Jackson?

Ulysses S. Grant is a $50 bill.

- It is?
- It's got Grant's picture on it.

Andrew Jackson's $20, Lincoln is $5...

- Washington is $1 .
- That's right.

Very interesting. But why does he do it?

He's trying to get
into a Damon Runyon story, who knows?

Mike, you're working. Go on back.
I'll wait right here.

- No, no.
- Please, I'll be fine.

I'm really perfectly fine. Now, you go on.

Well, okay.

I'll come back to see you between fights.

- Hey, Mike.
- Larry, boy.

- What's the matter, you quitting?
- No.

- My place next week, okay?
- Okay.

That's Larry Musso. You'll meet him.

I invited the regular crowd
for poker next Wednesday.

Wednesday?

- Anything wrong with that?
- No. That's fine. Just fine.

The show crowd was coming
that night, too.

It started out a bad evening,
and worsened steadily.

Play cards. Play cards.

- What are they doing in there?
- Reading a play.

Who's reading it, Jack Benny?

"Ronnie appears at the top of the steps:

'Aunt Agatha, she's done it again."'

Boy, this is one I have to see.

Play cards.

This is where I want to do
the undersea ballet.

You can't do an undersea ballet.

Why not?

Because you're still
in the drawing room set.

- It has doors, doesn't it?
- Yes, but...

That's all we need.
Behind closed doors anything can happen.

It's the basis of all my work.

The entrance of the unexpected.
A closed door.

When this door opens,
anything can come through.

Sea horses.

I'll get the sandwiches.

Aces.

- How's the game going, dear?
- Yeah.

- Did you want something?
- Well, yeah. The food, if it's ready.

I'm sure it is.

- Everybody ante?
- I'm in.

I'll get it. You go and play, dear.

Fred deals the cards.

- Mike Hagen live here? The poker game.
- Mike Hagen? Yes.

Thank you. My name's Maxie Stulz.
I'm his best friend.

Yes. Mike.

- You Mrs. Hagen, lady?
- Yes...

Then I'll tell you something.
Don't worry, you know?

Any time anybody make trouble,
you tell Maxie Stulz.

I take care of him good, right?

So you got nothing to worry about.
Nothing, right? Where's the game?

In there.

- Hello, boys.
- Hi, Maxie.

How you been? Glad you could make it.

I feel pretty good, Mr. Hagen.
I'm making a comeback, you know.

You're the boy that can do it, Maxie.

And Solly Horzmann's gonna manage me,
right, Solly?

Sure, like I told you. Sit down, Maxie.

- Deal me in.
- Okay.

Who is he?

- Who?
- That man with no nose.

- He has a nose. It's inside.
- But who is he?

That's Maxie Stulz. He used to be
middleweight champ. He's punchy.

- What?
- Punchy. Punch-drunk.

We let him sit in for a couple of hands
every Wednesday. We make sure he wins.

- It takes care of his room rent.
- That's very sweet.

He's not going to hit anybody, is he?

- Why would he hit anybody?
- I don't know.

Told me not to worry about trouble.
I don't know what not to worry about.

- What is it?
- Nothing. I told you he's punchy.

- Just forget it, will you?
- I'll try.

Nice work, Maxie. Nice work.

How about that?
He wins on a pair of nines.

- That's a pretty good hand, right?
- They don't come any better, Maxie.

- We put you in for $5, Mike.
- Fine.

I better go 'cause I got roadwork
in the morning.

No, one more hand, come on.

There are two possibilities....

- Mike, can I see you for a minute?
- Yeah, sure.

Play cards!

Sorry, but where would you like to eat?
In here?

Sure, anyplace. What's that?

It's one of Gwen's creations.
A "poker loaf," she calls it.

Yeah, but, I asked for bologna
and cheese and stuff, you know?

Well, it's all cheese
and there's bologna in the middle.

Okay.

They don't seem to be going.

Let's just take the food and the poker table
and move them to the study.

- Then you won't be disturbed, all right?
- Fine.

Give me a hand here,
we're gonna move in there.

What for?
Come on, just pick up your stuff.

Cream cheese and olives.

Hey, you know, I tried one of those once.
Gave me gas.

I was reading an article the other day...

...where you can buy these cutters
for card parties...

...and you can make sandwiches
in the shape of clubs, hearts, and spades.

- Diamonds, too?
- Absolutely. You take this thing...

If you don't like it, don't eat it. In there.

I'm sorry.

These people here,
are they friends of Mike?

Why, yes, of course.

Nobody's gonna make trouble? I don't...

No, they're close friends. Very close.

That's good.
'Cause I don't like trouble, you know.

Every time there's trouble, my head....
I don't like it.

There's never any trouble around here.
Never.

Just put it over there by the table.
That's right. Thanks.

- I had one fight too many, you know.
- I'm sorry.

Yeah, I was fighting Tony Bleney and....
You see that eye?

I got 16 stitches in that eye.

In the eighth round, Tony opened it up
and the blood poured down. I couldn't see.

In the tenth, he opened up the other eye.

The blood came down
and I couldn't see at all.

- What's the matter?
- Nothing. Excuse me.

- Enough of that one. Let's try this.
- Come on, let's get going.

You take a chair, I'll take the glasses.

Maybe I'll be luckier in here.

I don't want to move furniture.
I came here to play cards.

By 12:00 everyone had gone.

I had a feeling there might be words...

...but I decided firmly
they would not originate with me.

Well, well. Six Washingtons.
What's that for?

Sandwiches.
We split the expenses every week.

If you play at a different house each week...

...why doesn't the host take care
of the sandwiches?

It would all even up in the end.

We do it this way
because we like it this way.

Yes, there were going to be words,
all right.

It'll be done the same way
six weeks from tonight...

...when the game comes around here again.

So, in six weeks...

...l'll have the pleasure of meeting
that man with no nose again.

I was going to say so,
but repressed myself quickly.

So, in six weeks I'll have the pleasure
of meeting that man with no nose again.

What's the matter?
You have something against Maxie Stulz?

Of course not.

He's a poor, unfortunate,
punchy-drunk man.

I feel very sorry for him.

But you could do better
by sending him to a good psychiatrist.

I don't know a good psychiatrist,
but if I did, I might visit him myself...

...after this evening.

So, it's out in the open, is it?
You don't like my friends.

Well, I'm not bowled over.

That's strange. They're so much like yours.

- We're back on Maxie again.
- I never mentioned...

I'll tell you one thing.
Nose or no nose, he's more of a man...

...than Randy Owen who does....

Hello, Randy.

- Did you forget something?
- My script.

I'll get it.

This is a picture of my wife
and my three sons.

They're a little bigger now.
The oldest is about six feet.

He plays football up in Maine.

I'd be happy to have you
meet them sometime.

And some other time, if you'd like,
I'd be happy to beat both your ears off.

- Easy. Don't lose your head.
- Right now, if you'd like.

Randy.

Randy, here's your script.

- Good night, Marilla.
- Good night.

Is he for real?

- Did he mean that?
- I guess so.

He's something of a character, Randy.

Character.

He's punchier than Maxie Stulz.

I wish Marilla hadn't decided
to make me her confidant.

It's a thankless role at best.

But when you're cast in it opposite a girl
you once asked to become your wife...

...why, it's downright embarrassing.

Do you like Mike?

- Do you like Mike?
- Certainly I do.

I don't know him very well...

...but he seems an intelligent man.
Fairly easy temperament.

Darned good writer,
I've read him for years.

- Of course I like him, why do you ask?
- He hates you.

It's not just you,
of course, it's all my friends.

So you know what? You're not coming up
to my place anymore.

After all, we're a pretty neurotic bunch.

Mike doesn't understand us.

Until he gets used to us,
I'm going to keep all of you away from him.

- Protect him from our neuroses.
- That's right.

And Mike's not going to bring
some of his friends around, either.

Neuroticism doesn't seem to be confined
to the artistic class.

I'm relieved to hear that.

- Yes?
- Miss Shannon is here.

Ask her to come in.
This might be our leading lady.

I want you to meet her.

Hello, Mr. Wilde.

- How are you?
- Fine, thanks.

- Marilla Brown. Lori Shannon.
- Hello.

How do you do, Miss Brown?

- Have you two met?
- I'm sure we have. Haven't we?

I was just trying to think.

Well, anyway, you'll be a pleasure to dress.
You have a lovely figure.

- Why, thank you. I'm a trifle long-waisted.
- Nothing we can't take care of.

Luckily you're tiny in the hips
and your bust is perfect.

Well....

I've got to run. I have 100 things to do
before my fashion show.

It's been very nice.
Congratulations on getting the part.

- I don't think I have yet.
- You will.

Zach, you've got to. She's perfect.
Goodbye.

Goodbye.

I didn't know Marilla Brown
was designing your show.

Yes, we're very lucky to get her.

Yes.

Don't ask me why I went
to Marilla's fashion show that afternoon.

I must have been out of my head.

You ever been to a fashion show?

It's a sort of pagan ritual,
a ceremonial dance...

...where the faithful sit around
sipping tea and worshipping clothes.

There's a sacrifice involved, too.

$1,500.

$1,500 for a dress.

$350 for a nightie, so help me.

The high priestess at this slaughter
was my Marilla.

Mike, you came.

- I want to introduce you.
- No, I'd rather...

All right, we'll be exclusive.

$850.

What made you come?

I don't know. I was working
and suddenly I had this hunch.

A real hot flash, go to the Delsette store.

No, I mean it,
it happens to me like that sometimes.

Quick hunches.

Feeling that something nice
is about to happen.

Well, look at that!

Zach, here.
That's Lori Shannon, she's in the show.

- Miss Shannon.
- Hello.

- Did we miss anything?
- No, you're on time.

- How are you, Mike?
- Hello, Zach.

Miss Shannon, this is my husband,
Michael Hagen.

- How....
- How do you do, Mr. Hagen?

It's so nice to meet you.

- Won't you sit down here?
- Thank you.

The chairs aren't very practical.
Miss Shannon, I wanted you to see this.

How beautiful.

Lori was going to play it
like we'd never met.

Good.

I sneaked a look at Marilla
to see if she'd noticed anything.

Everything was okay.

"So," I thought, "he knows her."

I'm not naturally suspicious,
but this you couldn't miss.

I see something like that for you
in the garden number.

Slit up the sides
for more freedom in dance.

- Don't you think so, Zach?
- Yes.

By the way, Miss Shannon,
how are your legs?

- No complaints.
- I was sure there wouldn't be.

I do think we ought
to see your legs in this.

But not quite so revealing in the neckline.

Although you've certainly got
nothing to worry about there.

Are you all right, darling?

I began to put two and two together.
It didn't take long.

Two, the girl Mike feared
was about to spill tea in his lap...

...and two, the girl who had spilled ravioli
in his lap, were one and the same spiller.

Total, four.

I still couldn't place
where l'd seen Lori Shannon.

- How would you like to see her dressed?
- In splints!

Hello, Mr. Hagen.

Do you remember me?

- Yeah, you're Johnny O, aren't you?
- That's right, yeah.

I used to fight heavyweight.

Come in.

Nice place you got here, Mr. Hagen. Yeah.

Anybody home?

Just the maid.

It's Thursday, Mr. Hagen, she's off.

Yeah.

Mr. Daylor told us to drop in.

He's angry at you, Mr. Hagen...

...for going on writing those stories
about him after he asked you not to.

What we're here for is not to hurt you
or anything like that.

It's more like a warning.
Yeah, friendly like, you know.

Leave him go.

Now, what I would suggest, Mr. Hagen,
is maybe from now on...

...you get after the basketball boys
and the wrestling and the horses.

They could stand a lot of cleaning up.

But you leave the fights alone or...

...they got to clean you up.

Do I make myself clear?

- I'll have that laundered for you.
- No, nothing at all.

Well, it was nice seeing you again,
Mr. Hagen.

I just hope we don't have to meet no more.

I didn't know you had friends.

This is Mr. Johnny O. My wife.

- How do you do?
- Nick and Eddie.

- How do you do?
- Hello.

What happened to your lip?

Just an accident.

Johnny O here was showing me
how he knocked out Bob Fitzsimmons.

- Boys, I hate to push you out.
- Sure. We was just going, Mr. Hagen.

This way, boys.

- Mrs. Hagen.
- 'Bye, Mr. O.

So long, Mr. Hagen.

Nice of you boys to come by.

Mr. Hagen, remember:

No more articles about Mr. Daylor.

Is your lip all right?

It's fine.

People should be more careful.
He might have hurt you.

Not Johnny O.

How did the rehearsal go?

I came home.

Listen, Mike,
there's something on my mind about us.

About me really,
because it happened before I met you.

But I don't believe in keeping things secret.

Before I met you there was a man.

- Zachary Wilde.
- Another man.

The boy from Yale.

He was nothing.
Neither was that artist I told you about.

I mean, another man.

Not that there was anything really wrong.

I'm sure of that.

I wanted to tell you anyway.
It's been on my mind.

And I believe in being frank
and aboveboard.

If there's one thing
I've learned in this world...

...it's the exact moment
when not to be frank and aboveboard.

Okay, dear.

- What's for dinner?
- Lori Shannon!

For dinner?

You know what I'm talking about.
All that elaborate pretending.

"How do you do, Miss Shannon?"
"How do you do, Mr. Hagen?

So nice to meet you."

I introduced you. You let me
introduce you and all the time....

Wait. I didn't know....

Why didn't you tell me about her?

- What's the big secret?
- I don't know...

No! You didn't say a word.

What are you talking about?

You let me find out for myself
while everyone...

...is laughing behind my back.

- You're not making sense.
- I'm making excellent sense.

Lori Shannon. She's the girl in your show.

That we already know.

What else is she or was she, or is she?

- Lori Shannon. Are you out of your mind?
- The picture.

What picture?

The picture in your apartment.
I recognized her from that picture.

- Lori Shannon?
- Who else?

- In my apartment?
- In your apartment!

Where's the picture? Show me the picture.

I tore it up.

You tore....

- In a law court...
- We're not in a law court yet.

Just because you happen to find
a picture of a girl....

You found a picture of a girl
in my apartment?

Not a girl. Lori Shannon.
You knew her. Why didn't you say so?

Lori Shannon.

That day at that style show,
she walked in, right?

I never saw her in my life.
If she knew me, why didn't she say so?

Now who's not making sense?

If you'd listen a second, just because
you happened to find a picture...

I'm sorry.

How is it that you cannot stand
the sight of blood on anyone except me?

Mike, I want to talk to you.

- Excuse me, I'm due at the office.
- We've got to settle this.

Listen, I want to talk to you. You just....

That settles it.
Forget all about Mart Daylor.

- Forget him?
- Forget him.

You're a lousy newspaperman, but you're
not worth a nickel lying in an alley.

I've been after Daylor for two years.
I need a couple of weeks to finish the job.

Three, at the outside.
I've got affidavits coming in.

All right.

You want to dig your own grave?
I'll lend you a shovel. Only on my terms.

I'll give you three weeks, not a day more.
We'll find you someplace to hide.

The Gage Hotel around the corner.

We'll dateline your stories
from out of town.

You're following the Yankees.

Only you won't be there,
so the bullies can't catch up to you.

Meanwhile,
lay it on Daylor with everything you got.

Also, meanwhile, you're not to set one foot
out of that hotel room for three weeks.

Agreed?

- What will I tell my wife?
- The truth.

That I'm on the lam from the mob?
She will faint.

Don't tell me your problems.
I'm no marriage counselor.

Go on. Get out of here and get packed.

I'll send a copyboy every day
to pick up your stuff.

And don't answer the phone
no matter what.

One more thing, you'll need
somebody around for protection.

Is Maxie Stulz still around?
He is. Fine. Send him in.

Three weeks with Maxie Stulz,
I'll be punchier than he is.

- No!
- Shut up!

Maxie, come in here.

Hi, Mike.

Maxie, listen carefully.

There are some mugs in town...

...that don't like Mike Hagen.

They want to hurt him. See?

There. That's the ticket, Maxie.
That's the ticket. You protect him, see.

You protect....

Maxie, listen!

You stay right next to Mike Hagen...

...day and night.

No matter where he goes.

Do you get it, Maxie?

That's the ticket.
Now, get him out of here.

Maxie, for the love of....

Maxie, will you let go
just for a minute, please...

...till I get some circulation? Thank you.

I going to protect you, Mr. Hagen?
I stay with you every minute, right?

Right.

- Anybody looks cross-eyed. Right?
- Right.

Anybody looks cross-eyed.
Anybody. Right?

- Right?
- Right!

- You looking cross-eyed?
- Maxie, no.

He looks cross-eyed.

He always looks like that.
He lost a horse. It affected his mind.

Mike, I've been trying to reach....

- I believe you've met Maxie.
- Of course.

- How are you, Mr. Maxie?
- I'm making a comeback.

- Maxie came up from the office with me.
- How nice.

You'll think this is pretty strange
coming right at this time...

...but I have to leave for a while.

- Leave where?
- Here.

Well, I don't think that's strange at all.
Where are you going, to the club?

No, I'm not going to the club.
I don't belong to a club.

Something has come up.
Something very important.

I don't want you to be upset, but....

Well, you see, I'd like....

Maxie, will you stand over there
for a minute?

Please? Thank you.

I'd like to take you into my confidence.
May I do that?

- That would be a novelty.
- Please, let's not assume attitudes.

As far as that matter is concerned,
I don't even want to discuss it.

This other thing is too important.

- Can you keep a secret?
- Not as well as you can.

Okay. Excuse me, I've got to pack.

Excuse me, lady, got to pack.

I still don't know where you're going.

Chicago. Then on the road.

For how long?

Three weeks.
I'm going to follow the Yankees.

Is that the big secret?
You're going to follow the Yankees?

Yeah, they shouldn't know about it.

Mike, can I talk to you alone, please?

Well, what about?

You know what about. I want to....

- How have you been, Mr. Maxie?
- He's been fine.

I was conversing with Mr. Maxie.

Mr. Maxie doesn't know
what you're talking about.

You're packing a shoe with a hole.
You only wear these when you're writing.

I'll be doing some writing on the road.

Maxie, please.

It was pretty obvious, this sudden trip.

And bringing Mr. Maxie home
so he wouldn't have to talk.

I decided to pump Mr. Maxie.

Well, Mr. Maxie.

Are you taking Mike to the plane?

That's right. Every place.

- Then you're not going with him.
- That's right. Every place.

Then you'll be following the Yankees, too?

Who?

You. You and Mike.

That's right. Every second, day and night.
Anybody looks cross-eyed.

- Who?
- Cross-eyed.

Shut up, Maxie.

I'll call you tomorrow,
as soon as I know what hotel.

Let's go, Maxie.

So long, Marilla.

- Goodbye.
- Goodbye.

- I hope you two will be very happy.
- Thank you very much.

- Mr. Higginsbury and Mr...
- Mr. Smith.

How do you spell "Smith"?

- Make a cross. Keys, please.
- Okay.

Suite 406.

How do you do, miss?

I'll place a few local calls now and then...

...but I'd like the party to think
I'm out of town.

So you say that Chicago is calling,
or Kansas City, or whatever I tell you.

Understand?

No.

That make it any clearer?

- Yes.
- Good.

My first night away from Marilla
since we were married. I couldn't sleep.

Four times I picked up the phone
to make a clean breast of everything...

...and four times saner judgment prevailed.

Here I was, happily married
to the loveliest creature in New York.

And here I was, shacked up in a hotel
with a punchy ex-middleweight.

I began to hate Ned Hammerstein.

Maxie Stulz was no cure
for the blues either.

3:00 in the morning and all he did
was stare at the ceiling.

Suddenly, I remembered.
He'd been staring like that since 1 1:30.

I realized it then.

Maxie had died!

Okay, Maxie. It's okay. It's okay, Maxie.

- Stop!
- Where? Who? Cross-eyed?

It's all right, boy. It's okay.
Nothing. Forget it. All right.

Circle seven, zero, five, nine, eight.

- Hello.
- Ned?

Yeah. Mike?

I just wanted to tell you.

Maxie Stulz sleeps with his eyes open.

Why, you crumb!

You thieving, no good...

What was that?

Maxie Stulz sleeps with his eyes open.

Thanks for a civil answer.

Our first night apart.

I didn't know
a person could be so miserable.

By 3:00 a.m., I had convinced myself
that Mike was innocent.

After all,
maybe he had never known Lori Shannon.

Maybe the whole thing was a mistake.
That's what it was, a horrible mistake.

Only what about the photograph?

All right, what about the photograph?

A man can have a picture of a woman
without knowing her, can't he?

No. Then put it this way:

Mike is a newspaperman,
he meets all kinds of people.

He could've met Miss Shannon
in a purely business fashion.

Purely business.

Sure, but Miss Shannon
is no hockey player.

Shut up.

My mind began drawing nasty
little pictures of Mike and Lori Shannon.

I saw them laughing together
in some restaurant.

I saw them out dancing.
I saw him bringing her home.

I saw him take her into the living room.

I saw him kiss her.

I saw him....

"But when you've got love, you're high

And your song is a gay refrain.

A happy strain that sings out the news.

Don't let the night go to waste

looking for ways

to say I love you.
Take your cue from the birds"

What would happen if I quit the show?

I'd shoot myself.

Listen, Madame X, as I understand it,
your Michael has departed for Chicago...

...firmly protesting his innocence.

What does that prove? Nothing.

"Music is better than words"

Not bad, sweetie.
Go to your room and I'll clean it up.

All the four parts right over here.
Take it from just before the circle.

What have you proved? Also nothing.

I admit I could be wrong.

I just can't stand not knowing.
And I certainly can't ask her.

"Pardon me, Miss Shannon,
but was my husband in love with you?"

- It's unthinkable.
- Definitely.

- So I have an idea.
- What?

- You ask her.
- No.

You can do it.

All you have to do is broach the subject
as tastefully as possible.

Find out if she ever knew him,
and then tell me about it.

Marilla, deceit and collusion are completely
out of tune with your character.

I know it, but please, Zach,
I can't go on working like this.

- I'll speak to her right away.
- Thank you.

Yes?

Come in, Mr. Wilde.

- Am I disturbing you?
- Not at all.

- May I?
- By all means.

Miss Shannon, this is...

...rather a delicate matter.

You see, I hate to intrude.

Playful little fellow, isn't he?

- I'm so sorry.
- That's all right.

Come along now.

Over here, 'cause you're a naughty dog.
Right, now sit.

That's a good boy.

Miss Shannon,
I'm usually a man of quite a few words...

...but I'll try and make this
as brief and tactful as possible.

Yes.

What I have to ask
has nothing whatsoever to do...

...with this show
or our future business relationship.

- I want you to understand that.
- Yes.

Miss Shannon...

...I'd like to know,
and please answer very frankly...

...if I may feel free to call on you
at your apartment...

...and take you to dinner
as often as the spirit moves us both?

In time, as you learn to know me better...

...I hope our friendship
will ripen into something...

...shall we say more neighborly?

You don't have to answer now.

I'd be delighted.

8:30 tonight?

- Well?
- I asked her point-blank.

Miss Shannon never laid eyes
on your husband...

...until that day at the fashion show.

Feel better?

Is this Mrs. Hagen?
Just a moment, please. Chicago calling.

Hello, Marilla? This is Mike.

What do you mean, where am I?
I told you, I'm in Chicago.

What? What hotel?

We're at the Whitestone,
but we're leaving here tonight.

Well, why can't you talk now?
Who's there?

Zachary. Yeah, Zachary, sure.

The whole crowd, you're working.

The weather? The weather here?

Well, it's.... You know.

Hello, Marilla? I can't hear you.

Hello? Hello, Marilla.
Yeah, I can hear you now.

It's hot here. 92.

Well, I guess that's about all if you're busy.

I just wanted to say hello.

Okay.

I'll call you again in a couple of days.

'Bye.

I don't like Chicago,
I got a bad decision here once.

It's all right, Maxie. You go to sleep.

Open your eyes and go to sleep.

I'm in Boston.

We just got in. Cleveland.

Kansas City.

Mike? I just read your stuff, it's great.

Keep your nose off the street.
You may win the Pulitzer Prize.

Stick it out and Daylor will bite it off.

Your job is to find Mike Hagen.

Who have you got working on it,
a troupe of clowns?

Clowns? In Chicago was Joey Golner.

This is not a good guy?

In Boston, it was three boys
with Louey Gasto, merely the best.

- In Kansas City...
- Never mind the excuses.

Just give us some action, Milt. Action.

You're wasting your time, Milt.

You're looking all over the place
and your eyes are in the way.

Hagen's not out of town, he's right here.

In New York?

What makes you think?

I'm guessing. And I'm guessing right.

He's holed up somewhere
right under our noses.

- Trick is to bring him out in the open.
- Any ideas?

I think so.

Johnny, round up a couple of the boys
and be in my office tonight.

Let's go.

And, Johnny...

...I want real good boys. Playtime is over.

Hello, honey,
will you call that number again for me?

I'm in Detroit.

It's a nice town, Maxie.
Lots of automobiles, you'll love it.

Hello, Marilla? How are you?

This is Gwen, Mr. Hagen.
Mrs. Hagen isn't here.

When will she be back?

I don't know. She didn't say.

- Do you know where she went?
- No, I don't know where she went.

I'm here, I just don't want to talk.
Goodbye.

- Wait. What's going on?
- I'm packing, that's what's going on.

Packing? Where are you going?

Boston. The show's opening there
tomorrow night.

Yeah, the show.

You wouldn't happen to be going
to Boston tomorrow, by any chance?

- No, I wouldn't be.
- I was sure you wouldn't. Goodbye.

Marilla, will you stop? What's the matter?

It's funny you should ask that.
Why should anything be the matter?

I don't eat and I don't sleep...

...but outside of that
everything's just dandy.

Marilla, will you listen, please?

If you're still worried about Lori Shannon,
you've got it all wrong.

I wouldn't have cared
if only you'd have told me.

"How do you do, Miss Shannon?"

All right, I've had enough of this!
I'll ask her myself.

All right, Marilla. You do that!

I want you to!

I will. Goodbye.

Goodbye.

This ain't Detroit.

Looks more like Chicago.

Hey, Mr. Hagen, you punchy?

I'm going to do my best.

I had three quick ones
which did me no good at all.

But strangely enough, after the fourth,
I found the solution to the whole problem.

I would see Lori that night
and fix up a story.

Liquor, I have found, makes me very smart.

First, of course, I had to get rid of Maxie.

Boy, am I beat.
Let's hit the hay, Maxie. Sleep.

I was packing for Boston
when the bell rang.

"lt couldn't be," I thought, but it was.

- Hi.
- Hi.

I came up the stairs.
I didn't want the elevator boy....

Have you got a drink?

Thanks.

Not now, boy.

I guess you're sort of surprised to see me.

- Mind if I sit down?
- Please, do.

What I came about....
All right, boy, that's enough.

I came really because.... Will you stop?

There's something of the utmost
importance I have to discuss with you.

Not only....

This dog has very bad habits.

There was a time
when you thought it was funny.

My sense of humor has changed.

- I thought you were out of town.
- Yeah, a lot of people think so.

Including your old friend Mart Daylor?

I've been reading your column.
Where are you hiding out?

The Gage Hotel. For three weeks.

- Your wife must be delighted.
- She doesn't know. I didn't tell her.

She thinks that.... Well, it's a big megillah.

I'll bet it is.

How's Marilla been acting lately
toward you?

About the same.

What does that mean?

I think she's getting ready to slug me.

That's why I'm here.

You see, Marilla found a picture of you.
And she thinks that....

Well, you know what she thinks. Anyway...

...she's going to ask you about us.

I've got a story all worked out.

This could be interesting.
How does it open?

You're a girl from Wisconsin.

Up to there it's very logical.

A friend of mine in Wisconsin,
a halfback on the Green Bay Packers...

- What's that?
- It's a football team.

He sent me a picture of you.

Asked me to use my influence
to get you a job.

You know, in radio, TV, anything. All right.

You came to my office. Once.

I told you that I was sorry,
there was nothing that I could do for you.

And that was the end of the whole affair.

But I forgot to throw out the picture...

...and that's how Marilla
happened to find it.

- Well?
- I don't believe it.

I don't expect you to believe it.
I want Marilla to believe it.

- She won't believe it either.
- Why?

I read something like it once
in a comic strip.

Even there they didn't believe it.

Hello? Yes?

Yeah, hello, Miss Brown.

Where? Why, of course.

Well, yes, I was in bed,
but that's perfectly...

Could you just give me a few minutes?

- Yes, all right.
- What?

She's in the lobby.

She went out without her purse
and she wants to borrow a cab fare.

You mean she's coming up?
Why didn't you stop her?

How? Tell her I didn't have $1?

She doesn't want $1 .
She wants to find out....

I'll go down the stairs.

Fine. If you run into her,
tell her about the Green Bay Packers.

Well, in here.

Listen, that story. It'll work. I know.
Just get your facts straight.

That fellow, Nordley was his name.
Frank Nordley.

He's a friend of yours.
The Green Bay Packers.

I've played this scene before, I thought.

In a blackout on the borscht circuit.

Hello.

What a sweet dog.

- This is the silliest thing. I'm terribly sorry.
- That's all right.

We were all working at Zach's tonight
and I decided the air would do me good...

...so I walked till I almost fell down
and there I was, no purse.

- I hope you weren't asleep.
- No.

What a lovely place you have.
Did you do it yourself?.

- Yes, it's about...
- I love your drapes.

What a beautiful chest.

Could I get you a drink?

No, thanks. I will have a cigarette though.

- Just there.
- Thank you.

I'll get my purse.

Some day I'm going to design a purse
you can't forget.

It'll have a little bell
or something that tinkles madly...

...whenever you leave it behind.

Good idea.

Will $5 be enough?

Heavens, yes. It's only a mile or so.

Thank you. You know,
I have a real phobia about taxi drivers.

I could've gone to the apartment
and asked him to wait.

But whenever I do that...

...I'm always afraid they'll think
I'm trying to cheat them.

Do you have a fear like that?

I could say I didn't know I had it.

But I'm a very bad liar, Miss Shannon.
I suppose you've noticed that.

Maybe you just haven't had
enough practice.

I came here tonight
for a very definite reason.

To ask you a question.

At the moment I feel like a fool,
so I've decided not to ask it.

Tonight or ever. I hope you'll forgive me.

- Of course.
- Thank you.

I must say,
you've been very understanding about this.

I really do appreciate it.

Furthermore, I'd like to apologize
for the way I've been acting lately.

- I don't think I've been aware of anything.
- Really?

You must've noticed
that twice during the last week...

...while pinning material on you
I've jabbed you in the derriere.

- That.
- I did it purposely.

Really?

Anyway, I'm sorry
and it won't happen again.

I had the silly idea
I was supposed to be jealous of you.

Thank heaven I've come to my senses.

Please try to forget
I ever came here tonight.

Marilla, what are you doing here?

There's no explanation
for what you did to me.

- I don't want to listen to you.
- Come back here now.

You're jumping to the wrong conclusions,
altogether.

You don't want a taxi. You're not getting...

Don't touch me! Take your hands off me!

You mustn't be deceived by appearances.
Appearances are very deceiving.

- I don't want to hear why.
- I was up there. Yes, but why?

Taxi. Taxi.

Just for once in your life,
will you listen to me? Marilla!

When you said you were going
to ask Lori Shannon about us...

...I just dropped over to see her.

From Detroit?

I haven't been in Detroit.
I've been in a hotel for two weeks.

Right here. Hiding out.
That's right, hiding out!

Have you been drinking?
Of course. A hotel drinker.

That's the way I met you.
That's the way I'm leaving you.

- Taxi. Taxi.
- Just a minute. Come back.

Will you let me go? I told you I hate that.

Don't get in that cab. Marilla!
Don't drive that cab away, I'm telling you.

- Don't drive it away. Stop!
- Taxi, drive on.

Come back. Marilla!

Officer, I've got plenty of troubles tonight.
I don't need any from you.

I'm a fighter, you know,
and a fighter needs lots of sleep.

So l'm sleeping in the bed,
and l'm dreaming like, you know.

But all of a sudden I wake up.

I look around.
I look in the bed for Mr. Hagen.

But he ain't there, so I don't see him.

So I think maybe he's in the parlor.
So I go in the parlor.

I look all around good, but I don't find him.

"Boy," I say.

Boy.

So I think maybe he go downstairs.

So I go down the stairs to the lobby, like.

And I don't find him no place.

"Holy smoke," I say.

Holy smoke.

- Aren't you Maxie Stulz?
- That's right, Maxie Stulz.

Don't you remember me, Charlie Arneg?

Yeah, sure, that's right.
Did you see Mr. Hagen, Charlie?

- No, Maxie, Mr. Hagen's in Detroit.
- Where?

Detroit. See?
It says right here in the paper.

"Mike Hagen is in Detroit."

- Where am I, Charlie?
- New York, Maxie.

- Then Mr. Hagen is in New York, too.
- Here, in this hotel?

That's right. He left his room.
I got to protect him.

- Where have you been, Mr. Hagen?
- All right, upstairs.

- You've been in Detroit, Mr. Hagen?
- Yeah, yeah.

There is an old saying which says:

"lt is not who you know that matters
in this world, but what you know."

For instance, I know that Mike Hagen
is hiding out in the Gage Hotel.

This is a nice slice of information,
which dropped in the right company...

...could net me a nice piece of change.

Next day, I start hanging around
with Marty Daylor's boys.

And I learned something that is hot.
Real hot.

And worth even more to Mike Hagen
than I could get from Marty Daylor.

Hi, Max. Mr. Higginsbury in?

- Who?
- Mr. Hagen. Where is he?

Shut that door, Maxie.

Mike, boy.

- How did you know where I was?
- Relax, Mike, boy.

I met Maxie in the lobby last night.
Then I see you come in.

What do you want?

I got a nice slice of information for you,
very warm...

...that I could perhaps let you have
for a Willie McKinley.

If that's what I think it is, the answer is no.

Okay. It's too bad I can't get
to Mrs. Hagen on time.

Considering how warm this slice really is,
I think it's a very fair fee, Mike.

What's Mrs. Hagen got to do with this?

William McKinley.
A U.S. old president, cooled around 1900.

A half a grand.

I don't have it on me. I'm not poor enough
to have that much on me.

All right. I'll show you
Charlie's heart is in the right place.

From you, I would take paper.
For a leave of, say, about 30 days.

- Is hotel stationery legal?
- Without a doubt.

I, the undersigned,
promise to pay to Charles Arneg....

- Make it Charles, will you, Mike?
- Yeah.

$500, 30 days from the above date.

What about Mrs. Hagen?

Mart Daylor's boys are putting the snatch
on Mrs. Hagen tonight. In Boston.

How do you know?

I invest in a few beers
with the right people.

They can't find you, so naturally they got
to grab the next best thing, your wife.

Right after the show.

None of that "hold them for ransom" jazz
or that old-fashioned stuff.

They'll probably tuck her away
for a few days in a little hideout...

...and make a few scars.

Hello?

- Hello?
- Michael.

If you're calling the cops,
I think this is a very bad move.

Now suppose, for argument's sake,
the snatch is on?

Now, the boys have got to dump
your wife someplace.

And when they dump her,
she's liable to be very cold.

Hello?

Listen, get me the Palace Theater
in Boston. Backstage.

I'll talk to anybody.

That's the whole slice.
I'll see you around, Mike.

Wait. Where do you think you're going?

To the drug store, to invest in a malted.

With Mart Daylor maybe,
so you can earn another McKinley?

Mike, a guy's got to make his own way
in this world, but a thing like that, I just...

Maxie, cross-eyed.

Now, Max, boy. You remember me?
Charlie? Charlie Arneg?

I want to speak to Mrs. Michael Hagen.
Marilla Brown. Right away.

Impossible. I can't get her to the phone.
The curtain just went up.

This is her husband. I've got to talk to her.
It's a matter of life and death.

- Don't you understand? The curtain has...
- You hear me? Life and death.

All right!

Hurry up, girls. Come on.

Come on, girls. Let's get a move on now.
Here we go.

A matter of life and death.

There was a Hagenism if I ever heard one.

No dice.

Listen, you!

- Come on, Maxie.
- Where? What?

- We're going to Boston.
- Again?

Move!

- Come here with me.
- You wait here.

Something's the matter
with Lori's next change.

- They can't fix it. Will you take a look?
- When I agreed to come...

Marilla, don't be like that.
She can't go on the stage.

You can't do that. Please, Marilla!

It looks terrible.

They cleaned this dress and tacked it back.
I don't know how.

- Looks all right to me. What's the matter?
- First, I can't breathe.

- What's wrong with that?
- But she has to be cut all over.

Fine.

Where shall we start?

Wherever you think?

You can go now, Evelyn,
Miss Brown will take care of me.

- Shall we talk?
- Let's. What about?

Let's talk about Michael Hagen.

Interesting subject. You first.

Of course I knew Mike.
I knew him very well.

But I lost him when you came along.

He's quite a man, Michael Hagen.
No saint, of course...

...but you must have suspected that
before you married him.

Maybe, even,
that was why you married him.

I don't think you really minded that he'd
once been in love with another woman.

- You just couldn't take meeting her.
- Small-minded.

It could be your early upbringing.

You realize, of course,
I have a weapon in my hand.

Would it be small-minded to ask you what
my husband was doing in your apartment...

...at night, pie-eyed?

Just one right here
and I think we'll have it.

Mike never left town, you know.

- He was in New York all the time.
- So he told me.

- Did he tell you why?
- He tried to.

You should have listened.
Not that you'd care for it.

I'm sure you could never stand anything
that approached physical violence.

Up to the moment, no, but I'm beginning
to find the prospect very alluring.

I still haven't heard what my husband
was doing shoeless in your apartment.

- Are you ready?
- I'm ready.

He came there that night
to make up a lie about us.

Give him a chance
and he'll tell it to you sometime.

- A real dilly. You'll love it.
- Give me a hint.

I don't want to spoil it for you.

But if I were you, I'd believe it.

After all, he's only lying about something
that happened before he met you.

He has nothing to lie about since.

Take my word for it.

That's what I'd like to find sometime.
The kind of man who'd love me so much...

...that he'd do anything, no matter
how silly, just so I'd never be hurt.

That's what I've been looking for.

And I darn near had it.

It's all right now, Miss Shannon.

Thank you, Mrs. Hagen.

- Where are you?
- In New York, with Mike.

Why don't you leave?

Everything is all right.
You're just in the way here now.

Thank you, Zach.

Mrs. Hagen.

I'm Johnny O.
We were introduced by your husband.

- Of course. How are you, Mr. O?
- Mrs. Hagen, your husband is in trouble.

- Trouble? What kind of trouble?
- Bad. A matter of life and death.

- No.
- He wants to see you, Mrs. Hagen.

He's been hiding out,
printing those articles about Mr. Daylor...

...and some very rough people
have put the finger on him.

I could take you to him right away.
There's a plane in about 20 minutes.

Please!

Good night, Miss Brown.

What? No, let me go.

The punchy. Get that punchy.

Maxie, cross-eyed!

Maxie, cross-eyed!

Somebody, help!

Cross-eyed. Cross-eyed.

I realized what was happening.

Maxie couldn't tell
the good guys from the bad.

Cross-eyed!

Fellows, we can't have this sort of thing.

There's a show going on in here.
Don't you realize this is an opening night?

- Would you mind telling me what this...
- No, Maxie! No!

Cross-eyed.

Get that big punchy.

Stop it, you. Both of you. Stop.

Marilla, will you get in here?
There's trouble with the costumes.

Foul.

There he is.

- Randy, boy.
- Hi, Mike.

Are you all right, dear?

- Are you all right?
- Sure.

- Did they hurt you?
- I'm all okay.

- Poor darling.
- Are you all right, sweetheart?

- Are you sure you're fine?
- Yes. Look.

Right now, before anything...

...I want to straighten you out
on the Shannon thing.

Mike, you don't have to.
Please, believe me.

No, I want to. Now, listen.

Lori Shannon comes from Wisconsin.

A friend of mine,
on the Green Bay Packers...

...sent me a picture of her.

Asked me to use my influence
to get her a job.

Lori was right. lt was a real dilly.

But I forgot to get rid of the picture.

And that's how you found it.

See?

Mike, darling.
Why didn't you tell me this before?

For the record.

Mart Daylor was convicted
and sentenced to three to five years.

He was released after eight months,
for good behavior.

But his reputation as a crook was ruined,
and he faded into obscurity.

Mike and I are still together of course.

We never argue anymore,
and when we do...

...it never lasts more than a week or two.
We are really very happily married.

We don't often mention Lori Shannon
in our household...

...though I understand
she's quite happy, too.

Well, why shouldn't I be?

Zachary and I
have been engaged for sometime.

That's enough, boy. Now, stop.

Well, I think that about sums up the story.

Unless, of course,
Maxie has something to add.

I'm making a comeback, you know?