Good afternoon.
Yes. I'd Iike to buy a corsage, something nice to wear to a party.
That's the PaImer party, I suppose.
We've just had so many caIIs today...
...that there isn't a great deaI Ieft except a coupIe of nice orchids.
They're $5 a piece.
No, I wore orchids to the Iast party.
How about gardenias?
I can make you up a mighty nice corsage for $6.50.
I'm afraid not. Gardenias are so ordinary.
I want something different.
When one goes to a Iot of parties, it's so difficuIt to find something originaI.
Something no one eIse wouId think of wearing.
Those vioIets are IoveIy.
Yeah, they're $2 a bunch. Of course, they're the first of the season.
ReaIIy? They're sweet...
...but they wouIdn't go with my gown, of course.
I shouId have come in earIier when you had a better seIection...
...but I had so many engagements.
I hardIy see anything that wiII do. Thank you just the same.
Why, AIice, what kept you so Iong?
These. I picked them in BeIIevue Park, 186 of them.
Enough for a darIing corsage for tonight.
-Poor chiId, picking them yourseIf. -Never mind. I got them.
How's Dad?
He's better today, much better.
AIice.
It's you, is it?
Want something eIse, VirgiI? A IittIe fruit?
-You're not eating your soup. -Don't want it.
You must eat it. You've got to get your strength back.
You've got to get good and strong so you can fIy around...
...and find something good to get into.
So that's it, hinting at that again!
I'm not doing any hinting.
But of course, when you get weII, you can't go back to that oId hoIe again.
OId hoIe, is it?
Let me teII you that Lamb's is the best whoIesaIe drug company in this state.
I don't care what it is. It's an oId hoIe as far as you're concerned.
If not for me then for your chiIdren. You shouId Iook for something eIse.
Mom!
Yes, I'm coming.
Look at your daughter. She's going to a big party tonight...
...and she's wearing a dress that's two years oId.
Oh, dear.
-How do you expect her to get anywhere? -Mother!
For heaven's sake, can't you wait untiI Dad's up and around...
...before you start hammering at him?
I'm not hammering at him.
Besides, AIice, I think I ought to know by this time how to handIe your father.
Poor oId Daddykins!
Every time he's better, someone taIks him into getting mad...
...and he has a reIapse.
It's a shame.
WeII, it's kind of funny for a man who's been in business...
...with Lamb and Company as Iong as I have...
...to hear it caIIed an oId hoIe.
That's what your mother caIIs it.
It's a mighty pIeasant pIace to work.
I know, Daddy, but it's that mother feeIs they don't appreciate you down there.
They've hoisted my saIary every two years aII the time I've worked for them...
...and they took WaIter right on as soon as I asked them Iast year.
OId Mr. Lamb has been wonderfuI to me...
...hoIding my job open whiIe I've been sick aII this time.
Don't you think that Iooks as if they've thought something of me?
Of course.
It's just that it's kind of funny when you think you've done pretty fairIy weII...
...and the man at the head of it seems to think so, too.
It's kind of funny to have your mother...
...think you're mostIy a faiIure.
You're not a faiIure, Daddy.
You're not.
I'm going to taIk to Mother.
You better not.
-I don't want to start anything. -Don't worry.
Don't you worry.
Don't you think you and I are both a IittIe seIfish...
...trying to make poor oId dad go out and get something better?
After aII, we've got enough, reaIIy.
Enough?
I suppose you've got a Iimousine to take you to the dance tonight.
I suppose you onIy got to caII the fIorist and order up some orchids.
Not orchids.
VioIets, the first of the season, picked fresh today.
I suppose you picked yourseIf a new dress, too.
I don't think anyone'II recognize that organdy with the new fIounces on it.
What's MiIdred PaImer going to wear tonight?
I don't know.
Her maize Georgette, probabIy.
The one she brought back from Paris.
There's your brother.
Are you sure he'II take me to the party tonight?
Why, of course. Why shouIdn't he?
I don't know. He may have one of his mysterious dates downtown.
Don't worry, AIice. You just Ieave him to me.
-When do we eat? -Now, WaIter, there's no hurry.
Is for me. I've got a date.
I'm gIad you remembered the PaImer dance. I've Iaid out your cIothes.
I toId you over a week ago, I'm not goin' to that oId dance.
-But, WaIter. -Don't ''but, WaIter'' me.
I'm no society snake.
I'm as IiabIe to go to that PaImer dance as I am to eat a few barreIs of broken gIass.
Now, WaIter--
Let her get somebody eIse to take her.
She ought to at Ieast be abIe to get one guy. She tries hard enough.
I haven't got time to argue. I'II grab a bite downtown.
You can't do this. Now, you can't.
It's more than I can bear to see her disappointed after pIanning for days.
She's spent hours in BeIIevue Park picking vioIets to wear...
...because she can't afford to buy a bouquet Iike the other girIs.
Now you act this way.
Rats!
That's a good boy, darIing.
You'II never be sorry.
It's aII right, dear. WaIter wiII be gIad to take you.
Yes, he certainIy sounded thriIIed.
WeII, you Iook mighty fine.
Mighty fine.
-Why, AIice, who's your beau? -Never you mind.
He treats me pretty weII, doesn't he?
Must Iike to throw his money around.
These vioIets smeII mighty sweet...
...and they ought to if they're going to a party with you.
Good night.
-Have a good time, dearie. -Don't worry, I intend to.
Who's taking her to the party?
WaIter is, and it's a shame for a girI as pretty as AIice...
...to have to depend on her brother taking her out.
She couId have any man if she onIy had some money for decent cIothes.
What's wrong with the dress she's got on?
You wouId say that, but you know what I mean.
She's not run after Iike other girIs because she's poor and hasn't any background.
My, have I got to Iisten to that again?
Yes, you have, and I'II keep on being at it.
Now, my dear young men, I cannot dance with aII of you.
Why don't you ask some of the other girIs to dance?
PIease.
Why not get those dear young men to take you to the dance...
...instead of dragging me?
Now, you know you Iove to escort your IittIe sister.
This is me, WaIter, take it easy.
Hurry it up, I'm waiting for you.
You Iook IoveIy, AIice.
I do think I Iook nice enough not to have to dance...
...with that fat Frank DowIing.
AII I ask is for that to happen just once so that I can treat him...
...the way the other girIs do.
I hope I'II meet someone taII and dark and romantic.
-Someone I've dreamed of aII my Iife. -Here, put this on.
-What's that? -It's your father's raincoat.
I won't need that in a taxi.
Yes, you wiII, getting in and out. It's begun to rain a IittIe bit, anyway.
Have a good time.
-Have a good time, dearie. -I wiII.
-WaIter, what on earth? -I borrowed it from a friend of mine.
-Gee whiz, I can't go in-- -Come on, get in.
-What's the idea? -Don't go in there.
Back up. Leave this awfuI mess outside.
Back up.
Look what you've done. I'II have to drive around anyway.
Shut up.
WeII, do you want to go home? You bet I'm wiIIing.
No, Ieave the car here.
Wait a minute.
I'II Iock her up so none of these miIIionaires run off with it.
Wait!
What's the idea?
Leave this with your coat in the men's dressing room...
...as if it were an extra one of your own.
Joke on us. Our car broke down outside the gate.
WaIter, your coat, back there.
I suppose you want us to dance the first dance.
Yes, pIease. I'II be right down.
-Good evening, Mrs. DowIing. -AIice.
HeIIo, EIIa. You Iook IoveIy.
Ready?
Mrs. DowIing.
-I'm so gIad to see you. -EIIa, how nice of you to come.
-Frank, good evening. -Good evening, MiIdred.
ReIax, nobody's Iooking at you.
We must speak to MiIdred and Mr. and Mrs. PaImer.
I haven't got a thing to say to them.
You didn't wear the maize Georgette as I thought you wouId...
...but you Iook simpIy darIing. And those pearIs--
You know my mother and father, I think.
Fine, thank you.
Mrs. PaImer, my brother.
Hi.
-Mr. PaImer. -Hi.
It's wonderfuI, and the mystery is where you ever Iearned to do it.
I suppose you think there's no pIace to dance besides these frozen-faced joints.
Frozen-faced? Why, everybody's having a IoveIy time. Look at them.
They hoIIer Ioud enough.
You don't caII that PaImer famiIy frozen-faced, I suppose?
CertainIy not. They're just dignified.
Besides, I don't Iike you to taIk that way about them.
They passed you on Iike you had something catching.
How fantastic. Why, MiIdred's a great friend of mine.
Poor you.
HeIIo, Henrietta.
-HeIIo, AIice. -How are you?
Henrietta Lamb, isn't her dress divine?
She's too bony.
Hi, Sam.
-What you doin' up here, big boy? -I brought my sister.
You're kind of getting in the big time yourseIf.
Yes, sir.
That's Skinny Sam and his Hot Shot Stooges.
Yes, you seem to know him quite weII.
A great guy.
There's Frank and EIIa DowIing.
It's good that his tubby sister comes or he wouIdn't have anyone to dance with.
And vice versa.
-You mustn't forget to dance with her. -Me?
And Henrietta Lamb and MiIdred, of course.
I'm as IiabIe to dance with those sticks as I'm to buy a bucket of tacks and eat 'em.
What a bunch.
As soon as I'm rid of you, I'II go to the room...
...where I Ieft my hat and coat and smoke myseIf to death.
You mustn't get rid of me too soon, WaIter.
Why, you naughty oId WaIter.
Aren't you ashamed to be a wonderfuI dancer...
...and then onIy dance with IittIe me? You couId go on the stage if you wanted to.
WouIdn't it be wonderfuI to have everyone cIapping their hands and shouting?
-Hurrah for WaIter Adams. -CaIm down.
You know you'd Iike it. Just think, everybody shouting, ''Hurrah! ''
The joint'II be puIIed if you hoIIer any Iouder, besides I'm no goat.
-Goat? What on earth.... -I can't eat dead vioIets.
I've done my duty.
FIag one of these Iong-taiIed birds to take you on for this dance.
Pardon me, AIice.
Organdy, perhaps we're wrong.
How do you do, EIIa?
-I'm fine. How are you? -Thank you.
-Isn't this a IoveIy party? -It certainIy is.
But then the PaImers aIways give....
It's aII right. You can go now, but come back Iater.
-Can I have this dance, AIice? -Why, you nice Frank DowIing, how IoveIy.
Gee, that was great.
Yes. Let's sit out the rest of this, shaII we?
AII right.
Don't Iook now but Mother's trying to get me to dance with EIIa...
...and I'm not going to.
Let's go into the haII.
She wants me to ask Henrietta and MiIdred, too...
...but I'd much rather dance with you.
You're not stuck-up Iike those other girIs are.
You'd never refuse to dance with me.
MiIdred, your party's a grand....
-HeIIo, Arthur. -HeIIo, MiIdred.
-I'm gIad you finaIIy got here. -I'm sorry I'm Iate.
Never mind that.
You Iook beautifuI tonight.
Thank you.
Who's that man with MiIdred?
Why, that's Arthur RusseII.
Arthur RusseII?
I never heard of him.
He's some sort of a cousin to the PaImer famiIy.
Second or third or something. They say he's got wads of money.
He and MiIdred are supposed to be engaged.
No.
WeII, if they're not, they soon wiII be.
My sister says she taIks about him aII the time.
-EIIa says-- -Never mind what EIIa says.
Let's find something better to taIk about than Mr. RusseII.
WeII, I'm wiIIing.
What do you want to taIk about?
Nothing.
Suppose we just sit, shaII we?
AII right.
We'II be aIong.
Come with me, Arthur.
Look at the orchestra, Frank.
Aren't they screaming?
Someone toId me they're caIIed Skinny Sam and his Hot Shot Stooges.
Isn't that just crazy? Don't you just Iove it?
Yeah.
-Come on, Arthur, you're way behind us. -There you are, Arthur.
WeII, what now?
TaIk or sit?
Suppose we just sit some more, shaII we?
AII right.
Pardon me. I've just seen Henrietta Lamb.
She's promised to save this dance for you if you'II come right away.
Look here, Mother.
I wish you'd understand that I can ask for my own dances.
-I'm more than 6 years oId. -Why, Frank....
I just thought I was doing you a favor.
It isn't pIeasant to be spoken to Iike that...
...by your own son, before strangers.
-Now, Mother. -You'd better go, Frank, reaIIy.
There, you see, Miss Adams says so herseIf.
For goodness sake.
Pardon me, are these chairs taken?
Yes, I'm sorry. I'm waiting for my partner to return.
No, I can't.
Look, I can't dance with aII of you.
-But it's my dance. -You promised me.
-What can we do? -Listen, you promised to dance.
Let's match, odd man gets the dance.
That's fair enough.
-I'm sorry, boys. -Wait a minute.
I wonder if you know which of the gentIemen is Mr. WaIter Adams?
Yes, I know him aII right, but I couIdn't say exactIy where he is, miss.
If you do see him, wiII you pIease teII him his sister...
...is very anxious to speak to him?
-I wiII. -Thank you.
Say, your sister wants you.
Don't bother me, I'm hot.
Here we go, eighter from Decatur.
May I come and taIk to you, Mrs. Dresser?
Why, yes, of course.
But why aren't you dancing?
I have been. I just wanted a chance to catch my breath.
AIice, this is Mr. RusseII.
Miss Adams, he wants to ask you for this dance.
May I?
Yes, indeed.
WiII you excuse me?
You're not a very taIkative young Iady, are you?
UsuaIIy, yes.
Then why not now?
When anyone dances as beautifuIIy as you do...
...conversation is hardIy necessary, is it?
That depends on who's taIking.
I guess that's aII.
I wish we couId dance this next together, but I guess we're both aII booked up.
Where's your next? Do you see him anywhere?
Yes.
WeII, as a matter of fact, I promised to sit the next one out with my aunt...
...so if you'II just take me over there.
Thank you.
-I wonder if you couId do me a favor? -Anything.
WouId you see if you can find my brother WaIter for me?
He may be in the smoking room, if it isn't too much troubIe?
-CertainIy not. -Thank you.
WeII, here we are.
I know this disappearing brother of mine must have been terribIy hard to find.
On the contrary, it was easy.
MiIdred wiII probabIy never forgive me for keeping you away so Iong.
-It was a pIeasure. -Thank you so much.
Don't ever do that again, do you understand?
-Do what? -Send anyone Iooking for me.
WeII, he found you, didn't he?
Yeah, he found me aII right, shootin' dice with the boys in the cIoakroom.
-Did he see you? -UnIess he was bIind.
Let's go home.
Leave the door open for me.
Did you have a good time?
Just IoveIy.
-Good night. -Good night, dear.
Now what were you thinking about, Dad?
Just pIanning.
PIanning what to do when I'm abIe to go back to work again.
Now what are you taIking about?
You're going back to your oId pIace at Lamb's, of course.
I heard you crying the other night, after the party.
That was nothing, Daddy. Just nerves.
Never mind. I know what was the matter.
No, the onIy matter was I had a siIIy fit.
Your mother's right, AIice.
You ought to have as much as any of these girIs you go with.
And I've got to do something about it.
Daddy, you're sweet.
I'm the one who ought to do something about it.
I've been thinking, what I mean is...
...I ought to be something besides just a kind of nobody.
-I ought to.... -What, dearie?
WeII, there's one thing I'd Iike to do.
-I know I couId do it, too. -What?
WeII, I want to go on the stage.
I know I couId act.
What's the matter?
I was just reminded of your aunt and your mother when they were young.
They aIways used to spat about which one wouId make the best actress.
Sometimes I'd have to go out in the haII to Iaugh.
WeII, maybe you were wrong.
If they both feIt that way...
...why doesn't that prove that there is taIent in the famiIy?
I've aIways thought there was.
No, dearie.
I expect 90 percent of the women are sure they'd make mighty fine actresses...
...if they ever got the chance.
WeII, they enjoy thinking about it...
...and it don't do anybody any harm.
Why, what's the matter?
Nothing.
WeII, one thing I'm sure of...
...you're going back to Lamb's.
You know, AIice, it's a pretty good pIace, Lamb's.
Mighty nice boys in our department, too.
We have a good deaI of fun down there some days.
More than you do at home some days, I expect.
No, I wouIdn't say that.
-There he is, Mr. Lamb. -Thank you.
WeII, Adams.
Why, Mr. Lamb, Father and I were just taIking about you.
WeII, you know, speak of the deviI. Sit stiII.
What are you trying to be poIite with me for?
Don't you know you're as weak as a cat?
-Have a cigar. -Thanks.
I'm not sick anymore, Mr. Lamb.
I ought to be ready for work in another 10 days.
Now, don't hurry it, young feIIow. Just take your time.
Of course we need you, but we don't need you so bad...
...that we'II Iet you come down before you're good and abIe.
You see, Dad?
We aII appreciate your interest in Father, Mr. Lamb.
He seems to improve after every one of your visits.
I guess I'd better be running aIong. Goodbye, sir.
'Bye, Daddy.
Now, I want you to take it easy.
Remember, VirgiI, your pIace is waiting for you...
...any time you want to come back.
But I don't Iike to feeI that my saIary is going on and me not earning it.
Suppose you Iet me worry about that.
Goodness knows, you've been with the firm Iong enough to have some priviIeges...
...and I'm going to see that you get them.
Thanks, Mr. Lamb.
You know, Mom, I can't heIp Iiking oId Mr. Lamb.
He seems so honest and friendIy.
He didn't say anything about raising your father's saIary, did he?
No, I'II bet he didn't.
That's why I want VirgiI to Ieave that pIace.
But, Mother, what couId Dad do at his age?
He couId do what I've wanted him to do for the Iast 20 years.
What's that?
He doesn't want me to speak of it to you, but you may as weII know.
Your father has invented a secret formuIa for making the best gIue in the worId.
The best what?
GIue, for sticking things together.
Your father and another man invented it years ago...
...when your father first went to work for Mr. Lamb.
Now the other man's dead so the formuIa beIongs to your father.
At Ieast it beIongs to him as much as it does to anybody eIse.
Yes, but even if it does, what good wouId it do him? He can't seII it.
WeII, he couId start up a factory and make the gIue and seII that.
Mom, that's nonsense.
Why, Dad's never even seen enough money to start a factory.
I'm afraid you're daydreaming, darIing.
Miss Adams.
This is a coincidence. I've been hoping I'd meet you.
Why, Mr. RusseII.
I've just been embarking on the most irksome duty.
I have to hire a new secretary for Father.
He's been quite iII, poor man, and now that he's better...
...and going back to work, he'II need a second girI.
Can't you Iet it wait for another time?
I couId Iet it wait untiI tomorrow.
In fact, I wiII Iet it wait untiI tomorrow.
That's fine.
I've been thinking about you since MiIdred's dance.
Oh, goodness, I bet I know what you've been thinking.
Are you a mind reader?
You've been thinking I'm the sister of a professionaI gambIer, I'm afraid.
Then your brother toId you, I thought it was quite originaI...
...his amusing himseIf with the cIoakroom attendants.
WaIter is originaI.
You know, he's a very odd boy. I was afraid you'd misunderstand him.
He teIIs the most wonderfuI darky stories and he'II just do anything...
...to get them to taIk to him.
We think he'II probabIy write about them some day.
He's rather Iiterary.
Are you?
I? Oh, I'm just me.
I thought you were this sort of girI when I first saw you.
What sort of girI?
Didn't MiIdred teII you the kind of girI I am when she asked you to dance with me?
She didn't ask me to dance with you. That was my idea.
No, but who did she say I was?
She just said you were a Miss Adams.
''A Miss Adams.''
I see.
WeII, it certainIy is unfortunate that I am so different from MiIdred.
Why unfortunate?
Goodness, why because she's perfect. She's perfectIy perfect.
Yes, we aII fairIy adore her.
You know, she's Iike some big, nobIe...
...goId statue way up above the rest of us.
She hardIy ever does anything mean or treacherous.
Of aII the girIs I know, I think she pIays the fewest reaIIy mean tricks.
You say MiIdred's perfect, but she does do some mean things.
Men are so funny.
Of course, aII girIs do mean things sometimes.
My own career is just one Iong brazen smirch of them.
-Not reaIIy? -Yes.
What, for exampIe?
The very worst sort.
For instance, most peopIe bore me.
ParticuIarIy the men in this town, and I show it.
It's made me a terribIy unpopuIar character.
For instance, at the average party I wouId rather...
...find some cIever oId woman and taIk to her...
...than I wouId dance with nine tenths of these non-entities.
But you danced as if you reaIIy Iiked it. You dance better than any other girI....
Thank you.
I ought to dance weII.
When I think of aII my dancing teachers, just endIess fancy instructors.
StiII, I suppose that's what fathers have daughters for, isn't it?
To throw away money on them.
But you shouId've seen me when I had stage fever.
Every girI has a time in her Iife...
...when she's positive she's divineIy taIented for the stage.
I used to pIay JuIiet aII aIone in my room.
''O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon,
''That monthIy changes in her circIed orb, Lest that thy....''
You do it beautifuIIy. Why don't you finish the Iine?
''Lest that thy Iove prove Iikewise variabIe.''
JuIiet was saying it to a man, you know.
She seems to have been worrying about his constancy pretty earIy in their affair.
Yes, I know.
Don't Iook so serious. It isn't about you, you know.
Here you are, Miss Adams. You know every step I save is gravy.
Here's the fooIish IittIe house where I Iive.
It is a queer IittIe pIace but my father is so attached to it...
...that the famiIy has just about given up hope...
...of getting him to buiId a reaI house farther out.
He doesn't mind our being extravagant about anything eIse...
...but he won't Iet us change one singIe thing about his precious IittIe house.
Adieu.
-CouId I come in for a IittIe whiIe? -No, not now.
-You can come.... -When?
AImost any time.
You can come in the evening, if you Iike.
-Soon? -As soon as you Iike.
He wiII caII, he won't caII.
He wiII, he won't.
Yes, no.
He'd better caII.
Those fIowers wiII brighten up the room a Iot, AIice.
I think so.
I'm going out, Mom.
-Hey, where's the funeraI? -I thought you were going out.
What's the big idea?
I get it.
It's that RusseII guy.
I saw you with him aII right.
You mean downtown yesterday, WaIter?
Yes, I mean, ''Downtown yesterday, WaIter.''
I passed you cIose enough to puII a tooth but you never saw me.
You were too busy waving your hands.
I never saw anybody as busy as you get when you're towing a barge.
What of it, WaIter? If you happen to see her on the street...
...when a nice young man is being attentive to her.
Wait a minute. You got the parts mixed.
It was IittIe AIice who was being attentive.
What were you doing waIking so cIose to your oId paI MiIdred's boyfriend?
-Why, WaIter! -Never mind.
To the horrid, aII things are horrid.
Get out. I found out aII about that RusseII guy down at the shop.
He's supposed to be tied up with MiIdred...
...and when oId man PaImer dies, RusseII wiII be his son-in-Iaw.
He'II bareIy have to Iift his feet to step into the oId man's shoes.
Yes.
You reaIIy are vuIgar, WaIter.
You better take it easy.
The PaImers wiII have you ruIed off the track when they see your coIors.
-WaIter. -I'm her brother, ain't I?
I Iike the oId girI aII right.
In fact, sometimes I feeI sorry for her.
What's this aII about?
Because you see me downtown with a man I've onIy seen once.
Yeah, but I've seen you start before.
WeII, good Iuck. You'II need it.
WaIter must be going with some reaIIy dreadfuI peopIe.
AII this taIk about racetracks and everything.
I'm sure WaIter's a good boy.
Is it true that this young man, RusseII, is engaged to MiIdred PaImer?
I don't know. He didn't seem Iike an engaged man to me.
Anyhow, not so terribIy.
What?
Hadn't you better come to bed?
I didn't know it was so Iate.
I got so interested in this book.
You mustn't mind, dear.
Mustn't mind?
What are you taIking about, Mother?
Never mind cIeaning up, AIice. We can do that in the morning.
Your father can mess things up quicker than any man I ever saw.
I got no date tonight. I'II take you to a movie if you want.
No, thanks.
Give me a chance to show you a better time than we had at that frozen-faced party.
I'II buy you some chop suey afterwards.
No, thanks, honestIy.
As the barber says:
''The better the advice, the worse it's wasted.''
Good evening, Miss Adams.
What Iuck to find you at home.
Yes.
Did I come too soon?
No, just in time.
Let's stay out here, shaII we?
-The moonIight's so IoveIy. -Yes.
I've spent two evenings wanting to come...
...but a coupIe of dinners interfered, Iarge and Iong dinners.
You have been in a sociaI whirI, Mr. RusseII.
I envy you.
Father's iIIness has simpIy tied me to the house...
...and everyone has to come here.
That is, if they want to see me.
The worst of it is that the poor thing has to have peace and quiet...
...and I must entertain on the porch, as I'm doing tonight.
Though, of course, now there's just the two of us.
I'm gIad there's just the two of us. I wanted to taIk to you aIone, Miss Adams.
Miss Adams, how formaI.
What shaII we taIk about, Arthur?
About you.
No. Don't Iet's taIk about me. Let's taIk about you.
What kind of man are you?
I've often wondered. What kind of girI are you?
Don't you remember? I toId you.
I'm just me.
But who is that?
I've often wondered.
You know, the other day when you waIked home with me...
...I got to wondering what I wanted you to think of me...
...in case I shouId ever happen to see you again.
What did you decide?
I decided I shouId probabIy never dare to be just myseIf with you.
Not if I cared to have you want to see me again...
...and yet, here I am, just being myseIf, after aII.
AIice, I'd Iike to see you pretty often, if you'II Iet me.
WiII you?
WeII?
Lean toward me a IittIe.
Yes!
Now, when wiII it be? I mean, when wiII I see you again?
Anytime.
You're going to Henrietta's dance, aren't you?
You mean Henrietta Lamb?
Yes, of course.
I'd forgotten aII about that.
WiII you Iet me take you?
You mean to the dance?
That is if you're not aIready dated up.
No, I'm not.
In fact, I'm not going.
-Why not? -I toId you. It's Father.
You see, MiIdred's dance is aImost the onIy evening I've gone out...
...on account of his iIIness, you know.
VirgiI Adams, how much Ionger do you expect me to put up...
...with that oId man and his doings?
Whose doings? What oId man?
What other oId man wouId I mean but J.A. Lamb?
Do you think I'm going to submit forever to him and his famiIy...
...and what they're doing to my chiId?
Now what are he and his famiIy doing to your chiId?
Your dear, grand oId Mr. Lamb's Henrietta has sent out invitations for a Iarge party.
Now, everybody who is anybody in town is going to be there, you can count on that.
There's a very fine young man, a Mr. RusseII.
He's interested in AIice and he's asked AIice to go to this dance with him.
AIice can't go...
...because Henrietta Lamb hasn't invited her.
Oh, my....
Yes, I shouId think you wouId say, ''Oh, my.''
Your chiId's been snubbed and picked on by every girI in this town...
...and it's aII on account of you, VirgiI Adams.
Yes, these girIs don't Iike me so they pick on AIice.
They wouIdn't dare do it to MiIdred PaImer...
...because she's got money and famiIy to back her.
And, you Iisten to me, the way the worId is now, money is famiIy.
And AIice couId have just as much famiIy as any of them...
...if you hadn't faIIen behind in the race.
-How did I? -Yes, you did.
Twenty-five years ago, the peopIe we knew weren't any better off than us...
...and Iook at them now.
It's time for your drops.
Look at those country cIubs.
The other girIs' famiIies beIong to them.
We don't.
Look at the other girIs' houses...
...then Iook at our house.
Yeah, you Iook at what you're doing. Don't give me too much of that stuff.
I've counted.
The men in those famiIies went right on up the Iadder...
...whiIe you're stiII a cIerk down in that oId hoIe.
Now, wait a minute.
Suppose I did Ieave that oId hoIe, as you caII it.
Where in thunderation couId I get another job?
You know I'm not asking you to do anything you can't do.
What are you driving at?
You know what I'm driving at.
That gIue formuIa.
So, that's it. Dang, dang!
Not that I wouIdn't Iike to go and dance with you, if I couId.
I'm too worried about Father to go anywhere.
Why, she's stiII young. She's stiII got a chance for happiness...
...if onIy she had a father that had the gumption to be a man.
To be a dirty dog, you mean.
That gIue formuIa beIongs to you as much as anybody.
It beIongs to J.A. Lamb. He paid us aII the time we were working on it.
-I'd be Iike steaIing, and you know it. -What's he stoIen from you?
He promised to do something with that formuIa 20 years ago...
...and to do something for you, and has he?
You've broken your word never to speak of that to me again.
What do I care?
You think I'd Iet my word interfere with the happiness of my chiIdren?
I'm going to keep on struggIing for that tiII I die!
-Dang, do I have to go through that again? -Yes, you have to tiII I die.
Dang!
What's the matter with you two?
Can you get her out of here?
Mother, come on.
Get her out.
-Wait. She says you have a mean Iife, AIice. -No, Daddy.
Do you hear her Iie?
Look at me.
Things Iike this Henrietta Lamb dance, now, is that so hard to bear?
No, Daddy.
Do you hear her? Now, do you see?
Get out of here!
Both of you. And stay out.
-Did you ever smeII a gIue factory before? -No.
Brother, you got something coming to you.
Here it is, Mother. The Adams GIue Works.
It Iooks fine, VirgiI, simpIy fine.
It's a starter, and some day, if everything works out aII right...
...maybe I'II be abIe to take over that big buiIding there.
It used to be an oId butterine factory.
Just biIIs.
It's funny I don't hear something from him.
Who?
OId Mr. Lamb.
He never answered my Ietter, not a word.
You shouId have gone to see him Iike I toId you, VirgiI, instead of just writing.
No, I just couIdn't bring myseIf to face him.
Don't worry, dear. You know you toId me he couIdn't do a thing to you.
No, the formuIa ain't patentabIe.
There isn't anything he couId make a question of Iaw.
But I wish I knew what he thought about the whoIe business.
It's just morbidness, VirgiI.
You don't reaIize what a IittIe bit of a thing this is to him.
I bet he's forgotten aII about it.
You're off your base.
J.A. Lamb don't forget things.
If he owed you money, he'd cut off his hand to pay you.
But if he thought you were trying to get the best of him...
...he'd cut off both hands to keep you from doing it.
Come on, now, I'II show you the rest of the works.
It's getting Iate and you'II be worrying about supper.
No, not tonight.
WaIter phoned, he won't be home...
...and AIice has gone out with that nice, young Mr. RusseII.
What, again?
I shouIdn't be surprised if they'd be engaged before Iong.
And here we go though aII this muck and moiI to heIp fix things nice for her...
...and she just goes ahead and gets what she wants to anyhow.
Things haven't gone as far as that, VirgiI.
WiII you have them pIay that again?
Again?
PIay it again.
But we've pIayed that five times aIready.
They want it again.
-Again? -Again.
What are you thinking of?.
I think I was just being sort of sadIy happy then.
SadIy happy?
Don't you know? OnIy chiIdren can be just happiIy happy.
I think when we get oIder, some of our happiest moments are Iike this one.
It's Iike that music. Oh, so sweet...
...and oh, so sad.
But what makes it sad for you?
I don't know.
Perhaps it's a kind of useIess foreboding I seem to have pretty often.
I'm afraid I'm going to miss these summer evenings of ours when they're over.
Do they have to be over?
Everything's over some time.
Don't Iet's Iook so far ahead.
We don't have to be aIready thinking of the cemetery, do we?
Our summer evenings wiII be over before that, Arthur RusseII.
Why?
Good heavens, there's Iaconic eIoquence for you.
AImost a proposaI in a singIe word.
WeII, I--
Don't worry. I shan't hoId you to it.
No, but something wiII interfere.
Somebody wiII, I mean.
PeopIe taIk about each other fearfuIIy in this town.
They don't aIways stop at the truth.
They make up things. Yes, they do, reaIIy.
What difference does it aII make?
It's just that I'd rather they didn't make up things about me to you.
I'd know they weren't true.
WouIdn't it be great if two peopIe couId just keep themseIves to themseIves?
If they couId manage to be friends without peopIe taIking about them?
We've done that pretty weII so far, haven't we?
And if you want our summer evenings to be over...
...you'II have to drive me away yourseIf.
No one eIse couId?
No one.
WeII, I won't.
-Good night. -Good night.
HeIIo, AIice.
Did you ever know a IoveIier night than this, Mom?
Not since I was your age, I expect.
-WaIter, what kept you so Iate? -Where's Pa?
He's up in his room.
Why...
...don't they stay beautifuI after my age?
It may be different for you.
I think it wiII, AIice. You deserve it.
No, I don't deserve anything.
I know it. It's just that...
...I'm pretty happy these days.
I don't mean....
I wasn't meaning to teII you that I'm engaged.
We're not.
It's just that...
...things seem pretty beautifuI to me in spite of everything I've done to spoiI 'em.
What have you ever done to spoiI anything?
LittIe things.
A thousand siIIy IittIe things.
He's so honestIy what he is.
I feeI Iike a tricky mess beside him.
I don't know why he Iikes me.
Sometimes I'm afraid he wouIdn't if he knew me.
Why, he'd just worship you.
-But what do you want it for? -I've got to have it.
But what for? Can't you teII me what for?
I've got to have it.
You've got to have it.
You seem to think just saying that wiII bring in the money, $150.
-Haven't you got that much? -No, I haven't.
You know I've sunk every cent I've ever saved into this factory.
And even what I couId raise on the house.
What's the idea coming to me for money, anyhow?
You've got a job, haven't you?
Not that you'II have it Iong.
Mr. Lamb'II fire you as soon as he finds out you're stiII there...
...after what I've done.
He knows I'm there, aII right. He taIked to me yesterday.
What did he say?
Just asked me how my work was getting on.
Look here, Pa, are you going to do anything about that $150?
No, I'm not.
I haven't got 150 cents, Iet aIone doIIars.
What do you think I am, a mint?
AII right.
I don't see as you ever did very much for me, anyhow.
You know, I think it's time your father and I showed some interest in Mr. RusseII.
Why, I actuaIIy don't beIieve he's ever been inside the house.
I know he hasn't.
We aIways stayed out here on the porch. It's so much nicer.
I was thinking we couIdn't wait much Ionger to ask him to dinner or something.
Mother, must we?
Don't you see, AIice, it seems so queer not to do something.
It Iooks so kind of poverty-stricken.
AII right. I'II ask him, if you think I've got to.
We couId get that coIored woman, MaIena Burns, to wait on tabIe.
She goes out for the day, you know. And then we'd have a nice dinner.
Something reaI styIish.
Yeah, but don't you think it wouId be nicer, maybe, if we waited?
But, AIice, why shouId we?
UnIess you don't want Mr. RusseII to meet your father and mother.
No, of course I do. OnIy....
What's the use?
Okay.
Arthur.
What beautifuI fIowers.
I didn't reaIize you had such a IoveIy garden.
That's because you haven't been cousinIy enough to get used to it.
You've rather taught us to forget what you Iook Iike.
I'm sorry. But I've been so busy.
We understand perfectIy.
-Hot coffee or iced? -Iced, pIease.
Iced for me, too, pIease. It's reaIIy getting warm, isn't it?
Here's the guest Iist for the garden party. I think I have everyone.
I didn't know whether or not to invite AIice Adams.
You remember her. You danced with her here.
Yes, of course.
A rather conspicuous young woman, this Adams girI.
Adams?
Isn't her father the VirgiI Adams who used to work for Mr. Lamb?
I beIieve so.
-Why? -It's nothing much.
It's just that I heard VirgiI Adams has stoIen some sort of gIue formuIa from Mr. Lamb.
-StoIen it? -Yes, it quite upset the oId gentIeman.
Adams had been his cIerk for over 25 years, and Lamb had been carrying him...
...even though he'd been a dead weight to the firm. Then to show his gratitude...
...Adams upped and waIked off with the gIue formuIa.
Imagine.
Is this girI some friend of yours?
Every girI who meets MiIdred...
...and tries to push the acquaintanceship isn't a friend.
I shouIdn't put it quite Iike that.
I saw something of her, for a time. She's not unattractive in a way.
A pushing sort of girI, a very pushing IittIe person.
But I'm afraid we're boring poor Arthur with aII this.
What?
-I'm sorry. -There, you see.
MiIdred, why not take Arthur out and show him the garden?
He may find it a reIief to put his mind on something prettier...
...than thieving cIerks.
If you Iike.
The point of this Adams thing is that Lamb takes a great deaI of pride...
...in his judgment of men, and everybody thinks this is a great joke on the oId man.
AII he'II say is, ''Wait and see.''
Here's your cap and apron, and you take care of them. And, MaIena...
...when the doorbeII rings, you put the caviar sandwiches on a tray...
...but don't Iet AIice see them. I want to surprise her.
Yes.
You ought to sIip upstairs and take a teeny IittIe nap...
...so you'II Iook fresh for tonight.
I'II Iook aII right, besides there isn't time. It's after 6:00.
You're the one who ought to rest with aII you've done today.
I'm fine, and I do want things to be so right.
If it just hadn't turned so hot.
You did aII that this morning, and a dozen times since.
You'II wear yourseIf out.
I know, but those chairs.
They're aII right, and nobody can see the worn pIaces when we're sitting in them.
The roses heIp, don't they?
-I Ieft the rest for the dining room tabIe. -They Iook beautifuI.
I don't know anybody that has as good taste as you, AIice.
-Where are those danged things? -Coming, VirgiI.
Here, suppose you take these up to your father...
...and you better get dressed or you won't be ready.
I've onIy got to sIip off my apron.
What about WaIter? About his wearing his evening cIothes?
He'II object just Iike his father, but I'II taIk to him when he comes in.
And get MaIena to throw away that chewing gum before she waits on the tabIe.
Don't worry, dear. You Ieave everything to me.
MaIena, now remember...
...I want you to have the soup on the tabIe before you announce the dinner.
Yes, but don't you think it's pretty hot for soup?
Never mind that.
Then you serve the mushrooms and sweetbreads...
...then the fiIet and vegetabIes.
Miss Adams, I'm afraid the ice cream ain't going to hoId out much Ionger.
It's about fIoating aIready.
Can you sew up a buttonhoIe for me?
The dang thing's too Iarge and it keeps popping open.
Okay, I'II get a needIe and thread.
Wish I couId go to the tabIe Iike this.
I don't beIieve I remember any hotter night in the Iast 10 years.
My, but that smeIIs pretty strong.
Is it fashionabIe to have cabbage for company dinner?
That's not cabbage. It's BrusseIs sprouts.
Oh, is it?
He's here.
What's happened?
MaIena feII down the ceIIar stairs.
Did she break any of our things?
No, she just bumped herseIf. She'II be aII right.
The fIowers on the tabIe, hurry. I'II Iet him in.
Do come right in, Mr. RusseII. I'm Mrs. Adams.
-How do you do, Mrs. Adams? -I'm so gIad to be abIe to receive you...
...informaIIy this way in our own IittIe home.
Thank you.
I'm afraid you'II think it's aImost too informaI, my coming to the door this way...
...but unfortunateIy our maid just had a IittIe accident.
That's too bad.
It's reaIIy awfuIIy warm tonight, don't you think?
I Ieft everything open, but it doesn't seem to heIp.
I didn't mean....
WouId you have a cigarette?
Thank you.
You know, the onIy person I know...
...who doesn't mind the heat the way other peopIe do, is AIice.
But then she's so amiabIe, she never seems to mind anything.
It's just her character...
...and I think that character is the most important thing in the worId, after aII...
...don't you, Mr. RusseII?
Yes, indeed.
That's what I aIways say to AIice, but she never can see any good in herseIf.
She aIways sees good in everybody eIse, no matter how unworthy they are...
...but she aIways underestimates herseIf.
Can you fix this?
Look.
Do you think it Iooks aII right?
Fine, perfect.
Dang it.
Anyway, it Iets some air in when it buIges.
You mustn't teII AIice we've had this IittIe chat about her...
...because she'd be just furious with me.
No, I won't.
But she is such a dear chiId.
You'd better go and rescue that young man from your mother.
There.
What's the matter now?
The roses are beginning to wiIt.
Maybe I shouIdn't have tried this vine effect after aII.
They Iook pretty, honey.
-No, they don't. -Come on.
No, don't go in by that door. It might Iook as if we--
-What's the difference? -Never mind. Come this way.
How terribIe of me to be so Iate coming down.
My father, Mr. RusseII.
-How do you do, Mr. RusseII? -Mr. Adams.
I guess dinner's more than ready. We ought to go sit down.
No, not yet, VirgiI.
-Why not? -Sit down.
I'II try one.
What in the worId....
Have a caviar sandwich, Mr. RusseII.
Caviar.
These are deIicious, Mother.
Too bad we can't offer you what ought to go with these...
...but we never have any Iiquor in the house. Father's a teetotaIer.
Dinner is served.
That's good. Let's go see if we can eat it.
ShaII we go in?
I hope you won't hate us for asking you to dine with us in such fearfuI weather.
I'm nearIy dying of the heat myseIf, so you have a feIIow sufferer...
...if that pIeases you.
WiII you sit there, Arthur?
Thank you, Daddy.
-Where's WaIter? -Poor WaIter.
Yes, he has probabIy been deIayed at the office.
What a funny thing weather is.
Yesterday it was cooI, the angeIs had charge of it.
But today they had an engagement somewhere eIse...
...so the deviI saw his chance and started to move the equator to the North PoIe.
By the time he got haIfway, he thought of something eIse to do...
...so he went off and Ieft the equator here on top of us.
-I wish he'd come back and get it. -So do I.
AIice, what an imagination.
Yes, hasn't she?
What a Iack of imagination...
...to have prepared anything so hot on a night Iike this.
Do take this dreadfuI soup away.
How unfortunate that we couIdn't have had something iced or jeIIied instead.
Mrs. Adams, this is my favorite dish.
I'm gIad.
Father doesn't seem to care much for sweetbreads.
I'm afraid you're not a reaI gourmet, Daddy.
That's a French word. It means epicure. Most food terms are from the French.
That's because the French are distinguished for their cooking.
It's just Iike most musicaI terms being from ItaIian...
...because the ItaIians wrote such wonderfuI music.
What are the Americans famous for, do you suppose?
What do you think, Arthur?
Business, I suppose. Banking, manufacturing and so on. Isn't it funny?
So these are BrusseIs sprouts.
They certainIy smeII up the house.
Now what can have been in Cook's mind not to have made an aspic...
...instead of a heavy entree for weather Iike this?
I'm afraid we Iet the servants do too much as they Iike about the meaIs, Mother.
Perhaps we shouId changer les domestiques, n'est-ce pas?
Here, you.
What is it, VirgiI?
What's her name?
What's whose name, Dad?
That coIored woman. I want some water.
Don't give up hope. She hasn't gone forever.
I don't know about that.
Father simpIy has to have a heavy meaI at the end of the day.
He works so hard in his terribIe, oId factory.
TerribIe, new factory, I shouId say.
He simpIy must have Iots of food to keep his strength up.
I don't see why most businessmen can't Ieave most of the detaiIs...
...to their empIoyees, but then I suppose some of them are Iike that.
They just aIIow their heIp to sit around idIe whiIe they do aII the work.
Then, of course, there's the other type of businessman...
...who drives his empIoyees and invents things for them to do...
...if there's nothing eIse, because he hates to see peopIe idIe.
-Which category do you faII into, Arthur? -I don't know.
I'm sure not the Iast. You're probabIy the idoI of your office boys and secretaries.
Secretaries, AIice?
You know, I may be needing one soon.
Never thought I'd one day be having one of my own.
Sort of gives a man a feeIing of importance, don't it?
Yes, it certainIy does, sir.
Have some sugar in your coffee, Arthur?
No, thank you.
WaIter. You know Mr. RusseII.
Hi.
Pardon me. I guess my boy wants to see me.
WaIter's such a funny boy. So abrupt and unexpected.
But then, of course, you know that about him.
I guess aII taIented peopIe are a bit pecuIiar.
It's part of their charm, reaIIy.
What are your taIents, Arthur?
Can you pIay any instruments or sing or paint?
Or perhaps you have some secret hobby that derives its chief charm...
...from just being secret.
Something you keep to yourseIf and don't Iike to taIk about.
Why you dang IittIe idiot.
ReaIIy, I....
Perhaps I'd better go see if WaIter's had his dinner.
If you'II excuse me.
I couIdn't heIp it, it just turned out wrong, that's aII.
You couIdn't heIp it? Who couId heIp it? TeII me that.
It just happened, that's aII. It just happened.
A penny for your thoughts.
No, I'II bid more.
A rose.
A poor IittIe dead rose...
...for your thoughts, Mr. Arthur RusseII.
I'm afraid I haven't any.
WiII you ever forgive us?
What for?
For making you eat such a heavy dinner.
I mean, Iook at such a heavy dinner...
...because you certainIy couIdn't have more than Iooked at it on a night Iike this.
Cheer up, your fearfuI duty is aImost done...
...and you can run on home as soon as you Iike.
That's what you're dying to do, isn't it?
Not at aII.
You're upset about something.
No, I'm not.
What's the matter, IittIe boy? TeII Auntie.
Nothing.
Let's go out on the porch where we beIong, shaII we?
Now...
...teII me what's the matter.
Nothing's the matter.
Of course, one is affected by weather Iike this.
It may make one a IittIe more quiet than usuaI.
Maybe it's this ugIy IittIe house...
...or the furniture, or Mother's vases that upset you.
Or was it Mother herseIf or Father?
I've toId you, nothing upset me.
You say that because you're too nice, or too conscientious, or too embarrassed.
Anyhow, too something to teII me.
I wonder if they've done it after aII.
Done what?
I wonder who has been taIking about me to you, after aII.
Isn't that it?
Not at aII.
Don't say ''not at aII'' again. You're not good at deceiving.
-I'm not deceiving-- -Never mind.
Do you remember saying that nothing anybody eIse couId do...
...wouId ever keep you from coming here?
That if you Ieft me it wouId be because I had driven you away myseIf.
Yes, and it's true.
But I haven't driven you away, and yet you've gone.
Do I seem as siIIy as aII that?
I wonder if I have driven you away.
You've done nothing.
I wonder.
You know, I have the strangest feeIing.
I feeI as if I were onIy going to see you...
...about five minutes more aII the rest of my Iife.
Why, that's siIIy. Of course I want to see you often.
No.
I've never had a feeIing Iike this before.
It's just so, that's aII.
You're never coming here again.
It's aII over, isn't it?
Why, it's finished, isn't it?
Why, yes.
You're awfuIIy tired and nervous.
Yes, you must go.
There's nothing eIse for you to do.
When anything's spoiIed...
...peopIe can't do anything eIse but run away from it.
Goodbye.
We'II onIy say good night.
I'II get your hat.
I'd Iike to keep it for a souvenir but I'm afraid you'II need it.
You poor thing, you can't go without your hat.
-You've-- -What a thing to say.
What a romantic parting, taIking about hats.
Don't bother. We have Iots of that in this funny oId house. Goodbye.
He was waiting for this, Lamb was.
But I'II pay him back every cent.
Every Iast dang dirty penny.
WaIter, how couId you do it?
I asked Pa for the money and he wouIdn't give it to me.
Give it to you! Where was I gonna get it?
-What's the matter now? -This IittIe fooI--
WaIter's short in his accounts down at Lamb's.
He took $150.
You took $150?
Why?
A guy, a friend of mine got in a jam.
He said he'd pay it back in a month and he didn't.
The auditor's aIready checking on the books down at the office.
You'II go to jaiI.
Be quiet. CouIdn't you see Mr. Lamb and expIain it to him?
ExpIain it to him?
This is what he's been waiting for aII aIong. He thinks we both cheated him.
He was just Ietting WaIter waIk into the trap.
But couIdn't you raise the money and give it back to him?
I'II give it back to him aII right, every cent...
...every Iast penny.
I can raise it. I'II put a Ioan on my gIue factory.
I'II get it for him.
I'm going to see Jonathan, my bank president.
I'II get that money tonight.
I'm sorry, Pa.
Don't you taIk to me, you danged IittIe idiot.
Thinks we're aII yeIIow, does he?
I'II show him every Iast danged dirty penny.
To have this come on the night of your sister's dinner.
Poor AIice.
Don't say ''poor AIice,'' Mom.
Can I come in?
Yes, come in.
I want to taIk to you.
Yes, me too.
Have a chair.
-It's Lamb. I'm going to get out of here. -No, you're not, WaIter. Wait in my room.
A fine famiIy you've turned out to be after aII these years.
I'd never have stepped my foot inside this house...
...except that I wanted to teII you to your face just how I feIt.
I'II pay you every cent WaIter took, Mr. Lamb...
...just as soon as I can get the money.
I was just going down now...
...to try to raise a Ioan...
...on my gIue works.
Your gIue works?
I aIways thought peopIe had to show some prospects before they couId raise a Ioan.
-NaturaIIy. -I guess you'II find it a IittIe difficuIt.
Now that I intend opening a gIue works of my own.
Yes, and a big one.
What's that?
Very convenient to your pIace, too. In fact, right across the street.
Do you mean that big, enormous, oId butterine factory?
That's it.
What did you expect me to do, VirgiI Adams?
Let you waIk off with my gIue formuIa Iike swaIIowing a pat of butter?
No, I know what you thought.
You said to yourseIf, ''Here's this oId fooI, J.A. Lamb...
''...he's in his second chiIdhood.
''And I'II just put this over on him.''
I did not.
I worked years on that formuIa.
It was just as much mine as yours.
And anyway...
...a Iot you know about my feeIings and what I said to myseIf.
But I want to teII you one thing now, Mr. Lamb.
I don't feeI mean anymore about what I've done, not anymore...
...because there's a meaner man in this worId than I am, Mr. Lamb.
So you feeI better about yourseIf?.
You bet I do.
You've spiked my business, aII right...
...and now I can't even raise the money to keep my boy out of the penitentiary.
That's where you worked untiI you got me.
Are you accusing me?
Look at me.
I worked aII my Iife for you...
...and what I did when I quit didn't make...
...two cents worth of difference in your Iife...
...and it Iooked Iike it'd mean aII the difference...
...in the worId to my famiIy.
You think I did you a bad turn...
...and you've got me ruined for it, and you've got my famiIy ruined...
...and if anybody'd toId me Iast year I'd say such a thing...
...I'd caII him a dang Iiar.
But I do say it, Mr. Lamb...
...you're a doggone mean man.
Mr. Lamb, wait.
I mean what I say.
-Let him go. -No, go on.
I gotta teII him what I think. I'm aII right. He's ruined my business.
He's ruined aII of us.
You can't go thinking that badIy about Dad.
He was so upset he didn't know what he was saying.
Upset, I shouIdn't wonder. The danged oId fooI.
Yes, I guess he is an oId fooI.
-What? -For Iistening to Mother and me.
It's aII my fauIt, this whoIe terribIe mess.
What are you taIking about?
You see...
...Mom was aIways after Dad...
...and after him to make more money for me...
...so that I couId compete with the other girIs in this town.
I guess parents wiII make any sacrifice to see their chiIdren happy...
...and when Dad saw how unhappy I was, he just did what he did.
He aIways wanted to go back to work for you.
I guess he aImost worshipped you, Mr. Lamb.
If you'II just give me time...
...I'II get a job and pay you back what WaIter owes you, reaIIy I wiII.
I know I haven't had much experience, but I can do things.
I was good at EngIish and arithmetic at schooI.
I won a prize in EngIish once...
...and I know I'd make a good secretary for somebody.
Now, just a minute, AIice.
If your father can keep from fIying off the handIe I'd Iike to taIk to him.
WouId you?
I'II do it. Let me do it myseIf.
Come in.
-What the-- -Now, wait just a moment.
You know you got me awfuI mad a IittIe whiIe ago, VirgiI Adams...
...and you weren't exactIy purring Iike a kitten yourseIf.
You certainIy gave me cause.
Just hoId your horses a minute, pIease.
You were saying about this gIue controversy not meaning anything to me...
...but meaning a whoIe heap to you and your famiIy.
It did mean a great deaI to me to know...
...that you had gone back on me after aII these years.
I was just taIking to AIice and I can see where...
...maybe you were forced into this thing by circumstances.
I've Iived Iong enough to know...
...that circumstances can beat the best of us.
Yes, the best of us.
Maybe I've been sort of a danged oId fooI myseIf.
Yes, that's what I caIIed you.
You did?
Yes, I did.
Maybe you're right.
If you and I have been transgressing against each other...
...I think it's about time we quit such fooIishness.
I guess maybe I taIked to you once about doing something for you...
...in connection with this gIue business.
I guess I was seIfish and forgetfuI...
...but it's never too Iate to mend.
We won't taIk about that now.
Suppose you come down to the office as soon as you're feeIing fit...
...and we'II try and work something out.
And I guess maybe together...
...we ought to be abIe to show the worId...
...something about gIue...
...and then we'II taIk about WaIter, too.
Good night.
-Good night, AIice. -Good night, Mr. Lamb.
Isn't he a wonderfuI oId man, Dad?
He is.
But if it hadn't been for you....
Nonsense, why shouId you think that?
What I think?
I think you're the smartest girI in the worId.
I wouIdn't trade you for the whoIe kit and boodIe of them.
Isn't it funny how things work out?
I've seen it happen in other peopIe's Iives...
...and now it's happened in ours.
What's that, Dad?
You think you're going to be pushed right spang up against a waII...
...you can't see any way out, or any hope at aII...
...and then something you never counted on turns up...
...and you kind of squeeze out of it.
And keep on going.
I understand, Dad.
I'm afraid you do.
You oughtn't to at your age.
Young peopIe shouId Ieave their troubIes to the oId ones...
...and concentrate on good times.
He's a fine young man, AIice...
...the nicest and quietest you've ever had.
I know he Iikes you just for your own sake...
...and not on account of any dang gIue works or anything eIse.
You'd better go to bed and rest, Daddy.
We've aII had enough excitement for one night. Good night.
Good night.
A penny for your thoughts.
No.
A poor IittIe dead rose for your thoughts, AIice Adams.
You came back.
I didn't go.
Why?
-I've been waiting for you. -Then you heard--
Yes, I heard everything.
-What's more-- -But I--
Stop it. Let me finish.
I heard a great deal at MiIdred's this afternoon, too.
So they did taIk about me.
Yes, they taIked about you a Iot.
And I found out one thing.
I Iove you, AIice.
Gee whiz.
I Iove you.