Three Coins in the Fountain

Pardon me. Are you Maria Williams?

- Yes, I am. - Oh, I'm Anita Hutchins.

- Hi. - Hi.

Mr. Burgoyne sent me down to meet you.

- I'm with the agency. - Oh.

- Here, let me take your bag. - Thank you.

We're over here. Come on.

- This is your apartment? - You like it?

I'm awed!

Secretaries live very well in Rome.

You'll get spoiled after a while. Frances!

Yes?

I'm having breakfast on the balcony. Come on out.

- Welcome to Rome. - Thank you.

Did you have any trouble finding her?

No. I picked her out the first try.

- Have you had any breakfast? - I can't remember.

Then have some with us. Anna!

Oh, my, oh, my!

Oh, what a beautiful way to live.

I'm glad you like it.

When Anita leaves, I was going to suggest...

- I've already told her. - Anna. This is Miss Williams.

Buon giorno, signorina.

How do you do?

What would you like?

Oh, anything, thank you.

I don't think I could afford anything as elegant as this,

or even half of it.

I promise you can. You're paid at the agency in dollars.

The rate of exchange is in your favor.

- Are you with the agency too? - No.

I'm John Frederick Shadwell's secretary.

The man who wrote Winter Harvest?

- Mm-hmm. - No less.

Mm. He's a great writer, isn't he?

He's a great man.

I thought he was dead.

Most people do,

that's because he hasn't been back to America

since his early 20s.

Frances has been with him for 15 years.

Gosh. Oh, when do I meet my boss?

After breakfast. We'll all drive to work together.

You'll meet him in plenty of time.

There's nothing rushed in Rome.

Oh, I'm going to like Rome, at any rate of exchange.

What's that?

That's the Fountain of Trevi.

Do you want to see it?

If you throw a coin into the pool,

you're supposed to get your wish.

Only the wish must always be the same thing.

That you'll return again to Rome.

I've tossed a coin into the fountain every April

for the last... 15 years.

It's my spring ritual. It's time to throw one in again.

- Don't you want to wish? - Oh, yes.

Keep me in Rome at least a year, Mr. Fountain.

No! No, no.

You have to turn around. Throw it over your shoulder.

Oh.

Bring me... another year of contentment,

whatever gods are listening. A penny's worth of hope.

Aren't you going to wish?

No. I don't want to come back to Rome.

Anita's going home to be married.

Oh, then I don't blame you. Don't tempt fate.

- Good morning, Eleanor. - Good morning, Anita.

This is my desk.

You'll share it with me for the time being.

Oh, when do I meet Mr. Burgoyne?

I'll see if he's in.

Yes?

Good morning, Mr. Burgoyne.

Miss Williams is here. Shall I bring her in?

Not at all. I'll come out.

Boss loves to make a good impression.

Oh, any particular instructions?

No. Just be yourself.

Well, well, well, Miss Williams. Welcome to U.S.D.A.

I abbreviate the name of the agency.

It's the age of the alphabet.

Oh, I see. Thank you.

We hope you like Rome and the agency, Miss Williams.

- Thank you. I'm sure I will. - Good, good, good.

I thought I'd spend the morning

showing Maria how we operate here.

Fine, fine, fine. Oh!

Mrs. Burgoyne is giving a cocktail party this afternoon.

Anita, if you and Miss Williams are not otherwise occupied,

Mrs. Burgoyne would like to meet Miss Williams.

Thank you. I'd love to meet Mrs. Burgoyne.

We'll expect you, then.

- Buon giorno. - Buon giorno, signorina.

Oh. Good morning.

I didn't think you'd be up.

- I've been up all night. - I must say, you look it.

Well, you might show a little more consideration

for a man who's just written 20,000 words.

You've started it.

I got home at midnight intoxicated with an idea.

I worked myself into a creative hangover.

- Let me fix you some coffee. - No. No, thanks.

While you type these up, I'm going to fall into bed.

Well, I'm glad you've given up writing articles

and started back to work on a novel, again.

- I was afraid you were afraid. - What do you mean by that?

Oh, nothing. I was worried for fear the critics

had intimidated you after that last one.

- I should have known better. - Of course you should have.

I write for myself, not the critics.

You'll be pleased to know

the old master is back in stride again.

I'm rather anxious to hear what you think about the start.

Not only do I consider it magnificent,

but I have a sneaking suspicion it's pretty good.

Get some sleep.

I'll knock on your door in time for you

to make it to the Burgoyne cocktail party.

Not I.

I have no intention of exposing myself

to that dreary assemblage.

When I get up, I'm gonna stroll through the gardens of

the Villa Borghese in solitary contentment.

But I've already accepted the invitation in your name.

Then jolly well make an excuse in my name.

Do you know what people say when I mention I work for you?

Something envious, I presume.

They say, "Oh, I thought he was dead."

Do they, indeed?

You can't be as antisocial as you are

and still expect people to know you're alive.

So they think that I'm dead, do they?

Hmm.

Well, well.

Wake me at 4:00.

I'll make an appearance to prove my public

only half right.

When these come in from Washington,

they have to be translated into Italian.

By me?

Oh, no. We have interpreters here.

Giorgio, would you come in for a minute, please?

Giorgio handles our translations for us.

Then they're given to Mr. Burgoyne

for clearance with the Italian bureau.

- Good morning, Miss Anita. - Oh. Good morning.

Maria, this is Giorgio Bianchi. Giorgio, this is Maria Williams.

She'll be taking my place when I leave.

If I can be of any help, please call me.

I heard you were returning to America, Miss Anita.

I shall... We shall miss you.

Oh. Thank you.

Here, would you make a translation of these

- for Mr. Burgoyne, please? - Yes, Miss Anita.

Well!

I forgot to tell you. There's a policy here.

Secretaries are not allowed to go out with local employees.

Mr. Burgoyne's policy, if you please.

How do you manage it, then?

Giorgio?

We've never exchanged more than two words.

- He's just part of the office. - Oh.

Does his hand always shake when he gets near to you?

You're imagining things. He doesn't even know I exist.

Oh! He doesn't know anyone else exists.

He didn't even notice whether I was a blonde or a brunette...

Well, you're wrong.

Call him in.

I just want to look at those beautiful brown eyes again.

- Not brown, they're blue. - Oh.

I mean... It's a good thing I'm going home.

With you around here,

I'd be in a puddle of trouble in no time.

Here, sit down and open those up for me.

Mr. Shadwell, I don't care what the critics said.

I want you to know I just adored your last novel.

Unfortunately, there were not enough of you.

Tell me, do you get your best ideas at night?

I always do.

Invariably, but hardly material to write about.

My husband declares that I was simply born to be a writer.

He says if anyone just took a pencil and followed me around,

they'd have a novel.

My dear lady,

I should be delighted to get behind you with a pencil.

Excuse me.

We've learned from long experience

this is the best way to pass the time.

So, this is Rome, where the pigeons eat caviar.

And the secretaries eat alone.

Look, did you ever see such a handsome car?

You ever see such a handsome man?

- It's Prince di Cessi. - A prince? Do you know him?

He's a friend of Mr. Shadwell's. Part of the Roman scene.