The Sleeping Tiger

Madam!

I'm glad you're back.

Thank you, Sally.

Are you waiting to see Dr Esmond?

Yes.

Oh, I see.

I'm Mrs Esmond. Won't you sit down?

Why did you leave a patient in the sitting room, Sally?

He isn't a patient, he's staying here in the house.

- Oh. Where? - In the Doctor's room.

Oh, I see.

Yes, and he's to be treated just like one of the family.

Really?

Of course, it's not for me to speak against the Doctor,

but that man's a thief, he's a criminal!

How do you know?

I heard the Doctor tell Miss Duncan this morning.

He held the Doctor up with a gun

and instead of being put in jail where he belongs,

he's staying in the house for six months to undergo...

Therapy.

- And you don't approve? - It's not up to me to approve.

But I'm not staying in the house with a gunman.

I'm giving in my notice.

When do you leave?

The sooner the better.

Hello, Carol. Is Clive around?

Glenda!

- We didn't expect you. - Goodbye, Doctor.

That's fairly obvious.

- Glenda! - Hello, Clive.

What happened?

Bad weather chase you home?

No, Paris was beautiful and I was bored.

So was I.

Always am when you're away.

This time you must have been really bored.

- Oh, then you've heard? - Yes.

And Sally's given notice.

She doesn't approve of common thieves as houseguests.

I'm not sure I do either.

Look, Glenda, it's one thing to practise psychology in a prison ward.

It's something else again to have your patient in ideal circumstances.

The boy's young, he's intelligent.

If I can find out what makes him tick I may be able to straighten him out.

The other way, well,

it's a complete waste of a human being.

If he goes to prison again, he's finished, I'm sure of that.

Prison again?

Yes, he has a record. I've had Carol on research all morning.

- Pretty lurid stuff. - Oh yes, he's tough enough.

But he's immature and unhappy,

and I think frightened under that hard shell of his.

Frightened?

I'd say frightening.

Robbery with violence, assault...

robbery.

How are his manners?

Is he passable?

Oddly enough, he's no slum product.

Army family, good school.

That's what makes it so interesting.

But if you don't like the idea,

and I'm not at all keen on your doing the housework,

I'll call it off.

Why?

You know you've had your heart set on something like this for years.

Besides, we've never had a criminal for a houseguest.

At least one we knew about!

It may be interesting.

It may be dangerous, too.

Don't worry about me,

he doesn't frighten me in the least.

What does frighten me is the thought of replacing Sally.

Oh, a drink before dinner?

I'll be right with you.

- Thank you, darling. - Don't mention it.

Sorry, Mr Clemmons, I've been away and didn't know who you were.

- But now you do. - Yes.

I hope you've been made comfortable.

Why?

Why?

Because you're a guest in my home.

A guest?

The Doctor and I made a deal. This is better than going to jail.

Why pretend it's anything else?

I'm not a guest, Mrs Esmond, I'm a prisoner.

- Ah, so you've met already? - Yes, twice.

Good, good.

Sherry or... or whisky, Frank?

Whisky and water.

Whisky and water it is. You been reading?

Hmm? Oh, just browsing.

Browsing?

You have to read that one!

I've read it.

Do you do much reading?

Not as much as I used to.

That's my problem too.

- Do you like sports? - No.

No shooting, no fishing? Too bad.

- Do you ride? - No.

You ought to. Mrs Esmond's a great rider.

Perhaps Glenda would take you with her some time, hmm?

Perhaps.

Darling, I'd have cancelled the silly lecture like a shot

if I'd known you were coming back.

You never cancelled a lecture in your life.

Oh, he did once, Glenda.

Remember the year of the big fog?

Telephone for Mr Clemmons.

Excuse me.

Hello?

What a night you've given me.

I followed you there,

waited around all day.

It took me forever to find out the phone number. What's up?

Don't call me here.

A friend of mine.

Someone you'd like to see?

No, not particularly.

What I meant was, feel free to bring him here.

- Any of my friends? - Any of them.

What if one of them should be in trouble?

What sort of trouble?

When your friends are in trouble, you don't ask why or what.

You help them.

Ask anybody you like.

For the next six months, I'd like you to consider this your home.

And what if one of my friends should be... a woman?

How would Mrs Esmond feel if I brought a woman to the house?

Ask anybody you like.

Don't worry...

I won't.

Goodbye. Be brilliant.

Am I ever less?

- Sure you'll be all right? - Of course.

Good. Home by 11.

- Or 12. - Come on!

Up, up.

- Very busy man, the Doctor. - Yes.

He lectures...

writes.

I read one of his books this afternoon.

In it he said that childhood is the thing that counts.

You know, parents and children.

But he's wrong.

People are born the way they are.

Well... so you do talk after all.

You're an American, aren't you?

Yes.

And you're a little Caesar.

More coffee?

No, thank you.

A gentleman occasionally lights a lady's cigarette.

And a lady doesn't make a point of it if he hasn't.

Hurt yourself?

I sprained my wrist.

Of course. Clive's army training.

Unluckily you ran into the wrong man.

Because Clive's quite a guy, even if he does write books.

Congratulations, Mrs Esmond.

Sure you won't have some more coffee?

Quite sure.

Would you have used that gun on Clive if he hadn't have gotten it away from you?

No.

Then why do you carry it?

Why do you ask?

Does it fascinate you?

No.

It makes me sick.

I despise hoodlums of any kind.

They're not one bit glamorous.

They're just stupid little animals asking for cages.

I can respect a rebel if it's intelligent rebellion but...

I hate stupidity.

Is that all, Mrs Esmond?

No.

I don't mind this experiment of Clive's,

even though I think it's a waste of time.

If it interests him at all it's all right with me and I'll help him all I can.

Take you riding or teach you hymns.

But this is my home too

and there's one thing I won't tolerate and that's rudeness.

The kind you've showed all day

or bad manners of any sort.

I hope that's clear to you, Mr Clemmons.

Goodnight.

It's all right, I won't bite you.

- Nice people, the Esmonds. - Too nice.

Soft in the head to have you staying in the house.

What do you mean?

You know what I mean.

I know all about you, Mr Clemmons.

You've seen my picture in the papers, have you?

Picture in the papers indeed!

I know why you're here.

You ought to be in jail, right now.

Yes, I know I ought but I'm not.

And I'm beginning to be rather glad that I'm not.