Dangerous

When shall I pick you up, sir?

Give me time for a couple of cocktails. Say, half an hour. - Yes, sir.

Mrs Farnsworth asks me to remind you you have a dinner engagement tonight.

Well, a half-hour will just give me time to change and make it.

By the way .. did Mrs Farnsworth mention with whom we are dining?

With the Lindens, sir. - Oh, the Lindens.

You'd better make it an hour, Williams.

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

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

No. - But I ..

You've made a mistake.

Perhaps I have .. pardon me.

Gentlemen.

How are you Mr Farnsworth? - Evening, Roger.

Anthony, a Sidecar, with just a splash more brandy than necessary.

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

Yes. That's why I stopped port and turned to brandy.

Your liver is far less conspicuous than your nose.

Do you chaps remember an actress Joyce Heath?

I'll never forget her as Camille .. Sappho.

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

What a vitally tempestuous creature she was.

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

That night I was in the rear of the theater.

Yet couldn't have been closer if I'd held her in my arms.

Not closer perhaps, but more interesting.

Quiet .. let the gentleman confess.

Joyce Heath never knew it.

But she prompted me to make a decision that changed the course of my whole life.

The career my family planned for me in Wall Street I discarded.

I suddenly got the urge to create.

I gave up writing as I couldn't write, and music because I couldn't play.

But I could draw ..

Three years in Paris taught me ..

Not defeat .. but compromise.

I still had enough of the urge left to try architecture.

I saw her tonight, just as I came in.

Dowdy, down and out .. and ashamed of being Joyce Heath.

She was tops.

What's the matter, Mr Hanley? Isn't the Highball right?

Oh .. the Highball. Yes, perfect .. why?

Well, you looked as if something tasted or smelt bad.

I would rather you wouldn't mention that. I was reading my own column.

Ted. - Yeah?

We want to ask you something.

Yes, it's a toupee.

What about Joyce Heath? She was a star.

She was too brilliant. Too startling for a star.

She was a comet, which appeared suddenly ..

Fell spectacularly, and disappeared completely.

That gentlemen, is a metaphor. One of the great actresses .. and Joyce Heath.

That's why I can't read his column. He writes that way, too.

Yes, but what happened to her, Ted?

Fantastic as it may sound .. a jinx. One she put on other people.

A jinx?

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

From then on .. everyone associated with her was haunted by failures, divorces ..

Suicides and scandals.

That's right. She practically lived on the front page.

At first, she laughed at the superstition .. then she believed it.

Last time I saw her, she was on a cheap Vaudeville tour.

Then she vanished. Like the magician's lady.

Sounds almost unbelievable, doesn't it.

But it happened.

Well, I've got to break into a trot if I want to change and pick up Gail in time.

We have a dinner date. - The Lindens?

The Lindens.

I think they get most of their guests from the tomb of Ramses The Second.

There's quite a few valuable Civil-War relics among them, too.

Goodnight. - Goodnight.

A clever boy, that.

One of the best architects in the country.

With his reputation and Gail Armitage connections, he'll come out alright.

By the way, when are they to be married? - It hasn't been arranged, yet.

How do you know?

Mrs Farnsworth hasn't heard. - Maybe they're keeping it a secret?

What, from my wife? Impossible.

Good evening, Cato. - Good evening.

I'm late, Cato. You'd better draw me a bath, lay out my dinner jacket and ..

Never mind the bath.

Did you ever try putting celluloid fish in the tub to entice him into it, Cato?

Gail, what are you doing here?

I finished early, so I came over to save you the trouble of driving out to get me.

Good for you.

Uh, Cato .. stew up a cocktail.

I don't want a cocktail, thank you.

Well, some hors d'oeuvres, Cato. - They always spoil my dinner.

Cato, you fix the young lady a ham sandwich whether she wants it or not.

Gail, what do you think? - That I love you.

Well, I'm pretty fond of myself this evening.

The bank is going to make the building loan.

Don, how marvelous! - Miraculous is the word.

All I have to do is put a hundred thousand in escrow.

But they could let you have the land now.

Don't worry about the petty cash. It will come out alright.

Think of starting on those estates, after dreaming about them for years.

I know exactly how they're going to look.

Unless I fall down, they'll be the most beautiful estates in the whole country.

And I can't fall down. I've worked too hard, I've waited too long to flop.

It seems as though it's all going to come through, doesn't it.

I guess we have everything, young lady. - And best of all, we have us.

Ham sandwich please.

No mustard. - No mustard?

No mustard. - Cato, go look for some mustard.

If you find any and bring it here, you'll go out of here looking like a hot-dog.

Happy? - Ecstatically. - Why?

Because dear, I have a very good sense. - You ineffable cad, you.

You adorable darling, you.

You must hurry and get dressed or we'll be late for the Lindens.

Can't we get out of it somehow? - No, we cannot.

You'll meet a lot of people there who can afford to buy your houses.

People who go to the Lindens don't need houses, they need tombs.

Gail and I couldn't stand it any longer.

Being the extra man at a Linden party is like being a spare corpse at a wake.

I could kiss you for getting us out of there.

I could too, if you didn't look so much like a horse that threw me once.

Be exact. There have been so many.

Delightful women you take up with. What shall we do?

You know what I'd like to do? - Steal a water melon?

Paint moustaches on a library lion.

One of you are bound to say something rude if this goes on.

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

An idea.

I'll send my driver home, and we'll all go in your car.

No you won't. I've got a tough day tomorrow. I want to get up early.

I don't want to spend tonight escorting you in, and carrying you out of a club.

Say, listen. I've never been carried to any place in my life.

Thrown, yes .. but carried, never.

Come on, let's not go home. Let's go in there and try some bird's nest soup.

How about a little high class sharp-shooting?

A harbor for flotsam and jetsam. A bit of O'Henry's.

You win.

A smart looking place. - Who's idea was this?

You can sit here.

I guess we'd better stand at the bar.

You'd better sit where he tells you to, dear.

Oh Don, this is such a depressing place. - You don't want to stay?

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

Some other time.

Well, you can chalk one up against me. I certainly can pick them.

Now where?

Oh, it's after 12 o'clock. Don's got to get to bed.

He's been working like a Trojan lately.

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

It would save me an hour, getting out and back.

Do you mind, Teddy?

No, not if he don't talk about Don. - Alright. Why don't you do it then?

I think I will. I've an early meeting in the morning. I'll call you after that.

Don't forget. - No.

Listen, you're coming to the club to see me play Polo next week aren't you?

Well, you mean to see the horse play and you get tired? I might.

Goodnight. - Goodnight, darling.

Goodnight. - Goodnight.

Do you mind if I sit down?

Not if you buy a drink. - Two of whatever the lady is drinking.

Straight gin.

I've seen you before. - Which doesn't make us old friends.

Well you see, one time, I ..

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

Thanks.

Not at all.

Rather ironical, isn't it?

Are you going to drink that?

Haven't you had enough?

Quite enough.

Goodnight Joyce Heath.

What did you say? - Joyce Heath.

I ..

Joyce Heath, the actress ..

Sitting in a dive like this swilling down cheap gin.

You must be drunk, too.

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

Lots of people look alike.

Joyce Heath was full of life.

I'll never forget the time I saw her. She was playing Juliet.

Do you remember the scene where you were told you had to marry Count Paris?

And you took the sleeping draught to pretend death until Romeo's return?

As your mother kissed you goodnight .. and left you.

You began: "farewell, God knows when we shall meet again".

Farewell .. God knows when we shall meet again.

A faint, cold fear thrills my veins.

And almost freezes out the heat of life.

I shall call them back to comfort me.

Nurse.

What should she do here?

My needs must act my dismal scene alone.

Come vial.

What if this mixture do not work?

Shall I, by force, be married to the Count?

No.

No .. this shall ..

This shall ..

Passed out?

I'll call the wagon. They'll throw her in the tank until the morning.

Waiter.

I'll take her home.

Okay buddy. Pay me twenty cents for them two drinks and she's yours.

Keep the change, boss? - Yes.

Okay.

Yes?