Daisy Kenyon

Wait for me. I'll only be a minute.

- I can't wait. - Sure you can. I do that all the time.

I don't care what you do all the time, mister. It ain't right to hold a cab these days.

There used to be 11,811 cabs operating in New York City.

- Now there's less than 10,000. - Okay, you won the case.

Right now every New York cab has to take care of 1,156 people, and that's a lot-

I said you won the case. Do you have to convert me too? Here. Keep it.

- Hello, Mr. O'Mara. - Evening, honeybunch.

Hello, pet.

I told you I had a date for dinner.

Anybody want a cup of coffee?

No, thanks. But I'd like some cream.

- Uh-uh, Angelus. - I'll definitely start my diet-

Tomorrow. I know.

Well, anyway, you finished my upper part.

And don't forget. This is the only place I ever eat.

When are you going to let me come live with you, Daisy?

When you reduce your suitor traffic.

Here's the cream, honeybunch.

- All right, darling. Get up and live. - Thank you.

That's the last of the Eberhardt series.

It's half past time I got dressed for dinner.

Don't girls ever die in bed in your magazines?

Sure-suffocation, but I don't like it.

With a pillow over my face, I look like anybody.

How about Monday at 9:00? We start on the Fuller job.

Swell. See you Monday.

- Have a good time, honeybunch. - Good night, Mr. O'Mara.

- Good night, Angelus. - Good night, Daisy.

- I've got to get dressed. - I can't stay, pet.

I tried to call you all afternoon, but your line was busy.

- I can't make dinner at the Latimers' tomorrow. - Oh, honestly. Do you realize...

this is the third time we've made a date with the Latimers and you've broken it?

- Honey, if you let me talk l- - Why should I?

I don't intend to believe a word you're going to say.

Once, yes. But three times in a row.

Make it the week after next, and I'll be there if it kills me.

I will not. You don't have to go anywhere with me.

We just won't plan anything at all.

Come on, Tubby.

Sure you don't want some coffee?

No, thank you. I don't want any coffee.

Going to rain.

Oh, fine. Let's make conversation.

Do you think there'll be rain for the entire eastern seaboard this weekend?

I hope not. I'm going to Washington. Hard enough to get a taxi when it isn't raining.

Washington? How thrilling.

Harry S. Want your advice on atomic energy?

Now, look. Your being mad is silly, and you know it.

I've never broken a date unless I couldn't help it. Unless something really important-

- Thanks. - I don't mean you're not important.

But we can go to the Latimers' next week, and we can see each other anytime.

Do you realize in all this time, ever since the Latimers first introduced us...

that we haven't made a single other mutual friend?

Those stairs of yours are driving me nuts.

Why don't you live someplace civilized?

That apartment on 63rd Street- I can't hold it forever.

You're determined to have a good row, aren't you?

This is my apartment. It's been my apartment since I started to work in New York.

I like it, and I'm keeping it.

You're making plenty of money yourself.

I have a theory that you stay in this hovel just to punish me.

- And another thing- - I don't think we have time for a single other thing.

I think we won't see each other anymore, Dan.

I think I'm through.

Do we have to go through all this again?

No, we don't have to go through anything again.

I have to fight to stay happy- fight for everything.

My life's all mixed up with you every way I turn. And what fun is it?

I've tried, and you've tried.

It isn't all your fault.

There just isn't enough.

At least for me there isn't.

You've got her, and you've got the kids.

You've got your work and being a big shot in Washington.

I've just got my work.

You messed that up too.

When I'm mad I can't work, and I'm mad all the time.

You're never going to marry me, because you're never going to be divorced for all you say.

- That's not fair- - You're never going to be divorced, Dan, because you don't want to be.

Believe me, I'm not being sorry for myself.

I knew it would be like this.

It's just that I'm tired. That's all. Tired and through.

I'll get out whenever you tell me to...

but I want you to tell me because you mean it, not because you're angry.

Are you really telling me now?

- I said I was. - You know I don't like scenes.

I'll get out now, and I won't come back, if you tell me.

Darling.

Will you ever believe I mean what I say?

That depends on what you say.

I was taking a client of mine out to dinner tonight- Payton Ames, the novelist.

I'll call him up and tell him to forget it.

I told you I had a date for dinner...

and you needn't think that getting around me is going to change my mind.

You're most of my life, Daisy-

the only part of it that matters.

- We can't stop. - I've tried.

Honestly, I've tried. And I will one day too.

All right, you will.

You stop sometime, maybe next year, next week...

but not this week.

All right. Not this week.

Now go on. Beat it. My date's due.

Good night.

Good night, Dan.

Taxi!

- Wait for me. - Hey, taxi!

Sorry, I'm keeping him.

Isn't right to hold a cab these days.

Every New York cab has to do for 1,156 people.

Anyway, Miss Kenyon won't be ready.

Oh, she's expecting you, but I'm afraid I delayed her a little bit.

Go right up. I'll send the cab back when I'm through with it.

He ain't paid.

That's okay. I'll take care of that and double the rest.

- 8883 Park. Just get going. - Okay.

- Hello, Miss Kenyon. - Hello.

- Am I too early? - No, I'm a very sloppy gal and never on time.

- A friend dropped in, and I couldn't start changing. - That's all right.

I've got a whole week before I report back, so take your time.

Come on in and mix yourself a drink, will you?

Right there.

I won't be too long.

Well, hello, beautiful.

How do you do? Yes.

- You still here? - I should say.

Everything seems to go wrong when you're in a hurry. You know how it is.

Ah, it's all right.

We've become very close friends.

- You like Tubby? - Ah, he's a beauty.

I think it's stopped raining.

Would you like the Brevoort for dinner? I haven't been there since before the war.

I'd love it.

Where are your ribbons?

Oh, I must've left them at the cleaners.

You must've been worse off at that party last night than you thought you were.

I'm always worse off than I think I am.

Don't you remember giving these to me?

I always give them away when I find somebody who will listen to me.

Why did you ask me 400 times last night if I were real?

Why not? Nothing else here is real.

When I came back from Europe the first time after V-E Day...

they changed Sixth Avenue into something called "Avenue of the Americas."

It wasn't New York. It wasn't home.

That's why I went back to Germany with the Army of Occupation.

Hmm. Germany, where nothing was changed, of course.

You going to be in the army all your life?

I'd intended to, until I met you.

- Miss Angelus tells me you're a yacht designer. - Used to be.

I remember now. You designed the Lapham Six Meter.

There were beautiful photographs of boats in the magazines by a Susy Lapham.

- Was that someone in your family? - My wife.

Say, what is it with you guys?

Don't any of you ever go back to the wives you left when you went to war?

Excuse me.

- Hello? - Your cab, lady.

I took that party up to Park. He said to come back, you'd be waiting.

Be down in a minute.

Seems my friend sent his cab back for us.

They're hard to get in the rain. He must've been lucky.

He was. He took mine. Sure, let's go.

He can be very rude at times. He was, I suppose.

I didn't notice.

We were talking about your wife.

You were, yes. She's dead.

Okay, honeybunch.

Well, don't you worry. If they get you, I promise to visit you in Leavenworth...

with flowers.

- Good night. - Danny, darling.

The office telephoned again. There just isn't a drawing room on that train.

They tried and tried. You wanted it to work in, didn't you?

What did you think I wanted it for?

Oh, I'm sorry, baby. Mervyn!

Dan, he's right behind you.

- Yes, sir? - Mervyn, it's the 12:30 I'm taking.

Bring my bag and my briefcase down to Penn Station and meet me at the track gate.

- Yes, sir. - Dan, you work too hard. You know you do. Even Father thinks so.

Well, you never get a decent vacation.

- Mr. Harris. - You're stuck here all summer. Half the time, no weekend.

- I don't see how you do it. One of these times- - Hello, Harris. Lucille, please.

Look, honeybunch, I'm home, and I'm relaxing, so call me in Washington, will you?

Right. So long.

Dan, what are you going to Washington for anyway?

Officially I'm going down to present a brief to S.E.C. On Amalgamated Gas.

- But while I'm there- - I could never remember that. Never mind.

I don't know what you're doing, but no one expects me to anymore, so it doesn't matter.

You think I know what I'm doing, baby?

- Where are the girls? - Rosamund's primping. She's terribly excited.

Danny, I do wish you'd consulted me before you told her she could go with us tonight.

Thirteen's no age for the Stork Club.

- What's the harm in it? Where's Marie? - She's doing her homework.

She's getting awfully independent too, Dan. I don't know what-

Well, how do you like?

Fifty million dollars, honey.

Rosamund, if you don't take off some of that lipstick, you're not going with us.

- I've told you twice now. - Dan, do you think it's too much?

Of course it is, but it's very attractive.

Rosamund, you heard me.

Mommy, I'm not that young. You forget my name's O'Mara...