The Rains of Ranchipur

The salon is there, and Lady Esketh has chosen this compartment.

Her maid will be in the next car. And this compartment―

Everything seems fine. Thank you.

It is our privilege, Lord Esketh.

Who is it?

Alan. Come in, Alan.

I missed you at dinner.

So the mountain― That's me―

Has come to Muhammad― That's you.

Do you remember the first time we went to New Orleans?

We had dinner at Arnauld's.

Oysters. Turtle soup with sherry.

Trout amandine. Ice-cold green salad.

Cherries jubilee.

And as the climax to a perfect dinner. . .

and a perfect day,

café diable.

And you said, ‘‘Alan, if you could learn the secret of making that,

I might marry you after all.''

Well, I did and you did,

and all on account of a lousy cup of coffee.

Whew!

Getting you to laugh is a major accomplishment.

I know, darling.

Aren't you having a good time? You said it would be exciting.

Did I? Well, I was wrong.

Well, we'll get to Ranchipur in the morning,

and we'll put up at the palace.

I'll talk the maharani out of her prized stallion.

It shouldn't take long. I'm told she needs the money.

We should be on our way back to Lahore in three or four days.

Then we'll grab a plane back to London.

Then Greenview.

Do you realize we've never been home in July?

Didn't I tell you? We're going to Antibes.

We'll fly to Paris and take the train to the Riviera.

I thought you didn't like it at the height of the season.

There were too many tourists, you always said.

And there'll be that French baron,

Andre what's his name.

Yes.

Would you mind very much if I didn't go?

Of course I'd mind.

We're going to Antibes, you and I together.

We're going in the same plane. We're going to stay in the same hotel. . .

and in the same suite,

though not in the same room.

Is that clear?

Yes, perfectly.

I should think you'd know by now.

You can squander as much of my money as you want.

You can pick up all the tabs and buy all the horses. . .

and spend whatever you decide on your dear mother and your delicate sister.

But when you and I don't want the same things,

you'll do what I want.

You know, Edwina, I sometimes wonder why you bothered to marry me.

Do you really wanna know?

For a number of reasons, really,

and some more important than others.

I liked the title.

All poor little girls want to become princesses,

and so do rich little girls.

And you're not ugly, Alan.

Besides, a husband gives me a kind of protection.

Sometimes, I used to be lonely.

Now I never am.

'Cause when there's nothing better to do, you're always around.

And you are amusing, darling.

Someday, when I'm disgusted enough. . .

or ashamed enough or drunk enough,

I may tell you why I married you.

Tell me now.

Some other disenchanted evening, perhaps.

Tell me now.

Well, there was your money, of course.

But then, I've known lots of women with money.

True, none of them had as much as you, but then, I didn't need quite that much.

No, I married you for a very different reason.

You see, you may not believe it, but I still have a few standards.

A little bloody, a little frayed, but more or less unbowed.

I don't like to hurt people.

You were perfect for me.

All the money in the world and no heart.

You couldn't possibly be hurt. . .

because you're the most greedy, the most selfish,

the most decadent, the most corrupt―

Good night, Edwina.

Lord Esketh, we are honored by your and Her Ladyship's presence.

I am Mr. Adoani. I'm the personal emissary of Her Highness,

the Maharani of Ranchipur.

We have planned for you just a little tour,

and a concert of native music has been arranged at the music school.

Mr. Adoani, Lady Esketh isn't feeling very well.

She'd like to go to the palace at once. Oh. Of course.

In the meantime, I should point out the items of interest as we pass along.

So sorry.

So sorry.

It's all right.

Thank you, Mr. Adoani. You're welcome, Lord and Lady Esketh.

Good-bye.

Your Highness. My house welcomes you.

It's good of you to have us, Your Highness.

I enjoy having handsome people around me.

I have never been in America,

but I understand it is a beautiful country and very rich.

I hope you find your quarters habitable.

I'm sure we will.

And now, you must have some tea.

Lemon? Milk for both of us.

May I smoke? Yes, do.

But for me, no cigarettes, I'm afraid. It is the same with sweets.

I am forbidden even the smallest taste.

Once, I was able to indulge myself.

But in the last year or so, I have been forced to admit. . .

that my youth, it's near its end.

Maturity approaches.

You're very beautiful, Your Highness.

How kind, and how untrue.

I fear you have chosen an unfortunate season to come to Ranchipur.

We're all now praying for the rains to begin.

However, rains or not, I believe we can entertain you.

In the morning, we shall visit the stables.

Tomorrow night, I'm giving a small dinner in your honor.

It will not be very grand, but you will meet some interesting people,

particularly Dr. Safti.

He is my late husband's most brilliant success.

There are men― very few men ever―

who have what your President Roosevelt once called. . .

‘‘a rendezvous with destiny.''

Well, at my age, I have few enthusiasms.

Dr. Safti's one of them. But you will see for yourselves.

Tonight, I thought you would probably prefer dinner alone in your rooms.

You must be very tired.

But some evening before you leave,

I thought we might, uh―

we might play some cards.

Would that please you?

I invariably lose at cards, but I'm eternally optimistic. I love gambling.

Bridge? Canasta?

Well, personally, I prefer poker.

So do I !

I warn you, I shall win. I always win.

I insist on winning. I have been known to cheat to win.

Cleverly, of course. No one has ever caught me.

And I always win. And sometimes, I cheat.

Good. It will be better then.

Until tomorrow. Until tomorrow.

Your Highness.

He's magnificent. Asoka is the most beautiful stallion in the world.

Your Highness, I cannot go back to England without him.

I'll pay whatever you ask. For some things, there is no price, Lord Esketh.

I can never sell Asoka.

I shall try to make you change your mind.

I would be disappointed if you didn't.

In the meantime, I'd like to see some of the others, Your Highness.

Tom ! The same brat. You haven't changed a bit.

I don't believe it! Oh, it's good to see you.

Good to see you too. Perhaps I should introduce myself.

I'm the lady's husband. Oh, hello. I'm Tom Ransome.

I've known this one since she was this high. We're very old friends.

Yes, I can see. We came out here to buy some horses.

But naturally, the maharani is out trading us.

Oh, naturally. I'll look out for your interests.

Lady Esketh, I shall sue you for alienation of affections.

Tom pretends indifference to me,

but it is known everywhere that he is madly in love with me.

And you, Mr. Ransome, I shall sue for slander.

I shall collect too. I shall bribe both―

the judge and the jury.

I want to show you the mares.

Well, now that you're a lady, I assume you're behaving like one?

Oh, but, Tom, you know I always behave myself.

Just one more, please, Alonia. It feels wonderful.

Fern, you've got company.

Fern Simon memsahib?

That's. . . me.

Have message from Her Highness.

Oh. Thanks, girls.

From Her Highness? What is it?

‘‘The Maharani of Ranchipur, India respectfully requests. . .

‘‘the distinguished and esteemed presence of Miss Fern Simon. . .

‘‘at dinner honoring distinguished and esteemed guests of Her Highness,

‘‘their Excellencies Lord Alan and Lady Esketh of Norham and London, England.

8:00 p.m. RSVP.''

But of course she'll come.

I told you, daughter. I said she'd start inviting us.

Do you remember that reception I told you about?

And Grandma Holland? Well, it was after things got straightened out.

I mean, the war between the states.

Tell Her Highness I accept with pleasure.

I never will forget the first dance your father took me to.

I was only 16. He got there kind of early, about 7:00.

He was sittin' in the parlor― And you didn't know Pop was there,

and you walked into the room without a single stitch on. . .

except your slip and a couple dozen petticoats.

And that was the night Pop decided to marry you.

I'll wear my green chiffon.

It's not new, but Mother always said, ‘‘Quality, Maude. Quality.''

Mother, you're not invited. I'm invited. Just me.

But you can't go over there― Oh, Mother, don't be silly.