A Letter to Three Wives Page #4

On Addie Ross

and George Washington, nobody else.

You girls put your noses

back into joint. I wanna propose a toast.

First half of the glass to Deborah.

Welcome home, darling.

- Ill drink to that.

- Amen!

And the rest to our absentee hostess,

Addie.

- Perfect.

- To Addie.

- Let's show 'em a flash of old Vienna.

- Darling, if you don't mind...

- Before the floor gets crowded.

- I don't think I should.

Let's get into this, George. Something

tells me this is going to be quite a waltz.

- Brad.

- Having fun?

- Brad, listen.

- Hold on, baby.

- Once more.

- No!

Deborah, what on earth

have you done to yourself?

Brad, let me handle this.

Pardon my fingers.

- Here. Drink this.

- What is it?

A new inner tube.

There you are. I think that'll be all right.

- Thank you, Miss Jenkins.

- You're welcome.

Rita, will you take me home?

You've got the idea everybody out there

is watching that door

waiting for you to come out.

- Maybe not, but Brad is.

- Then it's because he's worried about you.

Its because he's ashamed!

In front of his friends,

ugly and pinned up, drunk and sick.

Oh, I wanted so much to be what

he wanted, to do what was right, like...

Like Addie Ross,

the right thing at the right time.

But I didn't, I couldn't. Im humiliated.

What happened tonight could have

happened to anyone.

Don't you realize that?

Then take my word for it.

Come on.

Why, there's Brad.

Well.

I see Addie got here after all.

- Is it Brad?

- Is it Brad?

- Is it Brad?

- Is it Brad?

Is it Brad?

Don't expect us back too soon.

We kids are going after everything

from sardines to wolves.

You'll have no trouble

finding wolves, honey.

- Almost lunchtime?

- Ive called a recess.

When your own fingers begin to look

like frankfurters, it's time for a slight rest.

I suppose it's occurred to you

that Lora Mae's kept herself as busy

as a bird dog ever since we got here.

The very thought of a hike wears me out.

Maybe she just doesn't wanna sit still.

You sit still,

you can't help thinking, can you?

- Depends on what you think about.

- Well, for instance,

why your husband should suddenly decide

to go to the city on a Saturday morning.

You mean Brad?

No. I meant Porter.

He was at the station this morning.

He nearly knocked me down

when I was mailing my copy.

Funny Lora Mae doesn't

seem to know about it.

Why did you think I meant Brad?

Maybe because it might

keep you from wondering

why George dressed up

on Saturday with no school.

You're being a little too touchy about a

perfectly inoffensive remark, seems to me.

Oh, let's stop this sudden bickering.

We're beginning to behave

like some movie about a women's prison.

Not a bad comparison at that.

- Cigarette.

- No, thanks.

Why wouldn't George

go fishing?

Why wouldn't George

go fishing?

Why the blue suit?

Why the blue suit?

He's crazy!

Sadie, doesn't that noise

drive you insane?

Restful, ain't it?

There. That's better.

Well, the twins are fed

and ready to be put away.

Now if George would only show up.

- How many canaps are you making?

- Two dozen.

The way I figure it, six healthy people

oughta be able to eat 2-or 300.

They're just appetizers, Sadie.

And let's get a couple of things straight.

- First, when you announce dinner...

- I know.

- Im not supposed to say, "Soup's on!"

- How did I tell you?

- I forgot.

- Dinner is served!

Dinner is served.

And you're not to say it as though

the food were poisoned.

As this fancy shmancy because two people

from the city are gonna eat here.

Mrs. Manleigh's a very important person.

She has charge of a great many radio

programs, including the one I write.

You know what I like about your programs.

Even when Im running the vacuum,

I can understand it.

Thank you so much.

Now, the second thing.

Does the new uniform fit?

- Its kinda corny.

- Wear it.

Only one thing. The cap is out. Makes me

look like a lamb chop with pants on.

- Oh, Sadie.

- The cap is out.

Sadie, please. Just this once.

Okay. Okay.

Hello?

Oh, hello, Mrs. Manleigh.

No. No, not at all.

I was just rereading the scripts for Monday.

No! Off!

What's that, Mrs. Manleigh?

Yes. Its a good connection.

About the script?

Oh. Well, Ill just have to

make the revisions tonight, that's all.

What? Oh, no, Mrs. Manleigh.

You've just got to come.

Ive looked forward

so to your meeting George,

in line with that matter we discussed,

remember, Mrs. Manleigh?

Yes, that's right.

He'll be just perfect for us. You'll see.

No, don't worry about that.

I always work best late at night anyway.

Yes. 7:
30. That'll be fine.

You can tell me about the changes

when you get here.

Fine. Good-bye, Mrs. Manleigh.

There's George.

Changes, changes.

When am I supposed to sleep?

What's, uh, Mr. Phipps gonna be

so perfect for on the radio?

Nothing, and you keep quiet about it.

I will. Only he won't.

Good evening one and all.

- Hello, George.

- Well, how now? Why the look of doom?

Ohhh.

Did you forget to baste the ducks?

Look. I don't teach you about teachin'.

Don't you teach me about duck.

Oh, Sadie's been an angel. Looks like Ill be

up most of the night making revisions.

Mrs. Manleigh just called.

But you're giving a dinner party

for her tonight.

She suggested calling it off,

but I wouldn't hear of it.

Why can't Mrs. Manleigh, just for once,

tell the sponsor to call off

his wife's revisions?

You don't tell a sponsor

things like that about his wife.

George, you just don't understand.

No, I suppose not. Well, it may not make

your bad news any better,

but I got good news.

Have you, darling? Oh, George,

10 of 7:
00. We've gotta get dressed.

- Don't you wanna hear my good news?

- Of course I do.

- Did you get the liquor and cigarettes?

- Right here.

Oh, now, you check the cigarette boxes

while I put the liquor away.

Why does everything have to be full

when guests arrive?

Full cigarette boxes, candy dishes.

Fresh cakes of soap.

Aren't we supposed to eat,

smoke or wash when we're alone?

- Where's the scotch?

- I didn't buy any.

Why not?

Too expensive.

Bourbon's a better drink anyway.

But the Manleighs

are a cinch to want scotch.

People in show business,

you know what I mean.

Those kind always drink scotch.

Well, I know what you mean, but I wish

you wouldn't say it in radio English.

"That kind," not "those kind."

There are men who say "those kind"

who earn $100,000 a year.

There are men who say, "Stick 'em up,"

who earn more. I don't expect to do either.

Nor are you expected to pay for the scotch.

You're quite right.

Funny how it slips my mind,

that in certain respects,

Im only the titular head of this house.

Oh. Don't be silly, darling.

I thought it very amusing to begin with.

Very, uh, modern and enlightened.

My tuxedo, for instance.

The same tuxedo that for some strange

reason you want me to wear tonight.

Well, what's so wrong about getting

dressed up once in a while?

Nothing at all, unless it's obviously

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