Alice Adams Page #7

They look pretty, honey.

- No, they don't.

- Come on.

No, don't go in by that door.

It might look as if we-

- What's the difference?

- Never mind. Come this way.

How terrible of me

to be so late coming down.

My father, Mr. Russell.

- How do you do, Mr. Russell?

- Mr. Adams.

I guess dinner's more than ready.

We ought to go sit down.

No, not yet, VirgiI.

- Why not?

- Sit down.

I'll try one.

What in the world...

Have a caviar sandwich, Mr. Russell.

Caviar.

These are delicious, Mother.

Too bad we can't offer you

what ought to go with these...

...but we never have any liquor

in the house. Father's a teetotaler.

Dinner is served.

That's good. Let's go see if we can eat it.

Shall we go in?

I hope you won't hate us for asking you

to dine with us in such fearfuI weather.

I'm nearly dying of the heat myself,

so you have a fellow sufferer...

...if that pleases you.

Will you sit there, Arthur?

Thank you, Daddy.

- Where's Walter?

- Poor Walter.

Yes, he has probably been delayed

at the office.

What a funny thing weather is.

Yesterday it was cooI,

the angels had charge of it.

But today they had an engagement

somewhere else...

...so the deviI saw his chance and started

to move the equator to the North Pole.

By the time he got halfway,

he thought of something else to do...

...so he went off

and left the equator here on top of us.

- I wish he'd come back and get it.

- So do I.

Alice, what an imagination.

Yes, hasn't she?

What a lack of imagination...

...to have prepared anything so hot

on a night like this.

Do take this dreadfuI soup away.

How unfortunate that we couldn't have had

something iced or jellied instead.

Mrs. Adams, this is my favorite dish.

I'm glad.

Father doesn't seem to care much

for sweetbreads.

I'm afraid you're not a reaI gourmet, Daddy.

That's a French word. It means epicure.

Most food terms are from the French.

That's because the French

are distinguished for their cooking.

It's just like most musicaI terms

being from Italian...

...because the Italians wrote

such wonderfuI music.

What are the Americans famous for,

do you suppose?

What do you think, Arthur?

Business, I suppose. Banking,

manufacturing and so on. Isn't it funny?

So these are Brussels sprouts.

They certainly smell up the house.

Now what can have been in Cook's mind

not to have made an aspic...

...instead of a heavy entree

for weather like this?

I'm afraid we let the servants do too much

as they like about the meals, Mother.

Perhaps we should

changer les domestiques, n'est-ce pas?

Here, you.

What is it, VirgiI?

What's her name?

What's whose name, Dad?

That colored woman. I want some water.

Don't give up hope.

She hasn't gone forever.

I don't know about that.

Father simply has to have a heavy meaI

at the end of the day.

He works so hard in his terrible, old factory.

Terrible, new factory, I should say.

He simply must have

lots of food to keep his strength up.

I don't see why most businessmen

can't leave most of the details...

...to their employees, but then

I suppose some of them are like that.

They just allow their help to sit around idle

while they do all the work.

Then, of course,

there's the other type of businessman...

...who drives his employees

and invents things for them to do...

...if there's nothing else,

because he hates to see people idle.

- Which category do you fall into, Arthur?

- I don't know.

I'm sure not the last. You're probably

the idoI of your office boys and secretaries.

Secretaries, Alice?

You know, I may be needing one soon.

Never thought I'd one day

be having one of my own.

Sort of gives a man a feeling of importance,

don't it?

Yes, it certainly does, sir.

Have some sugar in your coffee, Arthur?

No, thank you.

Walter. You know Mr. Russell.

Hi.

Pardon me.

I guess my boy wants to see me.

Walter's such a funny boy.

So abrupt and unexpected.

But then, of course,

you know that about him.

I guess all talented people

are a bit peculiar.

It's part of their charm, really.

What are your talents, Arthur?

Can you play any instruments

or sing or paint?

Or perhaps you have some secret hobby

that derives its chief charm...

...from just being secret.

Something you keep to yourself

and don't like to talk about.

Why you dang little idiot.

Really, I...

Perhaps I'd better go see

if Walter's had his dinner.

If you'll excuse me.

I couldn't help it, it just turned out wrong,

that's all.

You couldn't help it?

Who could help it? Tell me that.

It just happened, that's all.

It just happened.

A penny for your thoughts.

No, I'll bid more.

A rose.

A poor little dead rose...

...for your thoughts, Mr. Arthur Russell.

I'm afraid I haven't any.

Will you ever forgive us?

What for?

For making you eat such a heavy dinner.

I mean, look at such a heavy dinner...

...because you certainly couldn't have more

than looked at it on a night like this.

Cheer up, your fearfuI duty is almost done...

...and you can run on home

as soon as you like.

That's what you're dying to do, isn't it?

Not at all.

You're upset about something.

No, I'm not.

What's the matter, little boy? Tell Auntie.

Nothing.

Let's go out on the porch where we belong,

shall we?

Now...

...tell me what's the matter.

Nothing's the matter.

Of course,

one is affected by weather like this.

It may make one

a little more quiet than usuaI.

Maybe it's this ugly little house...

...or the furniture, or Mother's vases

that upset you.

Or was it Mother herself or Father?

I've told you, nothing upset me.

You say that because you're too nice,

or too conscientious, or too embarrassed.

Anyhow, too something to tell me.

I wonder if they've done it after all.

Done what?

I wonder who has been talking

about me to you, after all.

Isn't that it?

Not at all.

Don't say "not at all" again.

You're not good at deceiving.

- I'm not deceiving-

- Never mind.

Do you remember saying

that nothing anybody else could do...

...would ever keep you from coming here?

That if you left me it would be

because I had driven you away myself.

Yes, and it's true.

But I haven't driven you away,

and yet you've gone.

Do I seem as silly as all that?

I wonder if I have driven you away.

You've done nothing.

I wonder.

You know, I have the strangest feeling.

I feeI as if I were only going to see you...

...about five minutes more

all the rest of my life.

Why, that's silly.

Of course I want to see you often.

No.

I've never had a feeling like this before.

It's just so, that's all.

You're never coming here again.

It's all over, isn't it?

Why, it's finished, isn't it?

Why, yes.

You're awfully tired and nervous.

Yes, you must go.

There's nothing else for you to do.

When anything's spoiled...

...people can't do anything else

but run away from it.

Goodbye.

We'll only say good night.

I'll get your hat.

I'd like to keep it for a souvenir

but I'm afraid you'll need it.

You poor thing,

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