Black Widow Page #3

- Oh, not in the least. I love it.

You've no idea how many

parties I get to now.

- But why do you say that?

- I think it must bother you.

You mention it so quickly

and make such a joke of it.

- What are you, a psychiatrist?

- No, I'm a writer.

Then how do you know

whether it bothers me or not?

Well, I don't actually.

I'm just guessing. Anyway, it shouldn't.

My guess is you do all right

for yourself anyway, with or without her.

You mean you think

I have an identity of my own?

Well, I don't know, of course...

but that's quite a line

you've got there.

Is your name Ling too?

No, I'm Nancy Ordway.

My mother was Gordon Ling's sister.

- Do you drink?

- No.

But I'm hungry enough

to eat a bear.

We'll split one.

With that background to the tragedy...

let me now pick up the story

of my friendship with Nancy Ordway...

ten days after our meeting

at Lottie's party.

Were you drunk

when you did these?

A little.

They're very good.

Yes?

There's a Miss Ordway

who wishes to speak to you on two.

- What's her name?

- Ordway. Miss Nancy Ordway.

Oh, yes. Yes, sure.

Nancy? Uh, hold it just a second,

will you, honey?

- Uh, when can I, uh, get the others?

- Monday.

Yes. Monday'll be fine.

Oh, but mind, don't go

on the wagon on me.

Oh, no. No.

- I'm sorry, honey.

- Am I interrupting something?

No, not a thing.

How have you been?

I just called to tell you

the good news.

I sold my first story today.

That's wonderful, Nancy.

How did it come out,

Somerset Maugham or Truman Capote?

Mmm. I decided not to take

any chances.

I made it pure Damon Runyon

from start to finish.

Well, you couldn't have done better, kid.

He's money in the bank.

Did you get my little sketch?

Oh, yes.

Yes, I certainly did.

It's, uh...

right here on my desk now.

It's, uh-

Yes, it's very cute.

I was hoping you might find a chance

to call me sometime.

Well, I intended to, Nancy,

but I've just been so busy lately...

I simply haven't had the time.

- Did Mrs. Denver get back?

- No, they operated on her mother yesterday...

so now I don't know

when she'll be back.

The secret of love...

is greater than

the secret of death.

That's the way

I'd really like to write.

That sort of mood.

You're not afraid

you'll be charged with frivolity?

I'll never be able

to do it, I suppose.

But that's it.

That's the goal

to try for-

death and grandeur.

Well, you're right, of course.

Always shoot for the moon.

In a place like this...

with such music

and such a view...

space, beauty...

comfort like this...

I might come close to it.

I don't suppose you'd consider

renting it out by the day.

Just when you're not here.

You don't think

it's a little cheerful...

for "The secret of love is greater

than the secret of death"?

All right, I'll change it

back to comedy then.

I'm not narrow

about what I write, you know.

I'll try whatever the mood is.

I take it then you weren't very much

impressed with the play this evening.

- Why do you say that?

- It was a little too lowbrow for you, wasn't it?

I didn't mind that.

I understand the needs

of the commercial theater...

but I think of everything

from the viewpoint of the writer.

That means I examine

the psychology very closely.

Oh, I see.

That was basically

a stupid idea in that play-

That a man could run around

with another woman...

and then find out suddenly that he was

really in love with his wife all the time.

It just isn't possible

with genuine people.

- Is this official?

- Really, I'm not kidding, Peter.

When you're in love,

you're in love.

When you stop being in love,

you stop.

You just can't start up again,

like a stalled motorboat.

Why not?

Because you can't.

That's why not.

You, for example.

You couldn't possibly fall out of love

with Iris and then fall back in again.

Nor she with you.

But she did.

What do you mean, she did?

Exactly what you said

she couldn't do.

She fell in love with another guy

a few years ago...

and when that turned out

to be a mistake...

she fell back in love with me...

just like your motorboat

starting up again.

And all the time you kept on being

in love with her?

I did.

- Who was the man?

- Fella named Martin.

Friend of the family, of course.

But what does it matter

who he was?

Did you hate him?

I think you could be safe

in assuming that this...

didn't leave him

embedded in my heart.

Well then, that doesn't prove anything,

just because she says she loves you now.

I don't want to be personal, of course...

but psychologically speaking, I wouldn't

be so sure that you're in love with her now.

Maybe not, but I wouldn't risk any dough

on that if I were you.

And I wouldn't be at all sure

that if another girl came along...

just as attractive-

Oh. Hello.

What is it?

Wrong floor, or coming to see me?

Coming to see you, of course.

Lottie, you remember

Miss Ordway, don't you?

- Matter of fact, I met her at your party.

- Indeed I do.

You were the girl who wasn't invited.

How are you?

- Fine, thank you.

- And, uh, Mr. Mullen.

- Of course. How are you?

- How are you?

Lottie, I'm terribly sorry, but I

have to take Miss Ordway home now.

- Would you all like to go in and wait until I come back?

- Not tonight, thanks.

It was just a drop-in

in case you were still up... and lonely.

What do you hear

from your wife Iris?

Another two, three weeks yet.

- How'd it go tonight?

- All but the last two rows.

- Good night, Miss Ordway.

- Good night.

- See you tomorrow, Brian.

- Sure.

Odd choice, if I may be so bold.

Oh, for the love

of Pete, Lottie.

- Good morning, miss.

- Good morning.

I'm Nancy Ordway.

Did Mr. Denver tell you I'd be here?

Yeah. He told me

you were gonna write here.

Well, I'm going to try anyway.

I'll be here every day

until Mrs. Denver gets back.

Will I be in your way if I just stay here

in this room and write?

Oh, no. I'm generally through here

by 10:
00 or 10:30.

I work upstairs for lunch...

but if you want anything

before I go...

you'll find me

in the bedroom or the kitchen.

Thank you. Lucia, isn't it?

Yeah, that's right. Lucia.

Iris is coming in.

I've got to meet her at 6:00.

Sure, Peter. I'll look in tomorrow,

if it'll be convenient.

Tomorrow will be fine.

Did you get in touch with Miss Ordway?

Yes. I told her Mrs. Denver was

coming back today...

- and that you'd get in touch with her in a couple of days.

- Fine.

Said she understood,

and for me to thank you.

I'll see you tomorrow, Gordon.

Uh, did he say Miss Ordway?

Yeah. She's a young writer

he picked up somewhere.

She's been working in the apartment

for the past few weeks.

Sounds goofy to me, but you know

what a soft touch Peter is.

Why? Do you know her?

No. No, I guess not.

- Hiya, honey.

- Hiya, darling.

What about the show?

Holding up very well.

In fact, it looks now as if it might run

into next season.

Lottie behaving herself?

Well, I think I'm the only one around

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