BUtterfield 8 Page #7

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Let's face it, Emily.

I'm a failure as a husband

and as a man.

Wes, I love you!

I know you do.

That makes the divorce

all the more necessary...

...because I can't go on

disappointing you.

- Couldn't you try?

- No.

Do you love her?

- That woman you were with.

- I seem to.

But you fought over her

and sent her away in a rage.

Yes, I did.

I was sick because I was afraid

I was going to lose her.

I hated her unreasonably because

I couldn't stand losing her.

Just as you hate me now.

Good morning.

Good morning, sweetheart.

Open your eyes good and make sure

you know who you're talking to.

- Norma, isn't it?

- Shrewd guess.

I wanna marry you today.

I haven't anything else to do.

Good. I'll be ready in a minute.

Fine. Thank you very much.

Okay. Bye.

I've just called Butterfield 8

to shut off the service...

...and to send me a bill.

As soon as I have an address in

Boston, will you forward it to me?

Yes, dear, I will.

Take care of Mama.

I've got plans for her.

My cousin Harry.

- Oh, Frances!

- I'm a born matchmaker.

10%, of course.

Naturally!

I don't want to be a nosy

neighbor, but why Boston?

That's where the Pilgrims

made a fresh start.

If it's good enough for them,

I can take it.

Can Boston take you?

What will you do in Boston, dear?

Well, I'll buy a paper.

Look up the want ads.

Same as any girl without a job.

Before we all start crying,

let's get the luggage in the car.

This is as close

as I'll ever get to heaven.

Do you like it?

Of course not. I'm only faint

from not eating in three days.

It's yours.

No.

Wear it in good health.

Oh, no.

You can't bribe me with this.

I could never say a mean word about

you ever again. I'd die of boredom.

Well, then just keep it warm for me.

Goodbye, Mama.

I don't want you to go.

I have a feeling

you'll never come back.

I never will come back, Mama.

But I'll send for you

as soon as I can.

Did she leave any forwarding

address or number?

Now, look...

...this is the most important

telephone call of my life.

You must tell me, please.

Boston?

You're certain?

Thank you, Butterfield 8.

Thanks.

Don't be frightened, Gloria. Please.

I can only think of one apology.

Will you marry me?

I've arranged for a divorce.

Wait for me and...

...I'll make you forget every word

I uttered last night.

You can't.

I'm left with those words.

I'm branded with them.

Thank you for asking me to marry you.

If only you'd done it yesterday,

it might have meant something.

But not today.

But I only did

what I did last night...

...because you were so much

in my blood that I exploded.

But you were right last night.

No man could marry me...

...and not keep remembering.

You'd have to explode

at my life, past and...

You couldn't help but explode.

I can think of a dozen apologies.

Oh, I know.

And I'd accept.

But then look.

Look at all the thousands

of explosions ahead...

...and the thousands

of apologies and acceptances...

...until we both got so disgusted.

- I love you. I love you.

And I love you.

It's no use. It's no damn use.

Let's go someplace to talk.

Over at Happy's.

Just talk.

Just so that we can be

together and alone.

So that I can tell you

what I want to do.

If I get in a room with you...

...together, alone...

...I know what will happen.

It'll be the same thing

all over again.

We started this whole thing together.

We're obligated to solve it together.

Please.

Hello, Mr. Liggett.

You brought another weary traveler.

Hi, honey.

Welcome home.

- Give me a key, Happy.

- IH eys, that's my business.

- Here pass the most beautiful...

- Give me a key.

Yeah, yeah. Right away.

You saw the accident?

Yes.

Your name, please.

Weston Liggett.

1038 Fifth Avenue, New York City.

I stopped that same girl for speeding.

I wish I'd put her in jail then.

- They didn't make her name yet?

- No.

- Gloria Wandrous.

- You knew her?

We were traveling north...

...together.

You're going to read about it

in the newspapers tomorrow.

The family name...

...your picture, my picture...

...everything.

I'm...

...sorry.

I don't understand.

- What's happened? Tell me.

- She's dead.

She lived for an hour unconscious.

- But she's dead.

- Who?

- That girl?

- Yes.

- Terrible.

- Automobile accident.

She was...

...trying to get away from me.

I'm sorry. So sorry.

I don't suppose that anybody would

think that she was a good person.

But, strangely enough, she was.

On the surface, she was all

sex and devil-may-care.

Yet everything in her was

struggling toward respectability.

She never gave up trying.

I'm going out looking for my pride.

Alone.

When I find it, if you're here,

I'll come back.

And we'll see if it...

...still has any value...

...to either of us.

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