Darling Page #2

- hundreds of times before.

- You're wrong.

I've never.

Not exactly my line, either.

I just happen to love you. I told you.

It is real, then?

It's the first time I've felt real for a long time.

Me, too.

Me, what?

Me, too.

Go on.

Look, how jazzy! Every three hours

we can call for refreshments.

Welcome.

The thought of breaking up

someone's family...

was absolutely repellent to me, honestly.

If anyone had told me

I was doing anything like that...

I would have been horrified.

I've always regarded families...

as "unbustable," you know?

Over there, a spare divan...

and pictures of Cambridge.

Very convenient door through there,

leading to bedroom.

- A picture reproduction of clown.

- Glass is cracked.

A mirror with gilt ormolu frame. One clock.

Seems to have stopped.

I'm sure it only needs winding.

Through here, you've got your hall.

The gas meter's there.

Through there to the kitchen.

Three stairs up here to the bathroom.

Large cupboard there.

Very useful for leaving one's coats.

And then, in the kitchen...

we have the gas cooker, put in

by the last tenants. So it's relatively new.

Your books have arrived.

And your records.

- Are these yours?

- Yes.

Hello, my darling.

... it doesn't intrude on you,

because it's been dead for so long.

It has properties

of a beautifully laid out corpse.

You know, you don't worry about it.

It's always there...

Darling?

Sorry. Are Liz and Willie on or off

at the moment?

- I don't know. I have no idea at all.

- What shall I put?

Just put, "With best wishes"

and leave out, "To you both."

"Love, Robert...

"and Diana.

"Kiss, kiss."

- Happy Christmas.

- Cool Christmas.

Happy Christmas!

The most gorgeous Negroes

you've ever seen have just gone upstairs.

- What on earth's going on up there?

- They're having a diplomatic reception.

Would you like to have

a diplomatic reception?

What a good idea!

I can't get them to go.

Make them. Force them to go.

How?

- I don't know. Can't you force them to go?

- I don't know half of them.

Oh, dear. I just wish they'd all go away

from our little place.

Why did we ever have this party?

I don't know, but I wish they'd all go.

My friends seem to get on very well

with your friends.

Your friends are so pretty.

Yours are so intelligent.

I couldn't have been happy

if I'd kept Robert from his children.

I was absolutely insistent, rain or shine,

he went and saw them.

I couldn't have forgiven myself

if he hadn't done that, you see.

I've never really been the jealous type.

Where the hell have you been?

- I told you I had to go and see the children.

- Till this hour?

Did you see her?

Her?

- No.

- I don't know whether I believe you.

What makes you think she wants to see me?

- Perhaps you want to see her.

- Perhaps I do.

Why don't you tell me if you want to

see her? If you're still in love with her?

Lord.

Look here. No, listen.

I love you. Honestly.

- Robert, you won't leave me, will you?

- Leave you?

If only you knew.

I'm so frightened sometimes.

What do you mean,

you're so frightened sometimes?

- What are you frightened of?

- We're so happy.

Shall we get married?

Get married and finish all this?

Darling, I'm so happy as we are.

I don't want anything to change.

If we got married...

there'd be so much bitterness and

unhappiness for everyone, wouldn't there?

Darling.

Good evening.

An American statesman recently said...

that Britain was a country

which had lost pride in itself.

Have we so much to be ashamed of,

I wonder?

Let's find out.

What are you ashamed of in Britain today?

- Can't think of nothing.

- Nothing?

The traffic. It's a bit congested...

That's the worst thing,

as far you're concerned?

Some people don't work hard enough.

I work hard in Bristol. I do it for one person.

Her name's Margaret Robins.

I've got the photograph on me.

Everyone these days

wants something for nothing.

They don't want to put anything out

for what they're striving to get out of this.

Talking as a Londoner, I think...

how rife homosexuality has become,

in London itself.

I would say again, in retrospect,

that a few years back...

Again, two or three years ago...

that you were very blatantly approached

by different people in different places.

Really?

It does, sort of, still...

- You say it's worse?

- It has become worse over a period of time...

- but you have to live with it.

- I suppose so.

- Try that London number again?

- What was that number again, sir?

- Flaxman-2249.

- One moment, please.

Morphy Richards refrigerator,

gift of Mr. Charles Glass...

Number 81.

- Here.

- Mr. David Rodney Barlow.

Holiday for two in the Bahamas,

gift of Mr. Samuel Goldstone...

Number 68.

Yes, me. But I've just come back.

Normally I never did charity work.

It's usually terribly draggy.

But Robert was away, and Miles Brand

happened to phone the same day.

After all, he had chosen me

for the Honeyglow girl.

Miles didn't mean a thing in my private life.

I didn't attach any importance to it.

- Still admire yourself as much as ever?

- Carlotta.

How lucky it is

you're a man after your own heart.

I thought I could smell prussic acid.

I put it down to the weather.

Must make a change

from putting it down to expenses.

How savage we are tonight.

Somebody's husband

gone back to his wife?

If he had,

you'd have been there to greet him.

- Leftovers aren't exactly my diet, darling.

- I thought you were always in the market.

That remark was young when you were.

- Miles, Mr. Glass.

- Excuse me.

I suppose the main attraction

was Charles Glass.

Mr. Honeyglow, himself.

He's a terrible sweetie.

Do you know Charles?

Eighty-two.

Sean, my dear fellow,

I hear you're making a new movie.

How the hell do you know that?

I take a great interest

in your squalid career. I have to.

If you're shooting full-length epics...

you won't want to do commercials

for the Glass Group.

Says who?

After all, a lie can be shot with integrity

just like anything else. Who's the crumpet?

You've been most kind. Thank you so much.

Now, ladies and gentlemen, a few words...

from the president of the charity

we've all been assisting tonight.

Pray, silence for

the Right Honorable Basil Willet, MP.

A man of few words,

and all of them long ones.

You were splendid, Diana.

I want you to meet Sean Martin.

This is Miss Diana Scott.

- Hello.

- How do you do?

Would Mr. Glass say a few words?

I doubt it, but I'll ask him.

Would you excuse me?

I want to say just this:

No matter how much public money...

we, the government,

devote to good causes...

there will always be a place

for private generosity...

like yours, ladies and gentlemen, tonight.

Never have I seen so many hearts

so obviously in the right place.

I'm sure I have no need

to bring to your attention...

the plight of our brothers...

of every creed, race and color...

in every far-flung corner of the Earth...

who at this very moment

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