Dinner at Eight Page #4

And on the beach...

well, my dear, he wore

even less than the girls.

Ed says he isn't so hot since the talkies.

You can't fool Ed about the pictures.

He remembers John Bunny and

Francis X. Bushman, Henry B. Walthall.

I don't suppose he'd even remember me.

I wonder where he's stopping.

- The Versailles, that's where he is.

- That's where Carlotta's staying.

- Are you sure?

- Yes. I remember the whole interview.

He was wearing a two-piece

dark-blue flannel lounging suit...

with a cunning white monogram

on his upper pocket.

Let's see, I'll put him

between Carlotta and the Packard woman.

See if you can get him first,

and let nature take its course.

I do hope he's free for tonight.

"Free, white, and 45," Ed says.

I'll say this for him.

In his photographs,

he has the most heavenly profile.

- Hello. Mr. Renault, please.

- Good luck, dear.

Hello, Mr. Renault?

This is Millicent Jordan.

I don't suppose you'd remember me.

Antibes?

Yes, of course I do.

How do you do, Mrs. Jordan?

Dinner, tonight?

Let me see.

I'm afraid that possibly I can't.

You see...

I have another engagement, of course...

but I might be able to break it.

And Paula, my daughter, you know,

she'll be so glad to see you again.

I don't suppose you'd remember her

at Antibes?

Of course, dear lady.

It sounds like a very amusing evening.

I shall certainly try to come.

At 8:
00? Thanks very much.

- What do you know about that?

- Darling, please, you must come.

I don't know. I'd feel kind of like a heel.

Larry, please. It will be such fun.

To be at dinner with you in my own house.

Darling, they aren't so stuffy, really.

- They'd be crazy about you.

- Sure. I mean...

- You know...

- And, darling...

while I was dressing for dinner,

I could be thinking, "Larry will be here. "

Darling, it's so awful

not to be with you every minute.

What?

I'm awfully jealous of the play.

Are you really going to act in it?

My agent's bringing Baumann up here

this afternoon.

I might as well sign the contract.

Baumann's as good a producer

as there is, I suppose.

I'll have to sit in the audience...

and watch you make love

to another woman.

I hope it flops. That's what I hope.

The play is not much.

But I think I can put it over.

I play the only male character.

Not another man?

There's a small male part for a bit actor.

- He's a beachcomber.

- A beachcomber?

Yeah. He has one small scene,

but I dominate that.

I love you so.

May I use your comb?

- Where have you been all this time?

- Came as quick as I could.

Wait a minute. Where is my change?

Had to go to a new place.

Cost half a dollar more.

Who told you to go to a new...

- A little drink.

- Any reason why I shouldn't?

No, of course not.

Except, at Mother's tonight...

I want them to see you at your best.

Larry, don't.

Paula, mind your own business, will you?

- Don't talk to me like that.

- I'll do as I please.

- Darling, let's not quarrel.

- I'm sorry.

I'm kind of on edge today,

deciding about this play...

and everything.

It's my fault. I'm a little jumpy myself.

Ernest gets back from abroad this evening.

Ernest?

Will he be there at your mother's?

Poor Ernest.

I'm awfully sorry for him. He's so sweet.

I can't understand yet what's happened.

Less than a month ago,

I thought I was in love with him.

You were one of those

million-dollar movie stars.

- Paula, I want to tell you something...

- I know.

Ernest is just the sort of young man

I should marry.

And you're the sort

that girls are always warned against.

I don't give a hoot what people say.

I know all the things you've done.

I know how many times

you've been married.

- I'm still married.

- I don't care.

I'm sick of hiding my love for you.

I'm sick of scheming and pretending.

Do you think I can go on with Ernest?

After all we've been to each other?

You don't know anything about me.

- You've known me a month.

- Larry, how can you?

A month. As though time were important.

It is important.

There are other things important.

You're a kid of 19.

You're 19 and I'm 47...

I'm almost 40.

You'll be telling me next I'm not

old enough to know the facts of life.

You don't. Not the real facts.

You can't.

Everything has been too easy for you.

You don't know what it means

to be up against it.

Keep fighting them every second.

To pull yourself up, hand over hand...

while they're waiting with a knife

to cut the rope.

I'm not through yet. I'll show them.

If they think I'm finished...

Larry, make sense.

What's that got to do with our love?

Love.

You want to know the truth, Paula?

I love you.

As much as I can love any woman.

But it isn't real love anymore.

There have been too many.

I've been in love a hundred times.

I've had three wives.

- You want to know about them?

- No.

There was Violet.

She was a vaudeville hoofer.

Rooming houses, dirty kimonos,

fried-egg sandwiches.

We fought like wildcats.

Then I broke into pictures and I left her.

Then I married Edith.

She was crazy about my profile.

Always kept talking about it.

She was society.

We were happy for about six months.

Then Hollywood dazzled her.

You know what happened.

Out in her car one night,

drunk as the devil...

over the cliff.

Were you in love with her?

As for Marcelle, you know about her.

She's the top of the heap now.

Biggest draw of any woman in pictures.

Ambitious. I've never known any woman

like her.

She'd do anything to get along,

and knife me to get there.

Always telling me someday

she'd be bigger than I was...

and now I'm...

There they are, the three of them.

I won't tell you about the others.

They swarmed on me.

Every age, kind, and description.

What do you want with me?

I love you.

You're young and fresh,

and I'm burned out.

This is the first decent thing

I ever did in my life.

You listen to what I'm telling you.

I won't listen. I love you.

It's no use, Larry. Nothing you can say

will make any difference.

I'm going to tell Mother and Dad

and Ernest...

- and I'm going to tell them tonight.

- I tell you you're not!

That's Mac, my agent.

- Paula, I want you to promise me.

- No!

For the love of heaven, Paula.

It's no use, Larry. My mind's made up.

Don't you ever get up?

You know my agent, Mr. Kane?

Miss Jordan.

- Sure. How is the little lady?

- Splendid, thank you. You?

Top of the bottle. Am I butting in?

Not at all. I was just going. Goodbye.

Pearls in your oysters.

Paula, please think of what I've said.

Oh, dear.

- Goodbye, Larry.

- Goodbye.

- Paula.

- I must, Larry.

Now, aren't you ashamed?

For 15 minutes, I walk you

around the block so you...

And then you come right in here...

Momsy's sorry.

She doesn't give a darn

for the old man's carpet.

No, I'm awfully sorry.

How is the great profile today?

You been out or sticking around here?

No. I didn't feel very well.

I slept rather late. I'm going out to dinner.

Why don't you go up to McDermott's

and get a workout every day?

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