Dishonored Lady Page #2

I can hear your nerves snapping like rubber bands.

I'm not nervous at all, see?

You're a very curious mixture.

A highly moral voice...

That's not me, that's my mind.

A man's mind, I must say.

Why not, I do a man's work.

And desperate eyes. Eyes full of shadows.

Insomnia does that.

Does it?

Anything doing?

Not a thing.

You know, it's getting me down eating in these hamburger joints.

One thing you got to learn. Eat where the truck drivers eat.

They know the right spot.

Say, I saw a funny thing up the road just now.

A good-looking dame sitting in a car all alone.

Yeah? What was she doing?

That's just it, she wasn't doing nothing. Just sitting there.

I got a rule about women.

If they arent breaking the law, leave them alone.

I didn't mean to disturb you, miss.

Just wanted to be sure everything is okay.

Excuse me, lady.

But are you sure you're all right?

How is she?

Luckier than she deserves.

I just checked her up the road.

She was acting strange then.

I'd better call an ambulance.

I doubt if it's serious.

I'm as good a doctor as you'll find at this time of night.

Let's take her inside.

Well, no bones broken.

Bruises, that's all.

I think you'd better rest here for the night.

I'm a little surprised for a beautiful young woman.

You've been in an accident and you haven't asked for a mirror.

I guess that fits with the way you were driving tonight.

Perhaps you find the idea of living not very attractive.

Is that any of your business, doctor?

As a matter of fact, it is my business.

I happen to be a psychiatrist.

I don't need a psychiatrist.

You won't mind if I disagree with you.

Here's a beautiful young woman, apparently well-to-do.

Apparently in good physical condition...

who just doesn't care what happens to her.

This is interesting.

Not altogether unusual, but interesting.

Of course there are the obvious deductions.

It's my life, doctor, and I prefer to run it myself.

And you don't want anyone to see inside of it.

Perhaps you don't even don't want to take a look yourself.

Many women haven't the courage to face themselves.

So they look for escape in one excitement after another.

Half my patients are like that.

But I'm not one of your patients.

If you tell me how much I owe you, I...

I'll be going back to town now.

Very well, I'll drive you to the station.

Miss Damien, you're an intelligent woman, not an idiot.

Will you promise me one thing?

When you get ready to throw yourself off Brooklyn Bridge

will you come and see me first?

Goodbye, doctor.

Miss Damien? I'll give you her secretary.

Miss Damien's office.

No, Mr. Courtland, she's not here yet.

Shall I have her call you?

yes, Mr. Courtland.

Where's glamour puss?

She hasn't come in yet?

Well, who sent these?

Mr. Felix Courtland.

Mr. Courtland? Why, that's very interesting.

She never misses, does she?

Him-hmm...

Jealous.

If I'd given it any thought I could've predicted it.

Gladys, I won my bet.

She's got a new boyfriend.

I guess those dames got to have new excitement

all the time.

Yeah, here today, gone tomorrow.

Personally, I don't see what she sees in it all.

Is that any concern of yours?

No, Miss Damien.

I didn't hire you to gossip about my private life.

No, Miss Damien,

Go get your money. You're through.

Has Damien come in yet?

What's the matter, sweetheart?

Miss Damien fired me.

Fired you? What for?

She heard me talking about Mr. Courtland.

Courtland, eh? Don't you worry, I'll fix that.

I understand you fired June.

That's right.

What's the idea?

I don't like people to gossip about me.

You don't, eh?

No, I don't.

Well, it's pretty late to be thinking about a thing like that

and it's a rotten trick to take it out on your secretary.

Get out of here.

You don't think your life is a secret, do you?

The boys are betting eight to five this morning

that the Courtland layout will be in the next issue.

You're disgusting!

Madeleine, why don't you get wise to yourself.

Everybody else is.

One romance after another.

That's your whole life and you adore it.

Get out!

You try to dress it up in pretty words

but you don't fool anybody.

They know what you are and you'll never change.

Get out!

You don't care because it's too much fun!

It isn't true.

It isn't true.

It isn't true!

You're looking surprised.

Here's a beautiful woman who just doesn't care what happens to her.

Many women haven't the courage to face themselves.

So they look for escape in one excitement after another.

Perhaps you find the idea of living not very attractive.

Lady, if you wanna kill yourself,

why don't you try the bridge?

I'm glad I was right. An intelligent woman, not an idiot.

Sit down.

That's it.

Now, if you feel like talking, just go ahead and talk.

You're afraid, aren't you?

Well, it's our job to find out why.

To explore the shadows and throw light

on what we find there.

Then you'll be able to see yourself clearly

and face yourself honestly.

When you can do that you won't be afraid anymore.

I was living with my father.

Mother had left him before we came to America.

I was ten...

And to me the way he lived seemed romantic, wonderful.

He was a successful painter and women adored him

He went his own way and did as he pleased.

Just as you've been trying to do?

I suppose so.

But why, did it make him so very happy?

Oh, I was certain he was the happiest man in the world,

until...

until he killed himself.

Then you couldn't understand why he did it.

Do you understand now?

I think I do.

Did you ever do any painting yourself?

I used to.

Why did you give it up?

It didn't pay enough.

And besides, I didn't want to be like my father.

I wanted my own life.

And have you been living your own life?

Of course I have.

The kind of life you really want?

I don't know! I don't know!!

Don't you think you've been hiding from yourself?

Did you ever try to discover the person you really were.

deep down underneath?

I never cared to.

I'm not so sure I do now.

In that case I'm afraid I can't help you.

Of course, that's entirely up to you.

Shall we go on then?

I was doing what I wanted to do, paying my own way

and making the rules.

Nobody was hurt.

Nobody but yourself.

And it didn't really make you happy, did it?

Wasn't that because down underneath

you knew there was something missing? Something important.

I suppose so.

That would worry you, wouldn't it?

And then you would drug yourself with the excitement...

of more excitement.

Oh, I know the pattern, Miss Damien.

You're suffering from the disease of the times...

A neurotic malady is as commonplace as chronic alcoholism.

Suppose for a moment that you were an alcoholic.

They're much the same, you know.

Unsure of themselves underneath and seeking reassurance

from new excitement.

Instead of getting at the cause,

the drunkard solves his problem by taking another drink.

This of course is no solution. And eventually we find him

sprawled hopelessly at a bar.

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