Dusty Ermine Page #7

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Do? Nothing.

But perhaps there's a little accident.

Accident?

You know, I shall be very sorry if this happens.

Skiing accidents are such bad publicity

for a sports hotel.

But what can one do?

I can't.

You must.

I can't go on.

Hello!

Anybody there?

I don't know who owns these.

They'll make a forced trail.

Ready?

Come on.

What are they doing here?

They're looking for skis.

They're taking our skis.

Quick, duck!

Okay, can you stop the funicular?

Oh, no, we mustn't.

You going to walk out in the air?

Let me down in your rope, will you?

No, no, impossible.

They're coming?

Take off your skis.

Gilbert!

No time to explain. Perhaps I don't have to.

Perhaps you don't.

Quick, get Linda out of here.

I'll stop them.

You're not going to stay.

Only one of us has got to stop them.

Stop or I'll shoot.

Quick, to the top.

Two pillow cases and a pair

of the Irish linen sheets.

Yes, mam.

And, Goldie, you'd better get him a hot water bottle.

I will, mam.

And you've lit a fire in his room?

Yes.

Thank you.

He's late.

Hello, darling.

Jim, dear,

Hello, Jim.

My dear, forgive me for being abrupt.

Would you mind leaving Linda and me

alone together for a moment?

I've one or two rather important things

I want to say to her.

Of course, dear.

Now come along, darling, come along.

Tell me, how do matters stand

between you and Forsythe?

As one only could stand after what's happened.

I haven't seen him again.

He certainly shows no anxiety to see me.

Well, I wouldn't go so far as to say that.

As a matter of fact he gave me a letter for you.

So, I just say you're quite right.

After all, what's the use?

When you've made up your mind...

What are you doing?

Hm?

Give it to me!

My dear.

Why go and cause you unnecessary pain?

Linda, what can I say?

You said everything, beautifully.

I have?

Your letter.

Letter?

That's my writing.

Why shouldn't it be?

Because I didn't write it.

Well, really! For once you're human enough

to say something nice

and then you haven't the courage to admit it.

I haven't said anything nice.

And what's more...

I know your type... I know your type.

Passion is on paper!

Goodbye!

Goodbye!

And don't expect me to come running

the next time you write and ask me to.

Are you going to suggest I asked you

to come here?

Are you going to deny that you wrote this?

Why, it's my writing.

Why, of course it...

Well, I'll say I wrote mine

if you say you wrote yours.

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