Grand Hotel Page #7

PREYSING'S VOICE

Both parties have fully agreed that

this merger can result only in mutual

advantages.

Preysing moves forward showing that we are in Preysing's

room.

The change of light shows us plainly the time lapse.

Flaemmchen is seated at a small table typing. Preying strides

forward As he strides he says:

PREYSING:

Moreover --

FLAEMMCHEN:

(repeating)

Moreover --

Preysing paces the room.

PREYSING:

(repeating)

Moreover --

(he pauses, thinking.

Picks up telephone

quickly -- into

telephone)

Is there a telegram for me yet?...

Oh -- when it does, send it up.

During this, Flaemmchen, who is tired sits back and rubs her

fingers that have been over-worked. She glances at her wrist-

watch.

Preysing comes and stands behind Flaemmchen.

PREYSING:

Now, where was I?

(he looks over the

sheet in her

typewriter --

accidentally his arm

touches her neck)

Oh -- sorry.

(he puts his cigar in

his mouth and walks

away. As he walks

away)

Where was I?

As he turns, he catches a down shot on her from behind as

she stretches back showing her busts. Seeing his face looking

down on her she pulls herself together and seats herself at

attention.

FLAEMMCHEN:

Moreover...

PREYSING:

Moreover...

It seems a silly kind of lull.

PREYSING:

Do you work in Justice Zinnowitz'

office?

FLAEMMCHEN:

No -- only occasional jobs.

(she yawns suddenly)

PREYSING:

Tired?

FLAEMMCHEN:

You pay me.

PREYSING:

You're a very unusual stenographer --

FLAEMMCHEN:

Moreover...

PREYSING:

Moreover...

(as he paces the room,

it is obvious that

he is trying to

collect his thoughts)

She looks at him, waits a moment and then begins

characteristically to, change the sheet of paper.

FLAEMMCHEN:

I don't see why it's unusual for a

stenographer to be pretty -- if she

does her work well, -- seems so silly.

I don't know why they don't like

girls like me in offices. Personally,

I hate offices -- I'd much rather be

in the movies.

PREYSING:

Movies?

FLAEMMCHEN:

Yes, I photograph very well. Look --

She tosses magazine -- as if it were nothing at all over to

him.

He looks down at it without touching it.

PREYSING:

What is this?

FLAEMMCHEN:

I got ten marks for that.

He picks it up.

PREYSING:

You...

FLAEMMCHEN:

(without looking up)

Me.

As he looks at picture -- he lowers his voice two notes.

PREYSING:

You...

FLAEMMCHEN:

(reading)

Moreover...

PREYSING:

(quickly)

What?

FLAEMMCHEN:

(reading)

Only in mutual advantages -- moreover.

PREYSING:

What brown hands you have.

FLAEMMCHEN:

That's from skiing.

PREYSING:

Skiing?

(he holds her hands)

FLAEMMCHEN:

(natural -- unabashed)

Yes... A man I know took me to

Switzerland last month...

He drops her hand suddenly.

PREYSING:

A man? -- To Switzerland? -- That

must have been nice -- for him.

FLAEMMCHEN:

(reading)

Only in mutual advantages --

moreover...

Preysing paces the room trying to get his thoughts back to

the work in hand.

PREYSING:

Moreover... He was a lucky man --

that man.

FLAEMMCHEN:

Perhaps.

(she waits at attention)

He paces back and forth again.

PREYSING:

Don't misunderstand me. I'm a married

man -- with grownup daughters. Uh --

FLAEMMCHEN:

Moreover -- Do you mind if I smoke?

(she takes cigarette)

I went to Florence once, too.

PREYSING:

With the same friend?

By this time she is smoking her cigarette.

FLAEMMCHEN:

(without looking at

him)

No.

PREYSING:

(quickly)

Moreover, the possibility of the

successful termination of negotiations

now pending with the Manchester Cotton

Company...

FLAEMMCHEN:

Not too quickly.

PREYSING:

What?

FLAEMMCHEN:

You're a little too fast.

PREYSING:

Can't you understand me?

FLAEMMCHEN:

I understand you perfectly.

PREYSING:

Have you got it now?

FLAEMMCHEN:

(typing)

Cotton Company --

PREYSING:

Should throw a great weight into the

balance...

FLAEMMCHEN:

(as he turns his back

looks at him

significantly)

...weight into the balance...

There is a sudden knock at the door.

PREYSING:

Come in.

Boy enters with telegram.

BOY:

Telegram for Mr. Preysing.

With almost hysterical speed, Preysing snatches the telegram --

opens it. Flaemmchen powders her nose.

IMPORTANT CLOSEUP OF PREYSING

it is bad news. He wipes the perspiration from his forehead.

PREYSING:

Oh -- oh.

(he throws the telegram

away from him, onto

her desk. Paces the

room.)

Flaemmchen, believing the telegram to be something that she

must copy, picks it up quite naturally and reads it.

FLAEMMCHEN:

Deal with Manchester Cotton Company

definitely off.

Preysing turns and snatches the telegram from her.

FLAEMMCHEN:

Sorry.

Preysing paces the room with the telegram.

Flaemmchen rises, stretches. Quite naturally she glances at

the pictures on Preysing's dressing-table.

FLAEMMCHEN:

How nice -- your daughters?

PREYSING:

My daughters -- yes, my daughters.

(he is talking more

to himself)

FLAEMMCHEN:

Is that Mrs. Preysing.

PREYSING:

(to himself)

Definitely off.

FLAEMMCHEN:

Oh -- too bad. Did you quarrel?

(she is looking at

picture of Mrs.

Preysing)

PREYSING:

(turns, speaks quickly --

definitely)

That'll be all -- be here tomorrow

at nine o'clock.

(he turns, goes out

onto balcony with

telegram)

Flaemmchen, delighted and with alacrity, crosses, piles up

her papers and is prepared to leave.

CUT TO:

FLASH OF CORRIDOR

Trim Flaemmchen out of Preysing's room. Take her down to

elevator.

At the same time, CAMERA PANS OVER and shows the Baron's

chauffeur knocking at the Baron's door.

BARON'S VOICE

(calling)

Come in!

Trim the chauffeur into the Baron's room.

BARON'S ROOM

Baron is busy changing his clothes. Chauffeur steps in, he

closes the door behind him and stands there with an

inquisitive look.

CHAUFFEUR:

You are late -- the dancer's gone to

the theatre.

BARON:

(very nonchalantly)

Well?

CHAUFFEUR:

She's gone to the theatre -- don't

you know?

BARON:

(very nonchalantly)

Yes.

CHAUFFEUR:

(ready to explode)

And what are you going to do?

BARON:

The pearls are in her room.

CHAUFFEUR:

(threateningly)

Now listen to me. The others are

getting suspicious of you. I was on

the telephone to Amsterdam today,

they think you're scared.

BARON:

I've been careful, I've been waiting

my chance.

CHAUFFEUR:

You've been waiting your chance.

You're too much of a gentleman --

that's the trouble with you.

BARON:

I told you I'll get the pearls

tonight.

CHAUFFEUR:

Need any help?

BARON:

No.

CHAUFFEUR:

Have you got that skeleton key?

He takes the skeleton key out of his pocket and produces it

to the Baron.

BARON:

No --

CHAUFFEUR:

Why?

BARON:

The floor clerk is out there in the

corridor -- she sees everything ---

CHAUFFEUR:

(contemptuously)

I could take care of her.

BARON:

How?

CHAUFFEUR:

Chloroform on a handkerchief from

behind -- while you...

BARON:

No -- no -- no -- no...

CHAUFFEUR:

Why?

BARON:

Poor girl -- chloroform would give

her a rotten headache... I know -- I

had it in the war. Besides, she's

very pretty -- not young but --

CHAUFFEUR:

You're no good for this business.

It's just a joke to you...

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