Hangover Square Page #3

I do wish you could hear

some of George's songs.

- I'd be glad to sometime.

- He has the most marvelous new one.

Let me sing it for you tonight.

I'm sorry, but Micky and I have to dine, then go

to Ruffini's. Come to the office tomorrow.

- I hope you'll come too, sir.

- Thank you.

- Good night, Mr. Bone.

- Good night!

- This way, Mr. Carstairs.

- Good night, Micky.

Good night, Micky.

Let's go, shall we?

- Where to, a show?

- It's a little late for that. I have an idea.

Why don't you come to hear

a symphony with me at the philharmonic?

We'd just catch it.

I'll telephone to the house manager.

I'm sure he'd save seats for us.

All right, George.

That'll be lovely. Go on.

Good. I'll be right back.

- You said you were going to Ruffini's, didn't you?

- Yes, that's right.

- They have guest singers there, don't they?

- Right.

I'm sure they'd let me sing

if you'd ask them.

I'm afraid that even the guest singers

rehearse with the orchestra first.

- She only needs a pianist and I can play for her.

- Right you are, Micky.

It wouldn't do you justice, my dear.

I'll chance that. Please let me meet you

there just in case there is a chance.

Thank you.

Thank you very much.

Then I'll go home and change. I'll meet you

at Ruffini's about... about midnight.

I can't stop you from doing that,

of course.

- I hope I'm not being a nuisance.

- You are.

But I rather like it.

- I'll, uh, see you there then.

- Hmm.

Good-bye.

- Ring off, sir. Ring off.

- What?

Turn the handle like this, sir.

Three times.

- That's called ringing off, sir.

- Thank you very much.

Oh, it's all right.

I've got the tickets.

Oh, George.

I've got the most dreadful headache.

You mean you don't

want to come with me?

I do, darling,

I want to terribly, but...

I am so tired and my head is...

Would you mind terribly

taking me home?

- Of course not, Netta.

- Thank you, George.

- Cab, sir?

- Yes, thank you.

- Here you are.

- Thank you, sir.

George.

You're cross with me.

- No, I'm not.

- But you are.

I can tell by the tone of your voice.

Don't be so far away.

If I've upset you, I'm sorry.

It's all right, Netta.

George.

Make me comfortable.

Mmm.

- George.

- Hmm?

Do you remember

that other lyric of Micky's...

the one you're working on?

- You mean "So Close To Paradise"?

- Uh-huh.

Mm-hmm. Why?

Oh, this just...

made me think of it.

So close to paradise

We could reach out

and gather a star

So close

Oh, it's lovely, George.

It's lovely when you sing it.

When will you finish it?

Mmm, soon.

Maybe tomorrow.

Could you finish it tonight,

while I'm resting, I mean?

Well, I guess I could.

Well, then you could...

bring it over after a while.

But I think it'd be

awfully late, Netta.

It wouldn't matter

how late, George.

- Who is it?

- It's I, George.

I've just finished it.

You said to bring it over.

May I come in

and play it to you?

Well, it's...

it's awfully late, George.

But you said

it didn't matter how late.

Well, darling, I've just been asleep.

I'll just look at it.

But I've... I've worked

awfully hard to finish it.

I really would like

to play it over for you.

Really, George.

I have got such a head.

You have no idea.

Oh, I'm sorry.

Is there anything I can get for you?

No, I just want to be quiet.

Thanks for coming over.

I'll see you

in the morning, darling.

- Good night.

- Good night, Netta.

Send for a cab, will you?

Thank you.

Blimey, but it's hot.

I'm watching out

for a load of gas pipe.

They delivered it

to the wrong hole.

They gotta fetch that there gas pipe

here sometime tonight...

or the men won't be able to start

working in the morning.

Netta. I thought you weren't well.

Where are you going?

To Ruffini's.

They need a guest singer.

- You said you had a headache.

- I can't miss this opportunity.

Carstairs sent me a message

not 10 minutes ago.

You couldn't have dressed

like this in 10 minutes.

You must've been practically ready

when I spoke to you just now.

Sometimes you can be

an awful bore.

- I'm going with you.

- No.

- There's George.

- Oh.

Come later, if you like,

when you're in a better temper, darling.

Drive on.

George.

George!

Aren't you rather

letting yourself down?

If I am, isn't that my own affair?

Not entirely.

Because you're

letting me down too.

I wish you'd stop badgering me

about that concerto.

And I wish you'd realize

what's happening to you.

Have you considered

that I may prefer what I'm doing?

To waste your talent

on someone with no real ability...

and even less reputation?

You'll kill your inspiration,

and you'll be left flat.

Exactly as you were left just now.

Good night, George.

What happened?

Stand back. Clear out. Stand back please.

Stand back.

Stand back there.

Stand back.

He broke a wheel.

Are you all right, sir?

Search the square.

There's something wrong

over at Sir Henry's.

Ain't ya feeling well, sir?

You hurt yourself, sir?

Oh, no.

Everything seems to be falling

into your ditch tonight.

First those pipes and now me.

I wonder what's happened

over at Sir Henry's.

- What'd you say?

- The police just drove up.

- Police?

- There's a whole vanload.

Well, that's odd.

I didn't see them pass.

May I see?

Oh, don't!

Don't, please.

I'm sorry.

There's a deep bruise on her throat.

She says he threw

something round her neck.

It was probably a cord

with a knot in it.

That's what caused the bruise.

It acted like a thuggee cord.

Thuggee? What's that?

It's a method

of very swift and silent murder.

- But what could...

- East Indians use it.

We've had cases down at the docks.

One of them could've been

prowling around here.

Yes, he could've been thieving...

and he tried to quiet the girl.

- Williams.

- Yes, sir.

- What's all this excitement about?

- It's Miss Barbara, sir.

- Well, what's happened?

- Somebody tried to strangle her, sir!

Oh!

We'd better let the others know

the kind of man they're looking for.

I'll be back in a moment.

This is dreadful, Barbara.

Were you here all alone?

I was playing...

because I felt so unhappy

about the things I'd said to you.

I deserve them.

I've broken my promise to you

about the concerto.

I'm sorry.

Will you keep your promise

and finish it?

Yes, I will.

Thank you.

I knew you would.

What's that you were playing?

- Something from my concerto.

- Oh?

So that's why I haven't seen you

these past few days.

Precisely.

By the way, darling,

how's my song coming?

- It isn't.

- You haven't worked on it?

Not for days.

I haven't even looked at it.

I can't write songs for you

when I'm supposed to...

Well, that's only because...

I haven't been here to help you.

No. Because I want to

get on with my concerto.

Oh, darling, couldn't you put that aside

just for a little while, for me?

I've already put my own work aside

far too long for you.

But it's...

it's just one more song.

It's always one more. They get stale so fast

I never have time to do anything else.

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