Here Comes the Groom Page #7

- Come on, boys. Get busy.

Isn't this quite a fuss to make

about a simple matter?

It's not simple to me or to these little

waifs. Why, it's an outrage. It's pract...

You're...

- You're Mr. Stanley?

- That's right.

- Not Wilbur Stanley?

- Wilbur.

It's hardly a name I'd have chosen

for myself.

Gentlemen, do you have your leases?

I have mine, sir. Here it is.

McGonigle is the name.

And yours?

Oh, I'm Garvey.

That was quite a stirring speech you

greeted me with. What's the gimmick?

- Gimmick, Mr. Stanley?

- Gimmick, Mr. Garvey.

Because this is obviously

a simple clerical error.

A simple clerical error? With these two

poor little children out in the night air

in this South Boston monsoon?

I don't think the courts will take

that view of it, sir.

- Now we're coming to it.

- Right!

I don't think Boston will be very proud

when it reads the Morning Express.

Boston is never proud of itself when

it reads the Express, Mr. Degnan.

- Pictures and everything, right?

- Yeah, sure.

- Newsworthy pictures too.

- I see.

Well, what is it you want, Mr. Garvey?

A bigger house?

No, no. My fiancee picked out

this house. She loves it here.

- Your fiance?

- Yes.

- Getting married, Mr. Garvey?

- Saturday, Mr. Stanley.

Well, what do you know.

Why, Mr. Stanley's getting married

on Saturday too, Mr. Garvey.

Well, how about that?

I thought everybody knew I was

getting married on Saturday.

You and the Express

and your Cinderella story.

Hey, that's the prince. He's the one

that's gonna marry the Cinderella.

He's younger than you thought he was,

isn't he, Peter?

And he's better-looking than you

thought he was. Isn't he, Peter?

All that and 40 million dollars besides.

I'd love to stay with you,

but we ought to get

- these little children in out of the rain.

- Oh, yes.

- Where's Mr. Garvey?

- I'm over here in the balcony.

Well, if you will come down

to the office with me,

Mr. Garvey,

I'll try to find something for you.

I'd like to find something

really nice.

- Goodbye, everybody.

- Goodbye!

See you at the wedding!

The office, Dino.

May I congratulate you

on the vigor and enterprise

with which you get things done,

Mr. Garvey?

Hey, you're no easy man

to shave yourself, Mr. Stanley.

Well, now that we're alone,

Mr. Garvey, give.

What was that big mishmash

all about?

That was a light case of blackmail.

Well, that's plain enough.

What is it you want, Mr. Garvey?

I'd like to spend the next few days

in your gatehouse, Mr. Stanley.

Why?

Seems you and I have

duplicate leases too.

I don't understand.

- Know that girl you'll marry Saturday?

- Yes.

That's the girl

I'm gonna marry Saturday.

You're the newspaperman,

the one that was in Paris.

- Right. She told you about me, huh?

- You have no idea what she told me.

I can imagine.

Well, I guess you know by now

that she loves me, Mr. Stanley.

- She's in love with me, Mr. Garvey.

- Oh, no, that's a rebound job.

- I was away three years.

- Two of those she worked for me.

No, it wasn't rebound.

I'm sorry.

It was a gradual, careful, wonderful

falling-in-love-with-each-other.

Then you're not afraid to have me

try to win her back?

Afraid? No, Mr. Garvey.

But I'm not interested in taking the

long end of a thousand-to-one shot.

If I thought you were any competition...

Even money in my book, Mr. Stanley.

- Really?

- Sure.

How does my gatehouse

figure in your plans?

Well, I pictured you as a doddering old

fossil, stumbling about your vast estate

with a shawl

over your shoulders,

and warming your cold, old hands

over a bonfire of dollar bills.

Then I pictured me stalking about

in my manly vigor,

and I figured Emmy can't resist,

that's all.

And now?

I'm revising my plans.

You're perfectly welcome

to move into the gatehouse.

You're welcome to try to beat

my time with Emmadel,

because I'm perfectly sure of myself

and of her, Mr. Garvey.

Me too. I'm sure of myself,

I'm sure of Emmy.

- I just have to remind her of things.

- What things?

Well, I'd like to know what ammunition

you have, I might want to shoot back.

Emmy likes sailing. I'm a good sailor.

We get her on a sailboat, you know...

Well, I won the Bar Harbor Regatta

two years in a row.

Well, I can handle myself around

professional wrestlers. There's...

I taught judo during the war.

- I'm a low-handicap golfer.

- I'm the state amateur champion.

- Cigarette?

- Thanks.

How's your canasta?

Pretty good.

I'm secretary of the whist club.

Like Irving Berlin says, "Anything you

can do, I can do better", huh?

Well, I'm taller than you

and probably a little younger

and possibly a little richer.

Trifles. Nothing.

What have you got that'll offset

40 million dollars, Mr. Garvey?

Forty million dollars.

You know, I can't

quite handle it?

I got a couple of kids though,

and Emmy loves kids.

I know.

And we hope to have triplets

before the year's out.

Now, you still want to live

in the gatehouse, Mr. Garvey?

I guess I am giving away

a lot of weight, but I'll chance it.

You may slip on a banana peel.

I won't allow a banana

around the place.

- Any particular rules?

- No rules. No holds barred.

No hollering "foul" or anything like that.

Best man wins. Deal?

- A deal.

- Emmadel will be the referee.

The referee and the purse.

Done.

I'm certainly glad

you showed up.

I probably always would've wondered

about that newspaperman in Paris.

Emmadel hates you so much,

I was beginning to be uneasy.

Now, I can see I had nothing

to worry about.

Home, Dino.

I've just invited Mr. Garvey

to my wedding.

- One thing.

- What?

Don't tell Emmadel

about this contest.

If she knew, she'd probably marry me

out of sheer stubbornness.

I'd never know which one of us

she really wanted.

You know Emmadel.

I know her better than you do,

Mr. Stanley.

That's my little secret weapon.

- On your marks?

- Get set.

- Ready.

- Go.

Lydia, I want you to stop

every darn clock in the house.

Well, when the clock struck 12,

Cinderella turned back into a pumpkin.

Of course.

Now, look at yourself.

- Can that be Emmadel Jones?

- Only for four more days, darling.

- Wilbur!

- Hold it! Hold it.

- Here, take this. Don't drink it.

- Do you like it?

- Perfect. Perfect just the way you are.

- For breakfast?

No, for presentation to the court,

Cinderella.

If we're to live a fairy tale,

let's live it.

- This is my best party dress.

- There's more where that came from.

Oh, Wilbur. If somebody pinches me

and wakes me up,

I'll kill them, so help me.

When I think of my skirts and sweaters

and my one good black dress,

I'm gonna have to be such a good wife

to deserve all of this.

Oh! And I've been sampling

all the perfume. Do I smell awful?

You smell like a flower garden

in a spring rain.

Oh, you mustn't be nice to me, I bawl.

I always bawl.

- Will the whole family be there?

- Whole family.

- Will my family be there?

- They're having breakfast in bed.

Breakfast in bed? Pa too?

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