Midnight Page #4

You'll take it. It's smart.

What do you think,

Jacques?

Why, never let

a man tell you

what to wear, my dear.

The minute you do,

you've lost him.

Well, it's...

Oh, I think it's

a dream on you.

You know, it

does something

for your face.

It gives you a chin.

Hello, Baroness.

Hello. Thanks

for the flowers.

They were lovely.

Were they?

How thoughtful.

Well, I thought I owed

the Baroness something

after our losses.

Here's something

for golf.

Oh, if you want it

for duck shooting,

we replace

the golf balls

with eggs.

There won't be

any duck shooting,

will there?

Where?

Oh, I forgot

to thank you.

It was darling of you

to ask me to your place

for the weekend.

My place?

Yes, I just ran

into your husband.

He invited me.

Georges seems to be

inviting everyone

this weekend.

Well, if it's going

to be a crowd, I'm sure

this will be all right.

Send it to the Ritz,

Baroness Czerny.

Why, the woman isn't human,

buying a hat without

trying it on.

Oh, I haven't time.

I'm so busy shopping.

Where's the best place

for riding boots?

Oh, Iribes.

Just around the corner.

Left, right,

or the corner

across the street?

I don't suppose

you could show me.

Well...

Do, Jacques,

by all means.

I'd hate to have you

get lost in Paris.

Thank you.

I'll send him

back as good as new.

Come, Jacques. Goodbye.

Goodbye.

Well, did you ever,

in all your life...

You poor thing. And

good men so scarce.

Who is that woman, anyway?

Why, I thought

she was a friend

of yours.

I never saw her before

last night. Did you hear

what she said about my chin?

Why, you've

got plenty of chin.

Just keep it up.

Why, hello,

Stephanie.

Oh, there you are.

Oh, hello, Helene.

Oh, dear. If ever

a woman needed

a new hat, it's I.

I'm being sued

for 50,000 francs.

No!

By whom?

By the

Archduchess of Mendola.

You know that creature

I had thrown out

last night,

and I thought it was

that Eve Peabody?

It really was

the Archduchess of Mendola.

No!

Yes.

Then the imposter

is still unaccounted for.

Yes, that's right.

Stephanie,

do you still have

that pawn ticket?

Heard any news

about Czerny's girl?

They haven't

found her, yet.

I'm going to take a look

around the Arc de Triomphe.

Win.

Pierre! They think

they saw Czerny's girl

on the Rue de Rivoli.

We're on our way.

Oh, what a day.

I could eat it

with a spoon.

Well, I hoped

there would be

a thunderstorm.

The road blocked,

the bridges washed out

and Ferdinand killed

by a falling tree.

Then a little wayside inn

with a pheasant roasting

over the fire.

Oh, no, I wouldn't have

much appetite. Not with

Ferdinand dead in a puddle.

There'll be hundreds

of people at

the Flammariors.

We'll never see

each other alone.

Good.

What's good about it?

I'm a married woman.

Why didn't I

meet you first?

Oh, Jacques!

Come on now,

be honest.

If you had,

you'd have run

like a jack rabbit.

Well, my mother

always says...

Now, never mind

that mother of yours.

What's the idea of

bumping into my cab?

Are you implying that

we ran into you?

You heard me!

You'd better change your tone,

my friend. You're entirely in

the wrong, as I can testify.

Well, I've got

to report this to

the insurance people.

Why, this car belongs

to the Baroness Czerny.

Who?

This lady,

Baroness Czerny,

Ritz Hotel.

Drive on, Ferdinand.

Yes, madame.

I am a rich man!

Let me through.

Here.

Where is the money?

I've found her.

One cognac.

What's that you say?

Let's wait

for the cognac.

Come on, you can

talk without a cognac.

It's for you, Czerny,

when you hear what

I've got to say.

Come on!

She lives at the Ritz.

She's got a high-class car

with a chauffeur that

drives like this.

And now would you

like to know what

her name is?

Her name is

Eve Peabody.

Oh, no, it isn't.

Not now!

It's Czerny.

Czerny?

The Baroness Czerny.

Give me that cognac!

Good afternoon,

Monsieur Picot.

Good afternoon, madame.

Good afternoon.

It's rather overpowering,

isn't it?

Oh, nonsense. You could

put it in the left wing

of the Czerny Chateau.

Oh, Monsieur Picot,

I have very good

news for you.

We found

your cuff link.

You did?

It was in

Madame Flammariors

sitting room.

The wind probably

blew it in.

Well. Nice drive down?

We thought

you were lost.

Oh, it was so lovely

we dawdled a little.

Dawdled?

Yes. We stopped

at a little lake

and skipped pebbles.

Tomorrow, you can

roll hoops if you

feel like It.

Where are you putting

the Baroness and

Jacques, Helene?

Why, we have you

in the east wing.

You get the morning sun there.

And you, of course,

have your usual room.

In the west wing, sir.

Let me take you up,

Baroness.

Thank you.

Oh, Jacques,

you have my comb.

So I have.

Thanks.

Nice little bungalow

you've got here. I wish

I'd brought my roller skates.

Yes, it's

18th century,

my dear.

I bought it from the

15th Duke of Navarre

for a song.

A shining example

of trade over tradition.

How's it going?

All right. In fact,

a little better

than all right.

That boy ought to have

his brakes relined.

I know his speed.

Yesterday he suggested that

we cruise the Mediterranean

on his yacht,

and this morning he appeared

with an emerald as big

as a trouser button.

I'll take it out

of your salary.

Don't worry,

I refused it.

Why? Get everything

you can out of this deal.

That's what I'm doing.

You know something?

I have a crazy idea he may

ask me to divorce my husband.

And marry him?

You don't know

Jacques Picot.

You don't know

Eve Peabody.

Now, listen, we had

the windows open.

When you ride with

the windows open,

your hair gets blown

and you have to comb it.

Besides,

it's none of my business.

Why don't you say that?

All right, Helene.

Let's have a few

serious words, shall we?

I don't think you have

six serious words in you.

Oh, yes.

I could make

a very noble speech.

I could say that

we've played with fire.

That Georges is

a friend of mine,

that I don't want to

endanger a happy marriage.

Well, the truth is,

and I'm going to ask

you to face it squarely...

You're in love

with her.

I am.

What's the matter?

That's what I adore

about you.

You're behaving

like a schoolboy.

A woman walks

into the room

and looks at you,

and you lose your head.

You dawdle, and sit

by the fire and

throw pebbles.

You really are

a darling.

She's wonderful.

But you don't know

anything about her.

None of us do.

I've asked all of my friends,

and nobody's ever

heard of her.

Who is she?

Maybe her hair's dyed.

Maybe she's poisoned

three husbands. Maybe we'll

find out things about her.

You're jealous, Helene.

Terribly. Fun, isn't it?

Milk or lemon?

Where do you

think you're going?

Inside, to talk

to the Baroness Czerny.

The Baroness Czerny's

not ordered a taxi!

She's out of town

for the weekend.

Where?

We don't give out

any information

regarding our guests.

Where?

Move along,

my good man.

Stop it!

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