Mr. Skeffington Page #6

Those poor men.

Lafayette Escadrille.

Georgie, isn't that Trippy?

I don't know. It went by so fast.

I couldn't see.

Georgie, it is Trippy.

What did the title say?

Where is he?

- Somewhere in France.

- Do you suppose he really flies a plane?

He must, if he's a member

of the Lafayette Escadrille.

Georgie, would you please

get me a glass of wa...?

- Fanny.

- Something wrong?

Oh, Mrs. Skeffington.

George, call Dr. Fawcett on the phone.

Oh, Mrs. Skeffington.

Nothing to worry about.

She's absolutely all right.

- Fine.

- I suppose it was the shock...

...of seeing her brother on the screen.

- It wasn't entirely that.

What do you mean?

I usually make a ceremony

of these things...

...but I've a patient uptown I must get to,

so I'll tell you right out.

You're going to be a father.

Why, thank you.

All I can say to you is good night.

And, doctor? Is it all right

if I go in to see her?

Certainly. I've given her a sedative...

...but you'll have five minutes

for the usual nonsense.

Don't put on the light, Job.

I've been crying.

Is there anything I can do for you?

No.

Would you like to be alone?

No.

Shall I come sit on the bed

and talk to you?

No.

You mean I'm just to keep on standing

where I am in the dark.

I suppose it's the custom for the father

to kiss the expectant mother.

I'm very happy, Fanny.

How about you?

Well, at the moment,

I'm more surprised than happy.

Don't you like children?

No. They always seem to be so wise.

Well, I think any child of ours has

a fair chance of being stupid, Fanny.

You're laughing at me again.

I suppose I'm just as fond

of children as anybody else.

Well, it's just that...

It's just that babies grow up, and everybody

expects you to grow up with them.

You're not afraid

of growing old, are you, Fanny?

Yes, I am.

Well, babies stay young

for quite a long time.

Other people's babies, never your own.

Do I look puffy yet?

You look beautiful, Fanny.

I don't know why.

My face is all tear-stained.

Just enough to be becoming.

Well, I wanted to keep on crying,

but I didn't have the strength.

You see, the sedative the doctor gave me

made me very drowsy.

Soon, I'll be all swollen

and puffy and ugly.

I don't want anybody to see me

like that. I couldn't bear it.

Job, George is going to California

in a week. I want to go with him...

...and have my baby there.

You don't want to have

your baby in this house?

No.

But, Fanny, you love this house so much.

Why, you made me

give up my home and live here.

Of course I love this house,

but it's too close to my friends.

I won't have them see me

all swollen and ugly.

You'll never be ugly, Fanny.

And I don't care how swollen you look.

Fanny, a woman is beautiful

when she's loved. And only then.

Nonsense. A woman is beautiful

if she has eight hours' sleep...

...and goes to the

beauty parlor every day.

And bone structure

has a lot to do with it too.

But I'm so busy in New York,

and California is a six-day train trip.

I won't be able to see you very often.

I'll write you every week, Job.

Fanny, that's not the point.

I want to be near you.

I'm so sleepy.

All right, Fanny. You can go

to California if you want to.

Fanny, aren't you really happy

about having...?

Good afternoon, Mrs. Skeffington.

Some more flowers from your husband.

- "Condition excellent."

- Yes, I know she's all right...

...but if I could just hear her voice.

- I'm sorry. She's asleep.

All right.

Goodbye.

A girl? Wonderful.

How's Fanny?

Tell me, did you look at the baby's feet?

I mean, has she got all her toes?

Here, cover that up.

- Hello, darling.

- Fanny, here's your mother.

- Good afternoon, Marie.

- Good afternoon.

- Have you been a good girl?

- Of course, she's been a good girl.

Kiss your uncle Georgie, Fanny.

- Mrs. Skeffington?

- Yes, Marie?

- Professor Hyslop's waiting at the house.

- Thank you.

- You coming in, Job?

- Not yet. I'd like to watch Fanny play.

Don't be long. The dinner's at 8.

- Chester and Freddie are going with us.

- Think they'd mind if I came along?

Oh, Job.

Come on, sweetheart. Come on.

Sit down here with your father.

Oh, you're wonderful.

You're wonderful.

I've got something for you.

- Little Sambo.

- Sambo?

Job, who's this Professor Hyslop?

He's some young fellow.

He's not a professor.

Speaks on street corners or something.

- Isn't he that evangelist?

- He's not that either.

He's got a cult all his own.

I think it has to do with deep breathing

on a vegetable diet.

- What's he doing with Fanny?

- He doesn't consider her a disciple.

He's one of the new suitors

that came along when I went to camp.

Fanny's still having suitors.

Ought not you to be a little more

firm about that?

Fanny cannot live on oxygen alone.

She's got to be surrounded by men.

- But she doesn't have to lead them on.

- She doesn't.

She just sits, and they come to her.

It doesn't mean anything.

I think she handles them well.

It saves me the trouble

of sending flowers and candy.

I think you could give the original Job

a few pointers on patience.

Well, there's little Fanny.

She makes up for a lot of things.

I'm glad she's a girl. You can kiss

your daughter for the rest of your life.

With a boy, well, after a while,

you have to start shaking hands.

It's getting cool, and it's

Fanny's dinnertime.

Come on, darling.

Daddy's gonna watch you have dinner.

- Dada.

- What did you say, darling?

Dads, how I get to be so little?

Come along.

- Good night, sweetheart.

- Dada?

Now, what is it?

Oh, no, no. You've been twice already.

You go to sleep, and I'll send your mommy

in to say good night to you.

I've taken counsel with myself, Fanny,

and my conscience is clear.

It's true it's written that, whom God hath

joined together, let no man put asunder.

But it is also inscribed,

worship ye at the temple.

To me, Fanny, you are a temple

wherein I may worship.

But, Myles, don't you see

I'm all wrong for you.

I don't breathe properly.

I love steaks and roasts.

- I can't bear the sight of a vegetable.

- Fanny.

- Fanny, you're laughing at me.

- I can't help it, Myles.

Fanny, how can you do this to me?

My life is ruined now.

Destiny brought us together,

and destiny cries out for fulfillment.

Well, are we ready to go?

In just a while.

The professor is proposing to Fanny.

He'll be down in a minute.

Goodbye, Fanny. Forever.

Oh, thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you.

What have you got, son?

- Telegram for Mrs. Skeffington.

- I'll take it.

All right. Sign here, please.

It's from the War Department.

Thank you.

Trippy?

- Fanny?

- I won't be five minutes, Job.

Could I speak to you?

Would you mind waiting?

I'm in a rush.

Manby, get my pearls, will you?

It's important.

It's a telegram.

- A telegram, Job? From whom?

- From the War Department.

It isn't anything about Trippy, is it?

Could we sit down

for a moment, please?

What is it, Job?

Fanny...

...Trippy has been killed in action.

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