Next Time We Love Page #8

out for myself.

I think that's marvelous.

Where do you begin?

I don't know. May go on to

Berlin. Like to come with me?

Berlin? Yes, I'd like to,

but I don't think I can.

Later.

Yes, sir.

I was almost sure when I

got your letter, Christopher.

Now that I see you,

I am sure.

Of what are you

going to die?

Whatever made you think

I was going to die?

Your letter of resignation sounded

more like a last will and testament.

All right then.

You see, the germs you find in China

are almost as unclassified as the people.

They don't even know the name

of the ones I've collected.

But they do know

what they're doing to me.

By "they" I suppose

you mean the doctors?

Yes, I've been

to enough of them.

Is that why they sent you

to Switzerland?

Yes, they thought it would

prolong things a little.

There's nothing much to say,

except you've done good work.

Several hundred front page

stories buried in the files.

Yellowing files, Chris.

Don't forget the adjective.

Thanks for not being

sympathetic.

How about the famous

Cicely Tyler?

I haven't told her.

Don't you think

you'd better?

One last wifely gesture

wouldn't do her any harm.

A wifely gesture is something

I've never wanted of Cicely.

I had a cable from her

this morning.

She wants me to meet her

in Saint Anton in a month.

Saint Anton?

Yes. We spent several weeks

there together two years ago.

Suppose she guesses

when she sees you?

I'm a pretty good

actor myself.

Aren't you being a little on the

heroic side? No. No. It's not heroism.

It's just that we've both

known the best of each other.

And I want it to end

with that still true.

I wonder if you have any idea how rarely

one finds a couple like you and Cicely.

Not just one of you having the

courage to live alone, but both of you.

Most of the time,

there hasn't been much choice.

Oh, one of you could have got

frightened and hung onto the other's neck

and drowned both of you

in a sea of matrimonial bliss.

That's what

usually happens.

It's amazing the things

people ask of love.

They expect it to protect them,

keep them from being bored,

make them work harder.

In fact, they want

everything except love.

I should be talking

of love at my age.

But I've seen it so seldom that when I do,

I like to stop and warm my hands before it.

I remember the first time

I met her.

There was a look in her eyes when

she spoke of you. I'm sorry, Chris.

What you and Cicely have

together or apart doesn't die out.

Now, let's order a bottle of wine and

discuss the only proper topic for you and me,

the newspaper business.

All right. On one condition, that

you let me buy the bottle of wine.

You know, it was my ambition

when I was a cub reporter

to know the managing editor well enough

to take him out and buy him a drink.

Waiter.

How are you, Gottlieb?

Fine.

Thank you.

Mrs. Tyler, it's good to have

you back again. We missed you.

Otto, it's so nice to be here.

Is Mr. Tyler in?

Yes, in his room. Yes.

Have you got a room for me?

Yes, as you requested in

your telegram. Thank you.

Please.

What number's

Mr. Tyler's room?

Thank you.

Thank you.

Come in.

Hello, Cicely.

Hello, Chris.

You didn't let me know

what time you'd get here,

or I'd have been downstairs

to meet you.

I motored up, you know.

You're looking marvelously.

Thank you.

How's Kit?

Oh, he's fine.

He's staying at Tommy's ranch

in California.

Well, that ought to be

fun for him.

Chris, you look

terribly tired.

Well, I've been working

rather hard.

On your book?

Yes.

How's it coming?

Oh, it's beginning

to shape up.

Yes? Tell me about it.

Well, it's the novel

I swore I'd never write.

Well, won't you sit down? I'll get

you some tea, something to drink.

No, thank you.

In your last letter, you

asked me if I wanted a divorce.

Naturally, you can't

go on like this,

being half married,

half not married.

No. I suppose not.

Tell me, Chris, it isn't just because of

your book that you're staying away, is it?

No.

No, I didn't think so,

but I had to make sure.

What is it, Chris?

Well, it's rather

hard to explain.

It's just that one day

I realized that I had

stopped thinking about you

for quite some time.

Things like that

seem to happen.

Well, that seems a fairly

complete explanation.

Why didn't you write me

that in your letter?

I thought you would guess.

It's peaceful here, isn't it?

Yes. I like it much better

out of season.

How's Tommy?

Oh, fine.

Is he still

in love with you?

Yes.

Just before I left, he asked me if

I wouldn't divorce you and marry him.

Do you want to?

I'm thinking about it.

Might be a very good thing for you

after the rotten time you had with me.

Chris.

Did you ever hear me say I'd

had a rotten time with you?

Well, we've been happy when

we've been together, of course,

but that's not enough

for a lifetime.

It's enough for me.

Cigarette?

No, thanks.

I've given them up.

Well, there doesn't seem to be much left

to say or much reason for my staying.

I could almost be back to

Innsbruck in time for dinner.

Oh, must you go now? Well, I thought

perhaps you'd stay here for dinner.

Of course,

if you'd rather not...

Goodbye, Christopher.

Maybe next time we live,

we'll have time for each other.

I'm being rather stupid,

aren't I?

I'm making such a tragedy

of things.

I don't have to go

for another three days.

Couldn't we just forget

everything that's happened

and have a very gay and

amusing time like old friends?

There's so many places here we never

saw, Chris, and I've got the car.

Let's have a real holiday.

First of all,

we'll have dinner.

I know. We'll go to that little place up

the valley where we went the last time.

You remember?

Yes. Yes, I remember.

All right.

Call for me about 7:00.

Thank you, that's right.

By the way, will you give

this to Mrs. Tyler please?

Yes, Herr Tyler.

Shall I send it up to her?

No. Give it to her when

she comes down for dinner.

Goodbye, Otto. Goodbye.

Hope to see you back soon.

Thank you. Bye-bye.

There you are.

Thank you. Goodbye.

Goodbye.

Chris. Chris.

What is it, Chris?

Didn't you get my note?

You said you suddenly

found you had to go.

I tried to explain

this afternoon.

Yes. You don't love me

anymore. I can understand that.

But not your

running away from me.

Chris, you never ran away

from anything in your life.

Just that I realized that

it wouldn't work, that's all.

Three days of pretending,

it would make us both unhappy.

You can't even be my friend?

We've gotten beyond that.

What is it, Chris?

Nothing.

You're hiding

something from me.

It's nothing, I tell you.

Chris, this isn't you talking.

It isn't.

You can't make me believe it.

Not even when you tell me you don't

love me. I'll never believe that.

But, Cicely, I can't explain

anymore. I just want to get away.

We'll have to say goodbye.

Not this way. No.

Oh, Cicely, I can't. I can't.

Chris.

Chris.

In that coat pocket. Tin box.

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