People Will Talk Page #8

But if you were to tell him that a most pressing

matter concerning the university...

I'm afraid he cannot

be disturbed.

Mrs. Praetorius, I assure you

that it is necessary for me to talk with him.

It just is not possible.

You're welcome to wait if you like...

but I assure you my husband

will be in conference until dinnertime.

I, too, have a home, Mrs. Praetorius.

I have come here

at no little inconvenience to myself.

Exactly what have you come here for,

Professor Elwell?

I have a message for your husband.

Not a happy one, I regret to say.

Oh?

Well, if you'll give it to me,

I'll see that he gets it.

Uh, I had hoped...

that is, I have been asked,

to inform Dr. Praetorius of it in person.

Has the message to do with some

confidential information about a patient?

It has to do only

with your husband.

In that case it doesn't matter

whether I tell him about it or he tells me.

A relationship...

- A relationship of such

mutual trust is heartwarming.

- Thank you.

You understand that my presence here

is a matter of duty...

not necessarily

personal inclination.

You are well known

as a man without personal inclinations.

Thank you.

- May I have a glass of water?

- On the table. Help yourself.

- It's so beautifully arranged.

- Just drinking some water won't hurt it.

You're extremely generous.

Mrs. Praetorius...

there have been

for some time now...

persistent, but obviously unreliable rumors

about your husband.

About women?

About the circumstances

under which he has practiced medicine...

about his methods and certain events,

both past and present.

Oh, that.

And, uh, in view

of certain disclosures...

unfounded of course, which

have come to light recently...

concerning both Dr. Praetorius

and his most intimate associate.

My husband is intimate

only with me.

The dean of our university...

has asked me to present

to Dr. Praetorius...

a list of the charges that

have been brought against him.

Who brought these charges?

Dean Brockwell invites your husband

to disprove these charges.

In confidence,

of course.

Should your husband be unwilling

to accept this offer of a private hearing...

then the dean will have no recourse

other than to summon Dr. Praetorius...

before

a faculty committee...

for an open discussion

of the charges in question.

They must be pretty serious.

What are they?

- I'm not privileged to reveal them.

- But you know what they are.

Unhappily, I do.

This must be a great strain

on you, Professor.

The performance of one's

duty in a profession...

founded upon such

high standards of honor...

dignity, learning and ethics...

One thing you can be sure of... my husband

isn't going to sneak into the dean's office...

to clear his name in private.

He'll drag those nasty, vicious rumors

of yours right out into the open...

and get rid of them in the open

where you've been spreading them!

Mrs. Praetorius,

you're not being objective.

We are discussing my husband,

not a kidney.

You are also leaping

at conclusions.

All rumors need not necessarily be vicious

and nasty. It depends upon the viewpoint.

I am pretty well committed

to one particular viewpoint, Professor.

Quite so. Well, I must be going.

I admire your courage

and faith.

Most women would be

perhaps... apprehensive.

- Most women are not married to my husband.

- True.

Whatever he did,

he did for good and sufficient reason...

even if it turns out

he murdered somebody.

I have never had occasion

to envy Dr. Praetorius.

May I say that I envy him you?

You have that right

under the Constitution of the United States.

Will you show the professor to the door,

Mr. Shunderson? He's leaving.

- Thank you for your hospitality.

- Drop in any time.

Give this to the miracle man.

I'll take it to him.

Beep.!

Beep-beep.

Beep-beep-beep.

What was that?

Uh, darling?

- Professor Lionel Barker!

- What happened?

"What happened?" Did your train leave

on beep-beep or beep-beep-beep?

- Beep-beep-beep.

- Your signal was beep-beep.

- Arthur's signal was beep-beep.

Mine was beep-beep-beep.

- We'll soon find out about that.

It was beep-beep-beep...

What a bloody mess.

And whose fault is it,

my fine atomic friend?

You can't go around smashing

everything you see. Everything isn't atoms.

- Yes, it is.

- Not for smashing. Not in

my house and not my train.

Deborah, get out of the way

before Professor Barker smashes you.

- Darling...

- Beep-beep-beep. Those were your orders.

- Arthur, what was your signal

to dispatch your train?

- Beep-beep.

I told you so. Mine was beep-beep-beep.

- Arthur,

yours was beep-beep-beep.

- Beep-beep.

- Beep-beep.

- Beep-beep-beep.!

They're my trains and

I'm the chief dispatcher.

Beep from you, beep-beep from you

and beep-beep-beep from Arthur.

- What difference does it make?

- Look at this disaster.

In case of disaster, the responsibility remains

with the chief dispatcher.

And with a catastrophe like this,

he either resigns or blows his brains out.

I refuse to be held accountable

for the inability of two idiotic assistants...

to remember two simple signals.

- Noah, darling...

- I consider your high-handed

refusal to accept...

the testimony of two responsible men

as worse than idiotic.

Under the circumstances,

I consider it criminal.

Your signal was beep-beep-beep

and you know it was beep-beep-beep!

- Noah!

- Deborah, I'll leave it to you,

but remember, you're my wife.

Is this what you're crying about?

Then what?

It's just that I love you so much and I went

and put all those candles on that cake...

when you're really only nine years old.

According to this document,

I am not the picture of childish innocence...

you imagine me to be.

- Do you want to read it?

- No.

Do you want me to tell you about it?

Not if you think you shouldn't.

"Not if you think

you shouldn't..."

is a phrase used exclusively

by women who assume a man's guilt...

without having the guts

to come out and say so.

Nothing could be less important to me

than this whole business...

of rumors and charges against you.

That's my girl.

Just a minute.

Just from the type of men who attack you,

anybody'd know you were innocent.

Anybody with half an eye.

You haven't done anything you shouldn't have,

have you, Noah?

Many times, but not as a doctor.

Don't let it worry you.

I won't.

- Noah?

- Hmm?

Does it seem to you that I cry a lot?

Truthfully, darling,

there's never been anything like it...

since the little Dutch boy

took his finger out of the dike.

- He never took it out. That's what killed him.

- Pompous know-it-all.

I never used to cry

at all, you know.

If I bumped my head...

something like that...

but now the least little thing

that happens, I start to bawl.

Why do you suppose it is?

Why do you suppose it is?

I get upset so easily these days,

and I used to be...

well, if anything, sort of calm,

even placid about things.

- What did you say the name of that frog was?

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