Playback Page #10

MARGO:

(with sudden deadly

sweetness)

Of course, darling. Anything you

say.

She goes off with Mitchell. Killaine looks after then

puzzled. Brandon is indifferent.

KILLAINE:

That's what I like about cocktail

parties. Everyone is so perfectly

natural.

BRANDON:

How's life treating you?

KILLAINE:

The usual grind.

BRANDON:

Round of golf Saturday?

KILLAINE:

If I can get off.

INT. ROYAL HOTEL - PENTHOUSE - LIVING ROOM -- NIGHT

CORNER OF THE ROOM

Betty is sitting alone as Margo and Mitchell COME INTO

SHOT.

MITCHELL:

Betty, this is Margo West. She

wants to meet you. Miss Mayfield.

BETTY:

How do you do?

MARGO:

(staring at her)

You're very attractive, my dear.

And you look very unsophisticated.

MITCHELL:

Unsophisticated?

(he laughs nastily)

If I knew about this babe...

Betty stands up quickly.

BETTY:

I think I'd like to dance.

MITCHELL:

Why certainly, baby.

He puts his arm around Betty and dances off with her,

leaving Margo standing.

CAMERA FOLLOWS THEM as they dance.

They pass Mr. Clarendon, who is sitting as usual with his

sliver-haired cane between his legs, paying no particular

attention to anything.

BETTY:

(to Mitchell as

they dance)

Please be a little more careful

how you talk, Mr. Mitchell.

MITCHELL:

How careful should I be?

BETTY:

I don't like being referred to as

babe, or addressed as baby. I don't

like your possessive attitude, nor

your hints of secret knowledge. In

fact, to be very frank, Mr.

Mitchell, I don't think I like

you.

MITCHELL:

Maybe you're going to have to like

me.

He disengages her left hand enough to hold it up and look

at it.

MITCHELL:

You've shed the ring, haven't you?

Took my advice. That's the girl.

Keep right on taking my advice and

we'll get somewhere.

Betty jerks away from him and stops.

BETTY:

I think you're drunk.

MITCHELL:

Just drunk enough.

He puts his arm around her, pulls her close to him, and

tilts her head back. She struggles against him, silently.

He pushes her head back father and kisses her solidly on

the mouth. She finally breaks away from him with flashing

eyes.

MITCHELL:

What's the matter, baby? Don't you

like being kissed?

BETTY:

(with cold fury)

Next time you try that, Mr.

Mitchell...

(a beat, she takes

a deep breath,

then very pointedly)

..don't. I'm warning you.

BRANDON AND MARGO COME INTO SHOT FROM DIFFERENT DIRECTIONS

BRANDON:

Do me a favor, Mitchell. Find

yourself a nice secluded park bench.

MITCHELL:

(airily)

Did I do something wrong?

BRANDON:

I wouldn't know. Just do it

somewhere else. There is such a

thing as good manners.

MITCHELL:

How would you know, Brandon?

BRANDON:

(harshly)

Want to walk out... or get thrown

out?

MITCHELL:

You don't throw guests out, Brandon.

BRANDON:

Don't bet on it. I'm eccentric.

The two men glare at each other. Mitchell finally shrugs

then goes towards the door.

MARGO:

(to Brandon, quietly)

It takes two to clinch. Clark.

Nice to have seen you.

She starts towards the door. Brandon hurries quickly to

open it for her. She goes without looking at him, her mouth

tight. He shuts the door, looks back towards Betty, who

has remained standing perfectly still. She takes a

handkerchief out of her bag and scrubs her mouth off as

Brandon comes back to her. Clarendon stands up slowly.

BRANDON:

(to Betty, offhand)

Dance?

BETTY:

No thank you.

CLARENDON:

(to Brandon)

Where I come from, Mr. Brandon,

the host tries to protect his guests

from insult.

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