Playback Page #7

WAITER:

Beer or ale, Miss?

BETTY:

Ale. I don't mind.

WAITER:

Right, Miss.

He turns away. Brandon is smiling at her faintly, She meets

his eyes, smiles back.

BETTY:

(to Brandon)

Your liquor laws..

BRANDON:

(cutting in)

Disgusting, aren't they? If you

really want a Martini, I know where

you can get one.

Betty looks inquiringly at him and doesn't speak.

BRANDON:

A fellow named Brandon has a

penthouse here. He's holding open

house. I was up there. Too noisy.

Bored.

BETTY:

I see.

BRANDON:

(indifferently)

It might be worth a Martini to

you.

BETTY:

I don't need it that badly. I don't

enjoy crashing other people's

parties.

BRANDON:

It's open-house. No crashing

involved. Anybody in the hotel's

welcome.

BETTY:

What did you say his name was?

BRANDON:

Brandon. Clark Brandon. Fellow

about my age. Lot of money... that

he didn't make. Former American.

Now naturalized in Canada. Social

standing indeterminate. Manners

not quite perfect. Scotch superb.

BETTY:

You don't sound as if you liked

him very much.

BRANDON:

(quietly)

No.. not very well. And I like his

friends even less. But..

(he waves his hand

indifferently)

If you really want a good dry

Martini..

BETTY:

As I said before...

BRANDON:

Sure. But I'd hate like the Dickens

to be held to everything I've said

before, wouldn't you?

Betty suddenly laughs. The waiter brings the glass and the

bottle of bass ale, sets them down in front of her. Brandon

makes a motion and the waiter goes away without collecting.

BETTY:

You're not paying for this. It's

quite enough that you let me sit

at your table.

BRANDON:

I never pay for anything. They

just keep me here to amuse the

guests.

BETTY:

And do you amuse the guests?

BRANDON:

No.

(indicating her

bottle of ale)

Are you really going to drink that

stuff?

BETTY:

You're drinking it.

BRANDON:

(indicating his

almost untouched

glass)

I can be talked out of it. As a

matter of fact, I'd like a dry

Martini myself.

BETTY:

Would it make you anymore amusing?

BRANDON:

Whatever you say.

BETTY:

I didn't say anything.

BRANDON:

(standing up and

putting money on

the table)

I don't know you and you don't

know me. I made a reasonably polite

suggestion. But I'm sure you'd

rather be alone.

BETTY:

I hate to be alone. But I've heard

all the approaches there are...

even yours.

Brandon turns back, stares down at her coldly.

BRANDON:

Neatly said...but to the wrong

man. The trouble with pretty girls

is that they can't imagine anyone

thinking of anything else but the

fact they are pretty girls. I get

tired of it.

BETTY:

(directly)

Do you think I don't?

BRANDON:

(interested)

Thanks for the fresh air. That

felt good.

BETTY:

(standing up and

taking her bag)

You're sure Mr. Brandon won't mind?

BRANDON:

He doesn't even know half the people

who come up to drink his liquor.

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. ROYAL HOTEL - LOBBY/PENTHOUSE -- NIGHT

An elevator comes up. Brandon and Betty come out. There is

a sound of revelry behind the penthouse door, opposite the

elevators. They cross. Brandon opens the door casually,

without bothering to ring, users Betty in.

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

A big room, with French doors opening on a large terrace.

A few couples are dancing outside on the terrace and a few

more inside the room. There is a portable bar at one side

of the room and two WAITERS behind it. The dance music is

coming from a large Radio-Phonograph. Brandon and Betty

come in. Brandon shuts the door. There are eighteen or

twenty people around, with the usual alcoholic glitter in

their eyes and the usual strident voices and exaggerated

laughter.

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