Spellbound Page #6

in my hair's enough.

- What are you gonna tell him?

- That we are on our honeymoon.

Doctor, you think of

the most wonderful prescriptions.

- Good evening. Is Dr. Brulov in?

- No, he went out right after dinner.

He ought to be back soon.

Would you mind telling him

I've left his supper on the table?

I'm sorry, but I can't wait any longer.

There are two gentlemen

waiting for him in there.

- How do you do?

- How do you do?

How's your mother been lately?

She's still complaining

about rheumatism.

She figures I ought to get transferred

down to Florida.

I said, "Do you expect me to sacrifice

all chance of promotion

"just because you've got rheumatism?"

Did you take the subject up

with Hennessy?

Yeah. He said a transfer

could be arranged,

but I'd probably have to start

all over again as a sergeant.

I said, "Personally,

I think that's unfair.

"After all the work I did

on that narcotics case. "

What did Hennessy say to that?

A lot of things. He made some crack

about me being a mama's boy.

Pardon me. That may be for me.

I gave headquarters this number.

Hello.

Yes. This is Lieutenant Cooley.

Any new developments?

When did you find that out?

No. Right. I'll be down later. Goodbye.

Alex.

Who is it, please?

My old friend!

- Alex.

- My dear darling.

I didn't have time to let you know.

I just arrived.

Imagine I find you here.

I would have come home quicker.

I was giving a lecture

at the Army Hospital.

- Are these gentlemen with you?

- No. I'm here with...

Dr. Brulov, I'm Lieutenant Cooley

of Central Station.

- This is Sergeant Gillespie.

- What for?

We thought you might give us some data

on Dr. Edwardes.

Data?

What is this kind of persecution?

I told the policeman yesterday

I know nothing about Edwardes.

But yesterday,

you had some kind of theory.

I explained to the policeman

that if Edwardes took along with him

on a vacation

a paranoid patient,

he was a bigger fool

than I ever knew he was.

It is the same as

playing with a loaded gun.

Do you think this patient

might have killed him?

I'm not thinking anything.

I'm not a bloodhound.

Was Dr. Edwardes

a great friend of yours?

What are you talking about?

The man was impossible.

You had a quarrel with him when you were

back in New York, I understand.

Not New York.

In Boston at the psychiatry convention.

What kind of an analyst is it

who wants to cure psychosis

by taking people skating

or to a bowling alley?

I understand

you threatened to punch his nose.

All I did was get up and walk out,

and kick over a few chairs

which nobody was sitting in.

So you don't have to ask me

any more questions.

You have now the facts.

Well, thank you very much.

I'm sorry to have bothered you.

If anything turns up,

we'll let you know. Goodbye, ma'am.

- Good night, sir.

- Good night.

What do you suppose

they are snooping around me for?

Next they will give me the third degree.

Alex, I'm so glad to see you.

I was going to write to you

but it happened so suddenly.

I got married.

Who is married?

Why, Alex, my husband, John Brown.

- I'm glad to meet you officially.

- So you are married.

There is nothing so nice

as a new marriage.

No psychoses yet, no aggressions,

no guilt complexes.

I congratulate you

and wish you have babies

and not phobias.

How about we have a glass of beer

like in the old days?

The truth is that we have no hotel room.

All the hotels were so crowded.

What do you want with a hotel?

That's for millionaires,

not for lovebirds on a honeymoon.

You will stay right here.

Look how I'm living by myself

with a can opener.

My housekeeper has gone to war,

my secretary is a WAC.

And I've got a cleaning woman

who can't cook and who hates me.

Cook me my coffee in the morning,

and the house is yours.

- That's wonderful of you, Alex.

- There's nothing wonderful about me.

It's nice to see my old assistant.

The youngest,

but the best one I ever had.

But who knows now.

As my old friend Zannenbaum used to say,

"Women make the best psychoanalysts,

"till they fall in love.

"After that,

they make the best patients. "

Good night and happy dreams,

which we will analyze at breakfast.

Good night, Dr. Brulov.

Thanks for everything.

Any husband of Constance

is a husband of mine, so to speak.

- Good night, Alex.

- Good night.

- You were superb with the police.

- Was I?

Carried it off

like a grade-A gun monger.

I felt terribly stupid for a few minutes

but it turned out very well.

Providing the professor isn't wiser

than he seems.

Alex? No.

Things are different here.

Someone's been here since my time.

Alex didn't think anything. He's sweet.

He may be sweet, but he didn't even

ask us where our bags were.

Alex is always like that,

in a complete dream state socially.

Do you know,

this room does look changed,

but it isn't.

It's I who have changed.

It's called transfer of affects.

What is?

The fact that everything seems

so wonderful in this room.

That's what it's called, is it?

Did the police disturb you?

No. One ignores such trifles

on a honeymoon.

- I take it this is your first honeymoon?

- Yes.

I mean, it would be if it were.

For what it's worth, I can't remember

ever having kissed any other woman.

I have nothing to remember

of that nature, either.

You're very sweet.

- Of course I'm no child.

- Far from it.

I'm well aware that we're all

bundles of inhibitions.

Dynamite dumps!

No.

- Please don't do that.

- Why not?

It isn't ethical.

I'm here as your doctor.

Well, you can stop worrying, Doctor.

I'm going to sleep on the couch.

No, that's also unethical.

Now, this honeymoon is

complicated enough

without your dragging

medical ethics into it.

- I suppose the floor is out?

- The patient always sleeps in the bed.

The doctor occupies the couch,

fully dressed.

I see you know the rules.

You remember something.

No.

This room reminds you of something.

No.

You're resisting a memory.

What is in your mind?

- I don't know.

- Yes, you do! You're resisting it.

Don't start that again.

Don't stand there with that wiseacre

look. I'm sick of your double talk.

You were looking at the bed.

What frightens you?

White lines.

When I made fork marks

on the tablecloth, they agitated you.

The night you kissed me,

you pushed me away because of my robe.

It was white, it had dark lines on it.

Try to think. Why does the color white

frighten you? Why do lines frighten you?

- Think of white. White.

- It frightens me. I can't look.

Don't turn away. Stand still. Look at

the white spread. Look at it, remember!

Darling.

Oh, darling.

You mustn't be frightened.

You mustn't. We are making progress.

We have the word "white" on our side.

Is that you, Mr. Brown?

Oh, I thought it was you.

I was unable to sleep,

so I came down to work.

When you are old,

you don't need to sleep so much.

I'm just having a glass of milk

and some crackers.

Join me, please.

I'll get another glass.

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