The House on Telegraph Hill Page #3

in Belsen came back to me.

Whether it was

my own conscience...

or meeting with little Chris...

or something in the house itself,

I couldn't tell.

I had a strange feeling

that Aunt Sophie saw through me.

I wondered-

if I could have spoken to her-

whether she would have

understood.

She did look kind and wise.

Yet, I couldn't rid myself of the feeling

that something was wrong in this house.

Karin, what are you doing down here?

Well, I-I couldn't sleep.

I just came down to see

Aunt Sophie's picture.

It's kind of a strange hour to be prowling

around the house looking at pictures.

I'm not prowling, Alan.

I'm sorry, but you seemed so tired.

And you?

You haven't been to bed at all yet.

I came down to look over

my mail. I wanted to see if

there's anything important.

Margaret heard me coming down.

She brought me a sandwich

and a glass of milk.

Oh. Margaret has been

in the house a long time, hasn't she?

Ever since Chris was

brought here from Europe.

He needed someone to

look after him.

She's been very faithful.

You know, one thing

about Aunt Sophie.

She knew people inside out.

She picked her out of 50 applicants

to take care of Chris.

Margaret has...

many unusual qualities.

I believe you.

I also think

she's a very unusual woman.

Are you going

to be much longer?

No, just a little while.

You better run along to bed.

- Good night.

- Good night.

- Hi!

- Hi!

- It's late. You always sleep so late?

- I was very tired last night.

I've been waitin' for you since 7:00.

Oh, you shouldn't have done that.

Oh, it's all right. I'm always up early.

Comin' down soon?

Well, it will take me

a while to get dressed.

Okay. Hurry up.

Hey, good catch.

You're learnin' fast, Mom.

What's the matter?

Hurt your hand?

No, darling.

It didn't hurt at all.

That's good.

Come on! Throw the ball!

Chris.

You've missed not having

your mother very much, haven't you?

Sure. I guess so.

But you were so little

when you were brought here...

you couldn't possibly

remember her.

Well, Aunt Sophie

always talked about you a lot...

and cried for a long time

when they told her you had died.

And you?

Did you cry too?

I-I don't remember.

It made me feel kind of funny.

But, anyway, it isn't true.

- Come on! Pitch!

- Pitch?

- You know, throw it.

- Oh.

Oop! Oh! I am so clumsy.

Don't worry. You'll learn, Mom.

Hey! Good one! Yippee!

To the lady of the house,

past and present.

May your days in this house

be as rich and rewarding as hers.

Thank you, Doctor.

Great character.

Don't make 'em like that anymore.

Nobody knows that any better than I do.

She was a wonderful, wonderful woman.

She had a wonderful

sense of humor.

In fact, she'd laugh her head off if she

could see this little votive group...

gathered under her portrait,

drinking her vintage wine...

growing mawkish over her memory.

- Hello, Alan. Dr. Burkhardt.

- Marc.

- Mr. Whitmore.

- Hello, Marc.

- Mrs. Whitmore. You look lovely tonight.

- Thank you, Marc.

There's a rumor around town

that you've gotten married.

Comes with a great wailing and gnashing

of teeth from the direction of Nob Hill.

Darling, may I present

Marc Bennett.

He's an old friend. We've known

each other since grammar school.

- My wife.

- Mrs. Spender.

Is something on your mind, old boy?

Frankly, yes.

I, uh- How far behind am I?

Oh, I'd say you had

a pretty good head start.

I seem to have

run down suddenly.

- How about a nice, friendly push?

- Sure.

- Champagne all right?

- Whiskey with a little water,

if you don't mind.

- But don't drown it.

- That would be a catastrophe, huh?

Fix it for you myself.

You don't remember me, do you?

You're making things

tougher for me by the minute.

- That accent- is it Polish?

- Uh-huh.

And what red-letter day did I meet

a beautiful Polish lady?

On the most important day

in her life, Major.

Germany.

The camp at Belsen. Of course.

But you've changed quite a bit.

No wonder I didn't recognize you.

I've often wondered

what had become of you.

I don't believe you remember

anything about me at all.

Oh, but I do.

I-I even remember your name.

It's Victoria.

Victoria Der-

Dernakova, Major.

And it's Karin, not Victoria.

Karin.

K-A-R-I-N?

- Mm-hmm.

- Here we are.

Thank you.

- Dinner is served.

- Thank you, Cai.

May I claim the right

as an old friend of the household?

Looks like you have already.

Be a shame to wake him,

even for ice cream.

- Faker! A favor for a favor.

- Thanks!

Oh, don't you like it?

Oh, sure. But, Margaret-

- Yes?

- Well, she usually doesn't

let me eat after dinner.

Oh, but this is

a special occasion, isn't it?

- Oh, sure.

- And maybe we just

won't tell Margaret, huh?

She'll find out.

Is something wrong, Mrs. Spender?

Nothing at all, Margaret.

I just brought Chris a dish of ice cream.

Chris doesn't usually eat

just before going to bed.

Well, I just thought with everybody

having fun downstairs that-

Of course, if you prefer him

not to have it, I-

Why, not at all.

It's up to Chris.

What do you think, Chris?

I can put it in the icebox

for lunch tomorrow.

Okay.

We find it better to let Chris

make his own decisions.

I see.

It will taste better

at lunch, Chris.

- Good night, dear.

- Good night.

I am sorry, Margaret.

I didn't realize-

Oh, it was my fault, Mrs. Spender.

I should have told you.

But Chris has always been

a very impulsive child.

I found the best way to handle him

is to let him discipline himself.

- Good night, Margaret.

- Good night, Mrs. Spender.

Five pounds.

Nice avocado today. Zucchini.

- I recommend the zucchini.

- Major.

With a touch of garlic and mozzarella,

there's nothing like it.

All right, get the lady

a couple of pounds.

- The real stuff, now, from the basement.

- S, signore. The best.

Small world, isn't it? Germany,

Telegraph Hill, and the New Union Grocery.

You do your marketing here too, Major?

Only since I found

it's where you do yours.

Besides, we didn't have a chance

to finish our talk the other evening.

Well, it isn't pleasant for me to talk

about things that happened in the camp.

I'd like to forget about them.

That's, uh-That's not what I wanted

to talk to you about.

I was telling my cook

about that chicken dish I had

at your house the other night.

She can't swing it without the recipe.

Don't laugh. I'm a San Franciscan.

Eating's serious business with me.

I thought the law

was your business, Major.

Technically, it is. You see, my father's

death put me in a curious situation.

According to the sign on the door,

I'm the senior member of the firm.

But most of our clients seem to wanna

do business with the junior members.

One of 'em's 65, the other's 62.

So that leaves me twiddling my thumbs

and cleaning out ashtrays.

- And finding new recipes for your cook.

- Exactly.

If I give you the recipe...

will you tell me something too?

Blackmail, huh?

You and Alan

do not like each other. Why?

Where did you ever

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