The Philadelphia Story Page #2

as intimate friends of Junius.

Dear old Junius.

This Tracy Lord,

does she know you?

You might say Miss Lord and I

grew up together.

You might also say

you were her first husband.

Yes, you might.

Holy mackerel.

What goes on here?

I remember your honeymoon very well,

you and she on a little sailboat.

- The True Love, wasn't it?

- How did you know?

I was the only photographer

whose camera you didn't smash.

You were terribly nice about it.

You threw it in the ocean.

One of those, huh?

Yes, I had the strange idea

our honeymoon was our own business.

Incidentally, he paid for the cameras.

I got a nice letter of apology too.

Always the gentleman, huh?

Except on occasion.

Now, what are the plans?

The wedding's Saturday.

Today is Thursday.

They should spend tomorrow night

as guests of the Lords.

There's somethin' screwy here.

If you've resigned, why are you

doin' all this unless you...

You wanna get even

with your ex-bride, huh?

I'll have a car pick them up

at noon tomorrow in north Philadelphia.

Mike, there's spit in your eye.

It shows.

Maybe they'd rather we go around

to the servants' entrance.

Maybe this is

the servants' entrance.

- Good morning, Edward.

- Why, Mr. Haven!

Is Mrs. Haven... I mean,

Miss Tracy or her mother in?

They may be at the swimming pool, sir.

Shall I announce you?

No. I'll go around myself

and surprise them.

It will indeed

be a surprise, sir.

These are friends of Mr. Junius's.

Have them wait in the south parlor.

Certainly, Mr. Haven.

Excuse me, sir.

The south parlor?

Miss lmbrie, the south parlor.

The queen will have bread and honey

at the usual time.

Seems a little cold

for the south parlor.

I'd rather expected to find

pickaninnies and banjos.

What's this room?

I forgot my compass.

This would be south-southwest

parlor by living room.

Knickknacks, gimcracks,

signed photographs.

You'd have to be as rich as the Lords

to live in a dump like this.

- I wouldn't live in it if they paid me.

- They won't.

Looks like they run

a hockshop on the side.

Just lookin' around.

I'll want your fingerprints for this.

Hey, what's this...

What's this guy Haven up to?

C.K. Dexter Haven.

What kind of a name is that?

C.K. Dexter Haven.

Macaulay Connor's

no homespun tag, my pet.

Yeah, you just try

callin' me Macaulay.

I knew a plain Joe Smith once.

He was only a clerk in a hardware store,

but he was an absolute rat.

C.K. Dexter Haven.

He plays polo, he designs

sailboats, "class" boats.

- Very upper class.

- Don't despair.

He's out. Kittredge,

man of the people, is in.

Quite a comer too, I understand.

Political timber.

Poor guy. I wonder

how he fell for it.

Uh-oh, Liz. What did I tell you?

How do you like this?

"Living room, sitting room,

terrace, pool, stables."

That's so they can talk to the horses

without having them in the house.

Don't, Mike!

Yes?

This is the bridal suite.

Send up some caviar sandwiches

and a bottle of beer.

What? Who is this?

This is the voice of doom calling.

Your days are numbered,

to the seventh son of the seventh son!

- Hello? Hello?

- What's the matter?

One of the servants

has been at the sherry again.

- Dexter, you've come back!

- Ah, Dinah, my dream girl!

What in the name of...

No, it can't be. He went to

South America for two years.

Edward said they were

at the swimming pool.

They seem to be here.

Dexter, don't you know

that tomorrow is the wedding?

Oh, that's right.

So it is.

You can go right back

where you came from!

Can't. Dinah says it's

awful here without me.

Hello, you sweet thing.

Red, you look in the pink.

You don't think I'd miss

your wedding, do you?

- Dexter, you wouldn't.

- I'm not so sure he wouldn't.

No, Mother Lord, I wouldn't.

I assure you I wouldn't.

- Tell us all about Junius.

- Stay 'til lunch.

Don't open your house. Stay here.

We're having no guests over the wedding.

- How about the groom?

- He's staying at the gatehouse.

Oh, that's good.

- Junius is fine.

- He should be here.

He's heartbroken. I suggested

representing him as best man...

I'm afraid that George might prefer

to have his best man sober.

I wish you'd represent George.

That's my loyal little girl.

You'll like the people Junius did send.

You haven't switched from liquor

to dope, by any chance?

- You see?

- The people Junius did send?

You don't know a Macaulay Connor

or Elizabeth lmbrie, do you?

- We can finish these later.

- I'd better introduce you.

Call me for...

Introduce me to whom?

To Miss lmbrie and Mr. Connor,

to tell them which rooms they'd have.

Mr. Connor is asking if he should wear

a black or white tie to tonight's party.

- Rooms?

- I'd better start from the beginning.

Sit down, dear.

They're great friends of Junius's.

And they expect to stay here?

I think that's very queer.

I think it's queerer than that.

I think it's paranoiac.

You see, it was Junius's idea.

They've been very kind to him, and...

You're lying, Dexter.

I can always tell.

- Can you, Red?

- They're Junius's friends.

You went to work after

the divorce, didn't you?

Yes, except for a brief interlude

in some alcoholic sanitariums.

You took a job

in South America. Who for?

- A magazine.

- It wasn't Spy magazine?

You are a mass of intuition.

I don't suppose that Junius's

friends are photographers?

- I thought you were low, but I never...

- What are you going to do?

- After I've telephoned Junius...

- Wait, Red.

Don't telephone Junius.

I'll confess.

No. You're slipping, Red.

I used to be afraid of that look,

the withering glance of the goddess.

I didn't think that alcohol would...

Oh, shut up.

Dinah, stay here.

Please, Mother.

Maybe he's going to sock her.

Don't say "sock," darling.

"Strike" is quite an ugly enough word.

Who do they think they are,

barging in on peaceful people?

- They'll think you don't want them.

- I want them out, and you too!

Yes, your majesty. But first could I

interest you in some small blackmail?

It's an article, complete with

snapshots, details and insinuations...

and it's ready for

publication in Spy...

and it's about your father

and that dancer in New York.

About Father and Tina Mara?

Quiet. Dinah.

But they can't,

even if it's true.

- Where do you get these?

- From Sidney Kidd, editor and publisher.

- He's got to be stopped.

- He is, temporarily.

That is, if you'll allow those two

to turn in the story on your wedding.

And when Kidd says a story,

he means a story.

- I'm gonna be sick.

- Yes, dear.

"An Intimate Day

With a Society Bride."

I am sick.

It's tough, but that's

the way it seems to be.

So I'm to be examined, undressed

and generally humiliated...

at 15 cents a copy.

And you, you...

You're loving it.

Am I, Red?

Mother, we're hooked.

- Are they really reporters?

- Not even friends of Junius's?

They aren't anybody's friends,

but we're to pretend they are.

- But why?

- Don't ask me.

There's a good reason,

and it's my wedding, so please!

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