The Snows of Kilimanjaro Page #5

You've got a few other things at home

I'd like to call my own.

I can't let you go, darling.

I can't let go of you.

[ Chuckles ]

Countess, there's no one like you.

- Climb up here on this boat.

- I can't , Harry!

- I've hardly anything on.

- Get up here.

Please, lover. Not out here.

[ Harry Narrating ]

I suppose it was the elusiveness of Liz...

which was her main attraction.

She was something to hunt down

and trap and capture.

The Countess Elizabeth--

"Frigid Liz. "

The semi-iceberg of the semi-tropics.

It was fun, son.

It was just lousy with fun.

It would be much more polite

if you'd say it, darling.

For once, I'm speechless.

At least say that you don't like it.

But I do-- immensely.

I admit that something

has me puzzled.

Would you mind

answering one question?

Not at all.

What's the question?

Well, why do you want her for this?

I admit she must be nice

to have around... for Harry.

Yes. I don't think I introduced you.

Beatrice, this is

my fianc's nice uncle, Mr. Swift.

Enchant, monsieur.

Beatrice? There's a fine lot

of divinity in that name.

- Dante, you know.

- Yes, darling, I know.

- Beatrice, are you divine?

- Oui, monsieur.

I'll just bet.

- Tell me, Uncle Bill-- Oh, may I call you Uncle Bill?

- By all means.

Are you planning

a long visit with Harry...

now that you are back from India?

I'm afraid not.

Are you?

I'm not visiting Harry.

Harry is visiting me.

Well, whichever, it must be wonderful

for both of you.

We think so.

As I look at her again,

another question crosses my mind.

As interesting as the last one?

When you and Harry get married...

how many children will you have?

Why don't you go ask him?

I may.

By the way, where is genius

shining at the moment?

- In his study.

- Probably doing something constructive.

I like it here.

I don't bother you?

Just continue.

Tell me.

Have you named her yet?

You have a suggestion?

Ceres-- the goddess of fertility.

- Madame?

- Oui?

- [ Speaking French ]

- Merci.

Excuse me.

Why don't you finish her

for me while I'm gone?

[ Laughing, Chattering ]

Oh, good. Come on in.

- Now I can stop.

- If you do, I'll go away again.

- [ Chuckles ]

-Just let me sit here, tidily in the corner.

- Fine view.

- It ought to be. Cost a pretty penny.

Did you see Liz?

Speaking of a pretty penny?

No,just speaking of Liz.

Marry her, my boy.

It's the surest cure.

- What do you mean by that one?

- Lover, may I come in?

You are everywhere,

aren't you, darling?

It's the only attribute

I share with the Almighty.

Angel, are you doing anything

that's stinkingly important?

Confidentially, Countess, it couldn't be

less important or more stinking.

What, silly?

I'm writing an interview with myself

on the subject of success.

- Hear! Hear!

- Your latest has sold another 1 00,000, it says here.

- Amazing.

- Hollywood wants it.

- They say they'll put Garbo in it.

- That should please you.

How did I get in the habit of becoming involved

with women who always open my mail?

You get such fascinating letters, darling.

Cosmopolitan wants another series

of short stories. And Smart Set too.

They pay the tops, it says.

[ Harry ]

Well, why should a writer feel guilty...

because people are willing to pay

good money for the sweat off his brow?

They shouldn't , my boy.

No one ever paid for a drop of mine--

except a few libraries and museums.

Which reminds me

to tell you--

- I've decided to settle down

and take over that museum.

- That's wonderful news.

- Does that mean we'll see you often, darling?

- When you're in Paris.

My bones will be on display amongst the other

antiquities every day except Thursday...

- [ Laughs ]

- on the Avenue President Wilson.

- Harry, dear boy.

- I'll walk out with you.

[ French ]

I'll find the door.

I imagine you're wanted in there.

Why the devil haven't you the grace

to tell me the truth?

- What truth?

- That you think my book stinks.

That everything I'm doing stinks.

I came to praise Caesar,

not to bury him.

Most men would envy you.

You make a handsome living.

You have the acquaintance of most

of the interesting people of the world.

All this and Liz too.

You're young. You have your health.

You look well.

Fairly well.

Come to see me soon, dear boy.

Oh, Harry.

Have you done any hunting lately?

- No. Why do you ask?

- Too bad.

A man should never

lose his hand at hunting.

[ Harry Narrating ]

I had it all, and what did I have?

My name in the papers,

my face in the better magazines.

- And where was Cynthia?

- [ Chattering ]

People asked for my autograph

and pointed me out.

Why didn't she come back to me?

At last, I made a cry for help--

getting her American address

from Emile.

[ Harry Thinking ]

And so, my darling Cynthia...

I've never been able

to kill the loneliness...

but only made it worse.

Everyone I've been with

has only made me miss you more.

And what you did can never matter.

I cannot cure myself of loving you.

Then one day outside the Ritz...

I followed a woman

whom I thought was you.

I follow any woman

who looks like you in some way...

afraid to see that it's not you...

afraid to lose

the feeling it gives me.

- Yes?

- Oh--

I beg your pardon.

I thought you were someone else--

Someone I know. I'm really sorry.

I didn't know you were--

A woman with a family?

They're my brother's children.

Now, why did I tell you that?

Aren't you Mr. Harry Street,

the writer?

That's right, I'm afraid.

I think I'm rather sorry

I'm not the right one.

- [ Harry ] Anything interesting?

- Routine.

A few interesting bills

for you to foot.

No, I mean that letter

you're trying to hide.

Darling!

- How are you? Poopie.

- Angel.

You came just at the right moment.

Now, let's see.

I don't think you've met

my fianc, Mr. Street.

Contessa-- [ Indistinct ]

How do you do?

As a patron of the arts--

Now sit down and let Charles

pour you a drink.

My devoted fianc and I are just

in the middle of a little something.

Who is this-- this Cynthia Green?

" Hotel Florinda, Madrid."

She must be a girl

named Cynthia Green.

Is she a fan of yours?

- Not the last I heard.

- From Madrid.

- My dear, devoted fianc has so many fans.

- And I am one of them.

Oh, I just devoured your last book.

I hope it didn't

give you a bellyache.

Is this letter so important, Harry?

No. No, it isn't important at all.

Good. Then you shan't

be troubled with it.

Excuse me.

Harry.

- What are you doing?

- What do you think I'm doing?

- I won't let you go.

- Ah.

- I won't let you make a fool of me.

- Ah.

You said it was not important.

- The whole thing is not important.

- Harry, listen to me.

Lover, darling,

stop and listen to me.

Please, Harry,

stop and listen to me.

" Please, Harry."

I'm listening.

- I know that sometimes I must draw your nerves.

- Ho.

- And sometimes you are on my nerves too.

- Ho, ho.

I know that sometimes--

sometimes I'm inadequate for you.

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