Theodora Goes Wild Page #2

but I had to sit and listen to it read out loud,

and I give you my word,

you have no idea

how indecent the stuff sounded.

-Well, shall we make it two aspirins?

-No. Really.

I suddenly realized I was a writer

of wide reputation and most of it bad.

I could see Lynnfield finding out the truth.

Aunt Mary and Aunt Elsie dying of shame.

The name of Lynn disgraced forever and...

-Your aspirin.

-Thank you. It won't help.

Here.

Now will you please sit down

and stop worrying and let me talk to you?

Mr. Stevenson, do you have to advertise

Caroline Adams in letters that size?

Couldn't you make them just a little bit...

That's what makes the size

of your bank account.

Would you like to have a look

at your balance?

Well, it couldn't possibly interest me.

I can't use any of it

without telling where I got it.

Will you please stop worrying?

Now, the identity of Caroline Adams

will never be known.

Miss Baldwin and I will carry the secret

to our graves.

Now, that ought to take care of everything,

oughtn't it?

Everything except my own conscience.

My dear Miss Adams, don't tell me you care

what the Lynnfield Literary Circle thinks?

I can't help it. I'm part of it.

I'm part of everything in Lynnfield.

Were you raised in a small town

by two maiden aunts? No!

Have you taught Sunday school

for the past 10 years? No!

Have you played the organ in church

since you were 15? No! Well, I have.

And right now, I ask myself,

where did Caroline Adams come from?

How did all this start?

You walked in here one day

with a very promising manuscript.

Yes, I thought it was just romantic.

I must have been out of my mind.

What? To write a book

that's sweeping the country?

But not a clean sweep.

Heaven forbid.

What's this?

The first chapter of the new book?

No.

Come on, now. What's in that package?

-Cookies.

-Cookies?

Rebecca made them. You know Rebecca.

She loves to write telegrams.

"Fewer and stronger words,"

she always says.

-Will you have one?

-No, no, no, no.

-Well, they're awfully good.

-No.

The soft ginger kind with no crumbs.

No, no, no. Now, where's that chapter?

It just won't write, Mr. Stevenson.

I've tried, honest I have.

I still stuff rags under my door at night

in case my aunts are prowling around.

But it's no use. I'm too upset.

The way I feel now, I'll never write again.

Now look here. Sooner or later you've

got to be sensible and take my advice.

Have it out with Lynnfield.

Tell them all about it. Come to New York.

Get yourself an apartment

and write me six more books.

-Bye-bye, Mr. Stevenson.

-Now wait a minute,

we've got some business to discuss.

-Not today. I'm not in the mood.

-All right, all right.

But there's one thing more,

and this is very important.

I promised my wife the first time

you came in, she could see you.

-You what?

-Well, I simply had to.

-I thought we said nobody.

-Well, you see, it's this way.

Now, she's a rabid fan of yours.

She just wants to look at you.

First it's a look. Then it's questions.

Then anything could happen.

No, no, no.

I swear she'll know nothing about you.

Now look, she's been making life

miserable for me,

-and you don't know Ethel.

-I'm sorry.

Hello.

-Well, I'd never believe it.

-This is Ethel.

I heard you.

Don't tell me you're Caroline Adams?

Well, I've been dying to meet you.

Who's this?

Get out of here, Michael, and shut that door.

You see, first it's one person, then it's two.

One thing about Michael,

he only goes where he's not invited.

-What do you want?

-So you're Caroline Adams?

Say, you ought to meet me.

I'm the man that did the cover for your book

and that glorious woman on the poster.

Well, she may be glorious,

but she's certainly underdressed.

Well, that's the way

I found her in your book, lady.

Say, are you sure you're Caroline Adams?

What do you mean, is she sure

she's Caroline Adams?

Well, I don't know. Caroline Adams ought to

look as though she'd lived.

Forgive me, perhaps you've got

a terrific constitution and it doesn't show.

All right, that's enough, Michael.

Now, either get out or go sit down.

I'll go sit down.

Well, there is a certain bloom of innocence

in your face that surprised me, too.

What did you expect to see,

the tattooed woman?

Don't be silly, lamb.

You know, I can't get a word

out of Arthur about you.

And I'm just dying to know things.

-Miss Adams has to go, pet.

-Yes, Uncle John's waiting for me.

-Whose Uncle John?

-Her Uncle John.

-Yes, my uncle.

-I see. You've an uncle.

Well, what about later?

Why not take dinner with us?

No, thank you. I couldn't.

You see, I have to catch the first train

back to... Back home.

-Where's that?

-Out west. Way out west on the range.

Come now,

there are trains leaving all night long

for way out west on the range.

You must take dinner with us, dear.

We'll meet you here at 6:00.

Well, I couldn't.

I didn't bring a change of clothes.

That's all right, we won't dress.

Arthur, make her stay.

Well, that's that, Miss Adams.

But we'll put you

on the earliest possible train after dinner.

-May I come to dinner, too?

-No.

All right, but I'll have to run now.

Goodbye, dear. Don't forget, 6:00.

My cookies.

I'm sorry, they're very good.

A total of $3,296.33.

Well, there's your aunts' income

for the quarter.

Any special instructions

from those two plaster saints?

No. Just the usual check for $300,

Uncle John.

-And put the rest away.

-Such virtue.

Tell me, dear, when are you coming to stay

with me for a couple of days

-and let me show you the town?

-Sometime soon. Not today, though.

That means never.

Still don't approve of me, do you?

No. Think I'm wicked.

Believe everything those two charming

sisters of mine tell you about me, don't you?

Confidentially, Uncle John,

are you really wicked?

Confidentially, honey,

I'm just a little short of terrific. Here.

There's the evidence.

My gallery of playmates.

Put them all together and you have

one of the most delightful careers that

a man has ever carved out for himself.

Now, meet Annabelle, 1896,

right down to and including Margie, 1936.

Shocked to death, aren't you?

That pained expression of yours

is just like Mary's.

They're making a fine job of you, all right.

Listen, baby.

Anyone ever call you baby?

-No.

-Pity.

And they never will in Lynnfield.

Theodora.

Adelaide.

-How are you, darling?

-I'm fine.

-Mother isn't worried or suspicious?

-No, not a bit.

She thinks you're working for Mrs. Jamison

and that you're so happy.

-Have you heard from Roger?

-No.

You still don't want to tell him?

If his mother has frightened him

away from me,

I don't want to bring him back

because of this.

Of course, at the same time,

I can't let you and Uncle John

go on keeping me.

Who said so? Why, I wouldn't let you go.

Why, young chickens like you

are a tonic to me.

Do you see? Run along now,

take off your coat and we'll have some tea.

By the way, your mother sent

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