Without Love Page #7

That's where Edwina Collins' place is.

Virginia in April.

Edwina Collins in any month.

Is that engagement on again?

Of course not. I just happened

to run into her, that's all.

She just happened

to ask you down, huh?

Yeah, me and lots of others.

There's Sandy Burnham, Paul Carrell.

Oh, is he down here too?

I thought I heard wolves howling

last night.

Oh, me a wolf?

You a dyed rabbit.

Oh, yeah? Well, how long

since you've been kissed, my sweet?

Well, let's see, what's today? Saturday?

Since night before last, I guess.

- Who by?

- An unidentified target.

Somebody in uniform.

Well, it wasn't a WAC.

Nice going.

Say, where are the married folk?

Oh, out there working as usual,

and not to be disturbed.

How are things going?

Any patter of tiny feet?

I haven't been listening.

Paul said a very, very funny thing

to me about them this morning.

He wondered if I had noticed anything.

Such as her wearing his white violets

the last couple times they had lunch?

No, no, no, he wondered if

I had noticed the absence of anything.

The absence of what?

Oh, well, it's a little difficult

to put into words.

Well, maybe you can act it out.

Now, that's a very good idea.

Supposing that I'm Pat

and you're Jamie, see?

- All right.

- Well, you don't look like Jamie.

Here. Just tilt your head back a little.

There, that's better.

Now, Paul says he never remembers

seeing them do this.

He does, huh?

And not only that, but this.

Did you notice it too?

Well, I'm beginning to.

Maybe... Maybe we can rehearse

some more.

The second act.

Curtain.

Oh, hello, Jamie,

I hope I don't interrupt your work.

I hope I don't interrupt yours.

This isn't work.

- You said it, Dobbin.

- Her name isn't Dobbin.

- Maybe she wants a drink.

- Who doesn't?

There's a pail in the barn.

I'll see what we've got.

What'll it be?

Rum Collins, Tom Collins...?

Edwina Collins?

Why, Kitty Trimble,

aren't you ashamed?

Don't you try to make me feel guilty.

Kitty, I wouldn't dream of it,

it looks such fun.

It often is.

Often?

Does it really happen to you often?

Well, not anymore so

than is good for me.

It just never does to me.

- Well, I should hope not.

- Why?

- Because you're different.

- How?

From me?

Well, you're a person of some stature.

Stature? You mean tall?

- I'm not so tall.

- I mean tall in soul.

In addition to which, you're married.

In addition to which,

I'm from New England.

- So you see?

- Oh, dear.

You don't seriously mean you'd like

to have passes made at you?

No, no. I'd just like to feel

that someone might want to.

Of course, there was that Brazilian

that tried to hold hands...

...under the table.

But I expect he was just being

good neighborly.

Oh, sure, like Paul Carrell.

Now there's real nice neighbor for you.

Paul doesn't think of me that way.

He doesn't think of anything

any other way.

I'll get it, Anna.

Hello?

Yes.

Yes, he'll be here tonight.

Well, what time

will Colonel Braden telephone?

Yes, yes, thank you.

- By gum.

- Good news?

Maybe. By gum.

Hey! Washington called.

- Who was it, the colonel?

- His office. He's gonna call you later.

Oh, just teasing us?

I suppose that's the colonel's privilege.

- Who was your visitor?

- Quent.

Quent? That's good. He brings me luck.

- What luck?

- You.

Why, Mr. Jamieson.

Whatever are you saying?

Yes, sir, it was a lucky night for me

the night you proposed marriage to me.

I proposed to you?

A lady doesn't do a thing like that.

That's no lady. That's my partner.

The concern of Jamieson and Jamieson

is quite a going one, wouldn't you say?

The formula's perfect, Pat.

You've made me over

into something useful and alive.

I never felt it so much as today.

Nonsense. No one ever made you over

into anything.

You're your own special creation.

You always will be.

- Only...

- Only?

Only, I wonder if you don't miss love

more than you admit.

No, I don't. How about you?

Who runs from the telephone every

time it might be Lila Vine's in town?

Listen, you never catch me

running away from anything.

My mind is busy with other things

to think about anything like that.

Get that through your head.

And you be sure, Mr. Pat, that my

head's all I've got to get it through.

And that it's through that already.

- Then why, for the love of...?

- Love of what, Pat?

What love have we two anything

to do with?

- Washington.

- Jiggers. I hope so.

Yes?

Yeah. Yeah. Tell him I'll be right there.

I forgot. I told Paul Carrell

I'd go riding with him.

- Do you need me anymore?

- No, no.

Tomorrow, you'll learn to ride a horse,

deal?

Tomorrow.

It's nice, isn't it?

Perfect.

This is the first time

I've been in Virginia in April.

April, April, with her girlish laughter

That's a poem.

April is the cruelest month

- That's another poem.

- What's the rest of it?

April is the cruelest month

Breeding lilacs out of the dead land

Mixing memory and desire

Mixing memory and desire.

Who wrote that?

T.S. Eliot. The Waste Land.

What comes

after mixing memory and desire?

Stirring dull roots with spring rain

I was a dull root.

Now you're stirring.

Mixing memory and desire

Tell me something. Why haven't

you ever asked me about Lila Vine?

You knew that I knew her.

Possibly because I wasn't interested.

Most unusual, unless...

Unless what?

Never in my life

will I understand American marriages.

Will you have lunch in town with me

next week, the usual place?

If I'm in town.

Would you prefer that I ask Pat

this time?

- What's funny?

- You, and your primness.

I'm glad you can laugh.

Well, I do lots. Why shouldn't I?

Because all at once, I think

I understand a very curious fact...

...of a lovely girl

who doesn't love her husband.

Who doesn't love...?

Well, what are you talking about?

And who doubtless never has,

nor he you, possibly.

Amidst all this plenty, starvation.

- I never heard such...

- Never angry at him.

Never malicious. The perfect marriage.

And now your calm, dispassionate

lack of interest in a girl...

...he was in love with,

possibly still is.

- Possibly?

- Now that proves it. You don't love him.

Well, suppose Pat and I

happen to believe...

...that two people can help each other

more if they aren't in love.

Very perverse. Very interesting though.

If we aren't happier than any number

of people who married for love...

- I'll tell you it works.

- Sweet girl.

- And if it does, what's the difference?

- None, except to me.

- We'll talk about it in town.

- Well, I don't think we will.

My primness, did you say?

Well, how foolish of me.

We'll talk about it in town.

That's the last time

you'll do that though.

If you prefer.

I prefer.

What you said just now

about Pat and me, it isn't true.

We're very much in love in every way.

I've already forgotten

that the subject came up.

Pat, hey!

Pat.

- Where is Mr. Jamieson?

- He's gone back to Washington.

To Washington?

- Where's Miss Kitty?

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