Without Love Page #9

This is my dance,

I believe, Mr. Jamieson.

You are listening to dance music

from the Cleopatra Roof.

I'll open the other bottle of wine.

Come on, it's your turn.

Flat.

It's very flat.

Yes.

Too bad. Dizzy, get off that couch.

I said, get off the couch.

Dizzy, get off the couch.

Thank you.

I'm sorry I spoke so crossly.

Here, maybe I can fix that.

Thank you.

Why don't you marry her?

She's getting a divorce.

Why don't you go

to Washington and see her?

Why don't you send for her?

- I came here to do a job.

- But you do wanna see her.

Then for pity's sake, why don't you

and get it over with?

You're free. Send for her.

I'm sorry, Pat.

So am I.

Get down, Diz.

Do you realize you're objecting not to

my seeing too much of a girl...

...but to my wish not to see her at all?

- That's much worse.

- How do you figure?

If you're afraid to see her,

it must mean you still love her.

- You're not making any sense.

- I am and you know it.

Why in heaven's name

can't you understand...?

I'm going for a walk.

I won't be here when you get back.

That's up to you.

Well, my boy, this is the big day.

Now, let me see.

Pulse, respiration, blood pressure.

It's too bad Mrs. Uptake Outtake

won't be here to witness your triumph.

Yeah.

Well, say, tell me honestly, Patrick,

would you care to postpone this test?

- Why?

- Maybe until your wife returns?

She's not returning. Let's go.

So...

Well, Patrick, you are about to try out...

...your Jamieson superduper

oxygen mask...

...under actual flying conditions.

I hope it works as well up in the air

as it did down in the cellar.

All right. There you are.

Now put this on.

Like that.

Now, Patrick, keep those lights parallel.

If they become unsteady,

I'll know you are in trouble.

Okay? Good luck to you.

Now, boys, canopy.

Better start the oxygen now,

Mr. Jamieson.

- What's the altitude?

- Altitude, 9000. Temperature, 61 above.

Wiggle the stick, Patrick.

Hold her steady now.

- Altitude, 29,000.

- Up you go, Patrick.

Altitude, 29,000.

Temperature, 21 below.

Twenty-one at 29.

- Everything okay, Thompson?

- Yes, sir.

Pulse, 67.

Respiration, 11.

Blood pressure, 129 over 83.

Nothing wrong yet, doctor.

RPM, 41.

Altitude, 41,000.

Temperature, 61 below.

Peripheral vision slightly off at 45,000.

Blood pressure, 113 over 70.

Respiration down to seven.

- How's the pulse?

- Eighty-five.

Good.

Pulse up to 92.

Fifty thousand.

He's done it. He's done it.

- Altitude, 52,800.

- Ten miles.

That's 7000 feet higher

than we hoped for.

Respiration down to six.

Pulse up to 101.

Bring him down

the minute he blacks out.

Jamie.

Jamie.

We made it.

Dizzy, come here. Come here.

Come here, Dizzy.

Now, you be quiet. Come here.

Quiet.

Hi, you, Dizzy.

What are you doing home?

Well, it's about time.

Did you get my wire?

- Should I have?

- Yes, frankly.

You haven't seen the body of Quentin

Ladd around anywhere, have you?

- What's all that?

- Well, that's a surprise for Jamie.

Oh, well, the surprise is on you.

I just left Jamie in the arms

of Paul Carrell.

What are you talking about?

A dance, Einstein.

Nothing more yet, I hope.

Good old Paul.

He gets around, doesn't he?

Say, what happened in Chicago?

Since Jamie came back...

...she's been giving a good imitation

of a powder keg.

Well, Paul left his matches behind.

Well, he also carries a lighter

and it works.

He's no amateur bombardier, mister.

Kitty, had personal experiences

along those lines?

Oh, just once-over lightly.

He thinks he's on the target now, huh?

Do you know what I think about men?

I think they're the most stupid,

the most ignorant, the most conceited...

...present company included, of course.

- Present company included.

- And Quent's right up there with you.

He hasn't called me in three days.

I don't even know where he is.

I saw his beloved Edwina

at the party tonight though.

What a gang.

All the evening's entertainment

needs is a playgirl...

...from Chicago I met yesterday

named Lila Vine.

- Where?

- Oh, one of those cocktail things.

Say, she really takes over a party,

that Lila and her piano.

And her cute little curls

and that long cigarette holder.

Did you ever see that?

It's so long she can smoke

in two rooms at the same time.

- I take it you didn't like her.

- Oh, I loved her.

So did Jamie.

- Was Jamie there?

- With Mr. Carrell.

Lila sang her some

of your favorite French songs.

Where'd you say Jamie was now?

At the Whitestone,

Maggie Lorrington's apartment.

- Do I have to dress?

- You're going? That's more like it.

If Quentin's there, you can tell him

for me that I'm through with him.

He's like smoking.

It's easier to cut it out all together.

On second thought, I think

I'll go with you and tell him myself.

Let's get out of here.

What's the occasion?

British or Russian,

one of them things, you know.

Thank you.

Hi, Contacts.

Well, what do you think? They took me.

- My boy, I'm proud of you.

- Thank you.

Well, what's the matter?

Don't you wanna win the war?

Oh, terribly sorry.

- If you don't mind.

- Oh, not at all. Not at all, sir.

- Not at all. Go right in.

- Thank you.

Oh, they're splendid chaps.

High-ho and a bottle of rum.

Oh, come on, I'm thirsty.

I have something to say to you.

Sailor, beware. Breakers ahead.

Telegram for Mrs. Jamieson.

Maybe she's gone home.

Well, here we are, folks.

Hot, fresh, barbequed bourbon.

Do nobody any good.

Well, it's the kind of good

I like done me.

I think I'll see if they left any trace.

Step right this way, Miss Trimble,

if you please.

Now, then,

what did you wanna say to me?

- Goodbye.

- Goodbye?

- Is that what you wanted to say to me?

- Yes.

Well, now that's over, have a drink

because I wanna say something to you.

- What?

- Hello.

Hello, Kitty, how are you?

Gee, it's good to see you back.

I'm not coming back ever.

I've stood it as long as I can.

You're unreliable, untrustworthy

and unappreciative.

Well, you're doing fine.

Here, try this one.

I haven't finished. Except with you.

Absolutely, completely and forever.

This may be the last time

we see each other, you know.

You mean, you're really

going someplace?

One never knows in the Navy.

Tomorrow maybe?

I just thought at least

you'd give me a goodbye kiss.

Just as a patriotic gesture, of course.

Well, I'll let you know

when I finish this drink.

- Contacts, I'm gonna miss you.

- Oh, no, you're not.

- Looks fine on you though.

- It does?

Well, then,

why don't you finish that drink?

Just tilt your head back,

I'll be right with you.

This is your last kiss.

On my honor as a sailor.

Goodbye, sailor.

Goodbye, lieutenant.

That's the quickest commission

a sailor ever got.

Oh, there's a submarine

off the starboard bow.

Clear for action.

I beg your pardon, Miss Trimble,

have you seen Quentin?

He was here a minute ago.

Quentin.

- So you had to do it, didn't you?

- Yes, Edwina.

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