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High Society CD1

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End of song, beginning of story.
Man, dig that crazy rehearsal hall.
What a powerful pile of rock. l can't go in there.
-Why can't you go in there? -l ain't got my library card.
Dig you.
-Are you the musicians? -That's what the man said.
-What name shall l say? -Tell Dex old Satchelmouth.
Will you please follow me, Mr. Satchelmouth?
Wipe your feet, boys. Something tells me we've got a long walk ahead.
Hey, pops! How's the chops? Good to see you, boy!
-Hey, fellas! -How's everything?
You've been all over Europe since l saw you.
-Go to Sweden? -Yes.
-Skol. -l was the skol-est cat ever.
l bet you were. Here it is, fellas. Just lay it out here.
l never thought you lived in a big house.
Shows what happens when your grandfather's a robber baron.
-You can play football in here. -But can you rehearse?
-ls the chandelier tied tight? -lf it swings, put a mute in your horn.
Pardon me. The ladies are waiting in the library.
Vamp a little, will you?
-Okay, Dex. -All right.
Ladies?
-Dexter. -Hello, Ruth.
Thanks for letting the musicians rehearse here.
-Tickled to death. -You saved the festival.
As long as l can save you.
-Hello, Helen. -Save us?
You know you might lose your billing in the blue book?
Jazz is considered very unchic.
Oh, l'm sure we'll love it.
Let us know if we can help.
l will. Thanks a lot for coming by.
-Thank you. -We'll keep in touch.
-You bet. Bye. -Bye.
-Hello? -Hello, Dexter?
-This is Caroline. -Hello, beautiful.
Any time now.
Where's Tracy? l've been yelling for her.
You don't yell, Caroline. You call a person.
You yell if you're in pain.
Well, this wedding gives me a pain.
l think Tracy was awful mean to divorce Dexter.
Can l have this?
Oh, and take those presents over to the other table.
Mother, Tracy's sort of hard, isn't she?
Not hard. None of my children are that, l hope. The goblets too.
Tracy's just exceptionally strong-minded.
And very wonderful always.
l wish something would happen around here.
Nothing definitely ever happens here.
Out of the way, angel. You'll get stepped on.
So far, l've received 24 nut dishes and 1 6 silver ice picks.
That should give you an idea of what people think of your next husband.
Mother, don't you think Caroline's old enough to go to a good military school?
-What's this? -l haven't the faintest idea.
-lt stinks. -Don't say stinks, darling.
lf absolutely necessary, ""smells,"" but only if absolutely necessary.
lf you put this picture in my wedding presents once more...
...l'm going to personally chain you to your bed.
Why, what is it, dear?
-He was handsome. -Don't talk of him as if he were dead.
Well, he is dead to me.
And if that picture turns up once more, it's going right in the ashcan.
Well, look at this.
-Wow. Jewels. -From Father.
lsn't it pretty?
His girlfriend probably turned it down.
-That's not fair to your father. -How can you defend him?
A common chorus girl.
She's not a chorus girl. She's quite a talented ballet dancer.
lsn't it stinking of Tracy not to invite Father to the wedding?
Yes, Caroline. Just between us, it's good and stinking.
Me too.
Oh, darling, why don't you face facts squarely as l did?
We might face the fact that neither of us has been a great success as a wife.
We both took the only stand a woman could take and keep her self-respect.
-Yes, dear. -The Hammonds.
And now l have my self-respect and no husband.
-Oh, we're both better off. Believe me. -Yes, dear.
-And we're both happier. -Yes, dear.
-Oh, isn't George an angel? -Yes, George is an angel.
-Now, is he handsome, or is he not? -George is handsome.
Golly Moses, l'm a lucky girl.
Tracy, that's your song. Dexter must be home.
Mother, has Dexter come back?
Well, we knew Dexter was giving his house over to this festival.
l suppose he might have come back.
He's back. No one but Dexter would play that song.
That wretched, cheap, vulgar song.
That beautiful, wonderful song he wrote especially for her.
That's gratitude.
He's gonna get nowhere with that kind of music.
Good for the feet, nothing for the heart.
Hello, Sam.
l'd like to talk to you privately.
Well, now, l consider that right neighborly.
You lost a little weight, haven't you, Sam?
Oh, no, you're slipping. That used to scare me.
The withering glance of the goddess.
l just want to know what you are doing here the day before my wedding.
Business. l've become a distinguished composer--
Oh, distinguished.
They needed help here, so l heeded the call of duty.
Don't pretend with me, Dexter.
You deliberately planned this festival to conflict with my wedding.
lt's a shabby, vindictive gesture.
Harsh words. Well, let's be honest. l'll admit it. l'm still in love with you.
l don't want you to get married. You can still be a wonderful woman.
-l haven't the same high hopes for you. -l don't wanna be a wonderful woman.
lsn't it enough you almost spoiled my life without spoiling my wedding?
-l didn't try to spoil your life, Sam. -And stop calling me Sam.
l know you didn't try to spoil mine, but you called the shots.
You were dictating the fellow you wanted me to be.
With your background and taste and intelligence...
...you could have become a serious composer, or a diplomat...
...or anything you wanted to be.
And what have you become? A jukebox hero?
Well, is that bad?
Dexter, be satisfied and let me alone.
Go away. Go away and stay away.
l tried to. l even wanted to.
But l guess l'm just a weak character. l'm still in love with you.
Dexter?
Oh, hello, honey.
-l don't think your sister likes me. -l do.
Thanks, sweetie.
What do you suppose she sees in George anyway?
l don't know. Tracy just likes character, l guess.
l don't think George has so much character.
Now, l hate to admit it, but l think she's made a pretty good choice.
l expect some day to see George Kittredge president of Redfern Coal.
That's not hard. Father's president of Redfern Coal.
Let's be fair now, honey.
Takes a lot of character to start at the bottom and work your way up.
lf you start at the bottom of a coal mine...
...and worked your way to the top...
...you'd still only be on the ground.
Little one, you've brought up an interesting point.
Why does he always have to walk like he owned the world?
And the way he stiffs the air?
Like he was looking for breakfast.
For a minute there, l thought you were George Kittredge himself.
No, you're Caroline.
Hi.
-Hello, beautiful. -Hello, handsome.
-Did you miss me? -Miserably.
-You happy now? -Ecstatic.
Didn't expect to find you coming from the garden.
Dexter's back. He's turned his house over to those musicians.
Yes, l know. The posters are all over town.
George? You don't really mind him, do you?
Dexter? Well, how do you mean?
Well, l mean, the fact of him.
l still don't understand, dear.
You know, that he was....
Well, my lord and master.
No one has ever been your lord and master.
Until now.
Poor Dexter is the sort of man whose inheritance robbed him of his heritage.
He never earned you, so how could he be expected to appreciate you?
-George, you're so good for me. -l hope so.
Dexter?
Are you ever gonna get married again?
Sure l am. But l'm waiting for you to grow up.
-Dexter, for you l'll hurry. -Yes, you're gonna have to.
l wouldn't have acted the way Tracy did when you published your song about her.
-l wish you'd write a song about me. -Would you like that? Really?
Well, we ought to be able to whip something up here.
Dexter, that was beautiful. l consider us engaged.
Right song, but the wrong girl.
Hello? Oh, hello, Willie, l'm glad you called.
Cousin Martha just phoned. She wants me to give you lunch.
She wants you out of the house.
Well, where are you?
l'm in the office of the editor of SPY magazine.
No, no, no. Spy. lt rhymes with lie.
Right. Now, he wants to send a couple of reporters up to cover Tracy's wedding.
Now, don't explode, my dear.
l have just read an article right here on the editor's desk...
...about your husband and that dancer.
You know.
But it's blackmail. Beside, Tracy would never allow it.
Now, if you will allow a reporter and a photographer...
...into your home to cover Tracy's wedding...
...l have the editor's word as a gentleman...
...that he will withhold the article on your husband.
All right, Willie, l suppose we have no choice.
Tracy'll hit the ceiling.
Goodbye.
Mother!
George came early. l'll tell Edward to set another place for lunch.
-l'm pooped. -No, dear, you're enervated.
l'm pooped too.
There is one thing l want understood right now.
No member of my family is to invite Dexter-Haven into this house...
...until after l am married and gone.
l will not have my wedding spoiled by intruders.
-Tracy. -Yes?
l'm afraid we'll have to endure a couple of intruders.
l've just talked to Uncle Willie.
Uncle Willie's an evil old man. Did he invite a couple painted ladies?
Please, Caroline. Run along, dear.
And roll down your trousers.
Your Uncle Willie wants us to have a photographer and reporter...
...from SPY magazine cover your wedding.
ls he out of his mind?
lntimate pictures of my wedding in that barbershop magazine?
He can't be serious.
He's quite serious. lf we don't allow them...
...this magazine will publish a rather unsavory article about your father.
Good. l couldn't be happier. lt serves him right.
You mustn't be vindictive.
As Uncle Willie points out, you'll only make George suffer.
You owe it to him to suppress this if you possibly can.
And l'm to be examined, undressed and generally humiliated at 1 5 cents a copy?
-No. -Have some compassion, Tracy.
But this is intolerable. The idea of letting Father off scot-free.
No, l won't do it. And in our house, watching every move.
Why, jotting down notes on how we sit and talk and eat and move...
...just to save Father's face, no.
-Tracy-- -No!
For me, please?
Mother, l really think you're sorry you ever let Father go.
For George and for me, Tracy.
Oh, all right. l can't stand seeing you hurt.
Thank you, dear.
All right. Let them send their spies.
-l'll give them a story. -Now, Tracy.
l'll give them a slant on Newport home life that will stand their hair on end.
Tracy, promise me you'll behave like a lady in front of these creatures.
l promise.
Looks like the sort of place where treaties are signed.
Or wars declared.
Maybe we should have gone to the service entrance.
Maybe this is the service entrance.
l don't understand how the Lords ever got talked into letting us come down here.
lt's publicity, they love it.
lt's a wonder they didn't roll out the red carpet.
-Mike, l don't like this assignment. -Neither do l, Liz, but l like to eat.
How do you do? l think we're expected.
Mike Connor and Miss lmbrie. We're from SPY magazine.
l'll tell Mrs. Lord you're here. Please wait in the south parlor.
-The south parlor. -But of course.
The family will be here directly to welcome you.
l wonder what with.
-The south parlor. -That's right.
Would you have four footmen bring me a large ashtray, please?
Mike, be careful what you say. We may be wired for sound.
They couldn't pay me to live in a joint like this.
You know, they won't.
l'd have more respect for this dame if she'd throw us out.
Don't make snap judgments.
You were wrong about me, remember?
Yeah.
Hey, Liz.
Look at that loot that they collected.
Wow. They must run a hockshop on the side.
What's the matter?
The joint's full of spies.
That ought to make us feel at home.
Move over.
Thank you.
Look at this, Liz. All the comforts.
Lousy with phones. South parlor, sunroom, terrace, pool, stables. Stables?
l always knew horses could talk.
Mike, don't!
-Yes? -This is the voice of doom.
What?
This is to tell you your days are numbered.
Hello? Oh, dear.
One of the servants has been at the sherry again.
Look, Huckleberry, you'll get us tossed out of here before we get a story.
Stop worrying.
You just watch the old master put them through the loops.
l'll watch, professor.
l assume these are the Seth Lord ancestors.
There certainly can be no other reason for hanging them.
Can't say they look very bright.
lnbreeding. Always produces idiots.
Here. Open this.
How do you do? l believe you're the lady and gentleman from the press.
l am Caroline Lord.
Well, l'm Elizabeth lmbrie and this is Mr. Macaulay Connor.
l spoke French before l spoke English.
My early childhood was spent in Paris, where my father worked in a bank.
The House of Morgan.
-You don't say. -Yes, l do say.
Can you play the piano? l can.
l shall play and sing at the same time.
How do you do? l'm Tracy Lord.
You must be-- Oh, of course, you are.
l adore strangers.
Do sit down, please.
That sister of yours--
lsn't she a dear? And so talented. But we're afraid she has a homicidal streak.
-Did you get lost finding us? -No. We had good directions.
l hope you don't mind our being here.
Oh, but l'm delighted. We have so much cake.
-What is your name, dear? -No, thank you.
l'm so sensitive to names.
My name is Elizabeth lmbrie.
Elizabeth lmbrie.
lt sounds like a medieval saint who was burned to death. And you?
l'm Mike Connor.
Michael. What a lovely musical name. Now, you mustn't be ashamed of it.
l'm not. Mike is for Macaulay.
And what's the Macaulay for?
My father taught English history. My friends call me Mike.
Of whom you have many, l'm sure.
English history has always fascinated me.
Cromwell and Robin Hood.
And Jack the Ripper. Where did he teach?
-Your father, l mean. -South Bend, lndiana.
South Bend. lt sounds like dancing, doesn't it?
You must have had a most happy childhood there.
-lt was screams. -l'm so glad.
-l didn't mean it that way. -Sorry.
lt's a natural mistake.
-Are you the photographer or the...? -l take pictures.
Great art. Did you bring your Brownie? You must be sort of a writer, Mr. Connor.
-Sort of, yes. -Have l read your novels?
l doubt it.
-l haven't written any. -But you must.
Why, Mozart composed at 1 3. You must be at least 30.
Time is flying. Where were you born, Miss lmbrie?
-Duluth. -Duluth.
-That's west of here, isn't it? -Sort of.
But we occasionally get the eastern breezes.
-Are you two going together? -Now, look, Miss Lord.
-That's an odd question, l must say. -l don't see why. l think it's fascinating.
Like birds in spring. lt's--
Well, it's the sort of intimate detail you like to write about, isn't it, Mr. Connor?
But if you'd rather not have your privacy invaded...
...l will certainly respect your wishes. Please.
lf you'll excuse me, l'll see what's keeping Mama.
Mama is so eager to see you.
Mama?
You know, professor, l think you dropped a loop.
-She can't be for real. -Who was doing the interviewing?
-Do you think she was born that way? -No. Takes years.
l know we're being taken for a ride.
Well, if we are, let's enjoy the scenery.
l'm scared. l wanna go home.
Mama. Mama, this is Miss lmbrie of Duluth...
...and the young man she goes with at SPY magazine, Mr. Mike Macaulay Connor.
-He's the son of an English teacher. -How do you do?
-Sorry to keep you waiting. -Not at all.
-We enjoyed the floor show. -You must mean Caroline.
-Well, then, you've met us all, haven't you? -Except Mr. Lord.
Look at the pretty way she does her hair.
-lt's lovely. ls it lacquered? -No.
-Will Mr. Lord be here for the wedding? -We're about to have lunch. Join us.
-Thank you. -Good. l'll tell Edward.
We wondered about Mr. Lord because l was hoping to be able to get--
-We wondered about Mr. Lord-- -We usually have box lunches on the lawn.
But today it's sit-down. Come to the garden.
-Do you like your sherry dry or sweet? -Scotch on the rocks.
George, Mr. Connor of SPY magazine. He's going to cover our wedding.
How do you do?
-And Miss lmbrie of Duluth. -How do you do?
Splendid. l'm a great admirer of your magazine, Mr. Connor.
Really? Why?
lt has its finger on the pulse of the public and its ear to the ground.
That's a vulnerable position, don't you think?
l asked Edward to set two extra places.
Make it three. Hello, sweetheart!
-Who he? -This is Miss lmbrie and Mr. Connor...
-...from SPY magazine. -SPY?
Your tastes have changed a little, haven't they, Sam?
-Sam? -Her middle name's Samantha.
-She hates it. Hi. -Hi.
lsn't it time for your milk and arsenic, darling?
Are you the same Dexter-Haven that wrote a song called ""Samantha""?
And unless l'm mistaken, weren't you once married to Miss Lord?
-Guilty on both counts. -l remember. Two years ago.
Elopement, headlines, divorce, headlines...
-...and now you're back for the wedding? -l'm here for this jazz festival...
...but l expect to pitch a little rice on the side.
Mr. Haven has become quite famous since our divorce.
Undoubtedly you know of his piano concerto ""Choo Choo Mama.""
Yes, l know it very well.
Tell me, how did you and Mr. Kittredge meet?
Heaven brought them together.
My father took me to inspect one of his mines...
...and Mr. Kittredge was there to guide us.
-How romantic. -Yes, they met in a hole in the ground.
We're all very friendly. lt's the only civilized way to behave.
Could l have a picture of the bride between her first and second husband?
Really, l don't-- Darling....
ls something like this thrilling?
May the two gentlemen look at each other?
You don't look as well as the last time l saw you.
Ready?
You've got a lot on your mind. But it's too late to back out, old boy.
-They grew up together. -Miss Lord...
...would you look at your first husband in this one, please?
You don't look old enough to marry anybody. You never did.
Ready?
-One more, please. -Naturally.
She needs trouble to mature, Kittredge. Give her a lot of it.
-l'm afraid she can't count on me for that. -That's a pity. l gave her plenty.
Ready?
Mr. Kittredge, could you smile? You're the groom, you know.
-There. Thank you. -Good.
Miss Lord, please lift your chin.
l thought l was sticking it out.
Say, that's some rock you got there, Sam. Did you mine that yourself, George?
Father sent her a diamond necklace.
Yes, when will l be able to get a picture of the family united with Mr. Lord?
-My husband loathes publicity. -He will be here a little later, won't he?
Papa!
Papa. lt's Papa!
-Oh, capital, it's Papa! -Dear Papa, you came at last.
Papa? Have you by any chance slipped a cog?
Uncle Willie, for the time being, you have to be Father.
-Why? -l shall explain later.
-Look, it's Papa! -lt's Papa!
-lt's Papa. -Yes.
Tell Edward to set another place for lunch.
-You're looking clever today, Papa. -Thank you.
-Papa, this is Miss lmbrie and Mr. Connor. -They're from SPY.
Spy? Yes, of course, the magazine. l believe l know your editor.
-Dreadful fellow. -He's wretched.
Papa, these two charming people were beginning to doubt your existence.
Well, imagine that.
Father of the bride. We'll use it to head the article.
l'm afraid you got my bad side.
-l'm sure you have no bad side, Mr. Lord. -l like her.
Now, l'll have a drink, if l may.
How clumsy of me. l could die.
-l'll bet it's ruined. -l'd like a piece of your bet.
-ls it broken? -Probably.
-Whatever will you do? -l carry a spare.
-Luncheon is served. -Thank you, Edward.
Shall we go in? We're all famished, l'm sure.
-Bring your drinks. -Sweetie.
-l haven't got a drink. -Have some schnapps, Pops.
When you look at this wonderful family...
...do you wonder what you've done to deserve it?
l do indeed, my boy.
Every morning l look into the mirror and l say to myself:
""Seth Lord, what in the world have you done to deserve this?""
-And what have you done? -l beg your pardon? Oh, not a thing.
lt's a fine place you have. Build it yourself?
Of course. Brick by brick.
Quite an undertaking, you know. l--
And it would appear that each brick is about to fall upon me.
-Tracy, your Uncle Willie is here. -My what?
Aren't you gonna greet Uncle Willie?
Uncle Willie!
Uncle Willie!
-Father, what are you doing here? -l have a right to be here.
-You're Uncle Willie, understand? -No. l don't.
-l'll explain later. -Look, everybody...
...isn't it nice of Uncle Willie to surprise us?
Miss lmbrie, Mr. Connor, this is my Uncle Willie.
Were you, by any chance, playing footsie with me at lunch?
From where l sat?
l didn't think your reach was that good.
Seth Lord has a roving eye. And foot.
-Elegant junk. -lt's shiny.
Would l trade places with Miss Tracy Lord for all her wealth and beauty?
-Just ask me. -All right, l will.
Would you trade places with Miss Tracy Lord for all of her wealth and beauty?
You know, l can't help thinking about it.
Cold?
And what little mission of mischief brings you out of the bushes?
A wedding present.
Wouldn't it have been simpler to have it sent over?
Oh, no.
Whoever brought it could never say what l want to say.
Well?
Lovely and unrelenting.
-You said you had something to say. -l'd hoped you'd changed a little, Tracy...
...maybe softened some.
Well, not for my sake entirely, but for yours.
-You'd stand a better chance at happiness. -Thank you. l'll manage.
Oh, yeah. l bet you will. You'll manage all right.
You'll manage George too.
But heaven help him if he shows any signs of weakness or rebellion.
l see you haven't changed either, Dexter.
l tried hard to figure it out.
Your father hurt you deeply when he hurt your mother.
-Please. -So you started demanding perfection.
Nobody was gonna hurt you. You felt l tricked you.
l didn't know you wanted a husband who'd be high priest to a virgin goddess.
-Stop using those foul words. -lt's a real pity too, Tracy.
You'd be a wonderful woman if you'd just let your tiara slip a little.
But you'll never be a wonderful woman, or even a wonderful human being...
...until you learn to have some regard for human frailty.
There's a lot more of you goddesses around than people realize.
-ls that all you have to say? -No.
Those first weeks we spent together were the most wonderful l've ever known.
l want to thank you for them.
Good luck, Sam, and good sailing.
Hey skipper, when do we eat?
Now.
-Well, you've been at it long enough. -lt's the bride's prerogative.
l don't like you out of my sight so long.
That's nice.
l'll have that fixed in the morning.
First course.
You'll never be able to follow it.
Second course.
-What is it? -Tomato juice.
You've done something brilliant to it. What?
-Opened the can and poured it out. -lt's so piquant.
Good.
-lnvented by the Earl of Sandwich? -With something special added.
-You hussy! -You said you'd eat anything.
lt's for you.
Tracy?
Tracy?
Hey.
You all right?
-Yes. l-- l was just-- -l know. Half asleep.
Say, aren't you a pretty big girl to be playing with boats?
lt's a model of the True Love. A wedding present from Dexter.
We spent our honeymoon on her. Oh my, she was yare.
Yare? What's yare?
Sleek, quick to the helm, everything a boat should be.
lt seems hardly in good taste as a wedding present.
George, the true love never really existed with Dexter.
l want you to know that.
l do know.
That's the wonderful thing about you.
You're untouched by this foolish first marriage.
There's a beautiful purity about you...
...like a statue to be worshipped.
But l don't want to be worshipped. l want to be loved.
That goes without saying. But l also want you up on a pedestal where you belong.
Where l can look up and adore you.
Never mind.
Tracy, aren't you going in, dear?
-l've changed my mind. -Mr. Lord...
...l haven't had a chance to thank you yet for coming back for the wedding.
lt was very decent of you and we both appreciate it.
Well, thank you, George. l felt my wife would not object.
George, we moved your things to make room for those magazine people.
-You don't mind, do you? -Anything you do is all right with me.
We're having cocktails here before going to Uncle Willie's.
l'd better dash off and change.
l'll see you later, Tracy.
Excuse me.
l have a feeling George is going to take that ring tomorrow...
...and go right through center with it.
That's very amusing.
Almost as amusing as the sight of you with your arm around Mother.
Well, l find it most unamusing to be passed off as your Uncle Willie.
And do take that tone out of your voice. lt is most unattractive.
Oh, really?
And your dancer friend, how does she speak to you, dulcet and intoxicating?
Heady enough to make you forget family responsibilities?
-Stop it instantly! -Mother, l can't help it. lt's sickening.
A magnificent right he's got to come back in his best head of the family manner...
...and start taking charge as if he's done nothing at all.
Well, it's not really your affair.
lf it concerns anyone....
Actually, l don't know who it concerns except your father.
That is very wise of you, Margaret. What most wives don't seem to realize...
...is that a husband's philandering, even as innocuous as my own...
...has nothing whatever to do with them.
And pray, just what has it to do with, then?
A reluctance to grow old, l think.
l suppose the best mainstay a man can have as he gets along in years...
...is a daughter.
The right kind of daughter, one who's full of warmth and affection...
...a kind of foolish, unquestioning, uncritical affection.
None of which l've got, of course. l'm a cold goddess.
lf your vanity thinks in terms of goddesses.
You have a good mind, Tracy.
You have a pretty face, a fine, disciplined body that does what you tell it.
You have everything it takes to make a lovely woman, except the one essential:
An understanding heart.
Without it, you might just as well be made of bronze.
That's an awful thing to say to anyone.
-lt's an awful thing to have to say. -Seth, that's too much.
l'm afraid it isn't enough.
Darling, your father doesn't mean that.
Neither one of you means it.
Both of you seem to forget that in striking out at each other...
...you hurt others besides yourself.
What's the matter with everyone all of a sudden?
Get in.
Are you learning anything about the idle rich?
Yeah, they drive too fast.
Where we headed anyway?
-The graveyard. -l'm not ready.
l thought l'd show you the playground of the rich, the graveyard of wealth.
Well, for that l'm ready.
Beautiful, isn't it?
The grass needs cutting.
lt's been boarded up for 1 5 years.
-Why? -The high cost of being rich.
Most of the homes here are closed up or sold for taxes.
Why don't you write about that?
You've got a chip on your shoulder about me. Why?
Because you came here with your mind already made up.
The time to make up your mind about people is never.
-l had an opinion. -Unfavorable and unfair.
Really? What exactly do you do around here that's so worthwhile?
Do you consider what you do worthwhile?
Making a living off people's personal lives and misfortunes?
-l cannot pick and choose. -You could be anything you wanted to be.
But you'll never be a first-class writer or human being...
...until you learn to have some compassion or regard for human....
-You were saying? -Nothing.
This is the second time you've taken me for a ride. l don't like it.
-Really? -Really, Miss Tracy Samantha.
Samantha. What a lovely, musical name.
Reminds me of an lndian cure for snakebite.
-What's it stand for? The name, l mean. -lt stands for no nonsense.
What do you do beside collect husbands?
-l mind my own business. -This happens to be my business.
For instance, how old are you, Miss Lord? 26?
No children?
Time is flying. What do you do in your spare time?
l sometimes endure arrogant reporters.
Arrogant, indeed.
Shall we keep this on an impersonal basis?
-Shall we continue with the full tour? -Gladly, Miss Lord.
But without the full treatment.
H
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