Bobby: We’ll have a child when you’re well — a girl, and we’ll call her Pat.
Pat (drinks from a glass of water): Maybe it’s better not. You’ve got to forget me. And if you do think of me, you must only think what good times we had — nothing more. (she sighs) It’s over — why — we’ll never understand. (shakes her head; speaks almost impersonally) I can’t understand it — why two people should love as we do and yet one die.
Bobby (speaking with difficulty): One or the other must die first. But we’re a long way from that.
Pat: People should die when they’re alone, or when they hate — not when they love.
Bobby (miserable): We could make a better world, couldn’t we, dearest?
Pat (nodding): We wouldn’t allow things like that. But what we’ve had couldn’t have been better. Only too short.
DISSOLVE TO:
341 — 350 AN OPERATING ROOM
WE SEE A MONTAGE MADE UP OF THE FOLLOWING FLASHES:
A DOCTOR’S TROUSERS AND NURSE’S SKIRT UNDER AN OPERATING TABLE — AN INSTRUMENT TABLE WITH RUBBER GLOVED HANDS PICKING UP INSTRUMENTS — A NURSE’S HAND AND MASK AS SHE OPERATES AN ANESTHETIC MACHINE — UNDER THE OPERATING TABLE AS BEFORE, THIS TIME A CLOSEUP OF THE DOCTOR’S FEET, HEEL LIFTING SLOWLY OFF THE GROUND AS IN A GOLFER’S SWING TO INDICATE THAT HE IS NOW AT THE CULMINATION OF HIS EFFORT.
A CORRIDOR OUTSIDE — TWO PAIRS OF LEGS (BOBBY’S AND KOSTER’S) WALKING UP AND DOWN TOGETHER — A CIGARETTE DROPS, A FOOT CRUSHES IT, A HAND PICKS UP THE BUTTS. THE FEET WALKING ONE WAY. THE FEET WALKING THE OTHER WAY.
THE OPERATING ROOM, Nurses’ and Doctor’s feet walking away from the table, instruments being thrown into a steam boiler.
CUT TO:
THE TABLE — being wheeled back through the building into an elevator, out again.
DISSOLVE TO:
351 INT. BOBBY’S ROOM
Bobby pacing. Koster coming in the door from the hall.
Koster: Perfectly normal. Never was any danger and there won’t be, if she stays perfectly quiet.
Bobby: Can’t I even see her?
Koster: Certainly. I’ve even got permission to say goodbye before I start.
DISSOLVE TO:
352 PAT’S ROOM —
— darkened. The door to Bobby’s room is open and Bobby and Koster are standing beside Pat who lies in bed.
Koster (to Pat): Don’t you try to say goodbye — you save your strength for this husband of yours. Half an hour ago he was a lot sicker than you. (Pat presses his hand and smiles from one to the other) Goodbye for a little while — Comrade.
FOLLOW Bobby and Koster into the other room. They close the door behind them.
CUT TO:
353 A CURTAIN
— blowing in at the window with a sudden draft.
CUT TO:
354 THE CONNECTING DOOR
— which they had thought shut, blowing slowly open.
CUT TO:
355 PAT’S EYES
— fixed on that door.
CUT TO:
356 INT. BOBBY’S ROOM
Bobby (firmly): Otto, where are you getting the money for this?
Koster: Somewhere out of the future — it’s nice not knowing exactly. (he hands Bobby a roll of bills) Why not draw on the future? We draw on the past. Why there are stars still shining that blew up ten thousand years ago —
Bobby (interrupting): Where are you getting this money?
Koster: Why —
Bobby: Tell me!
Koster (hesitating, then very simply): From Heinrich — it’s Dr. Jaffé’s Heinrich now. You see, he admired him so much…
CUT TO:
357 PAT’S ROOM
Pat’s eyes wide and staring. Pat’s head shaking from side to side in dismay.
CUT TO:
358 BOBBY’S ROOM
Bobby utterly sunk.
Bobby: That’s worse than the money lenders.
Koster: I shouldn’t have told you, you baby.
Bobby: This may be a matter of months, years.
CUT TO:
359 PAT’S ROOM
A nurse opening the door, looking at her, closing it. Pat’s hand slowly comes out from under the covers.
CUT TO:
360 THE UPPER HALL
Bobby and Koster walking toward the head of the stairs.
CUT TO:
361 PAT’S ROOM
Pat’s hand slowly taking off the bed clothes.
CUT TO:
362 THE LOBBY DOWNSTAIRS
A scattering of patients. Koster and Bobby pass through, meet Tony who shakes hands with Koster. Radio playing nervous music. “Heinrich” is visible through the front door.
CUT TO:
363 PAT ON THE SIDE OF HER BED
— slowly pulling herself erect, standing still a moment and then stretching out her closed fists quickly toward the ceiling and reaching toward death — the only thing that can save her love, her high honor.
CUT TO:
364 EXT. THE INN
“Heinrich” racing from the door with the cut-out open.
CUT TO:
365 PANNING SHOT — BOBBY
— rushing through the lobby again, brushing past several patients and running upstairs, two steps at a time.
CUT TO:
366 PAT’S ROOM
Pat collapsed in a heap beside the bed, dying. Bobby coming in the door — seeing — going to her —
Bobby: Pat — oh, Pat. (he raises her, supports her. Pat’s head wobbles on her shoulders) Help — somebody!
Pat (very low): It’s all right — it’s hard to die — but I’m quite full of love — like a bee is full of honey when it comes back to the hive in the evening.
On these words, before her eyes close in death, we —
FADE OUT.
367 FADE IN:
A SNOW-COVERED CEMETERY ON A HILL IN THE CITY — EVENING
Bobby and Koster, their eyes straight before them, are walking down a broad path. There is a faint glow in the sky and far away the unmistakable tp! tp! tp! tp! of a machine gun.
Koster: There’s fighting in the city.
As they continue on, they are suddenly four instead of two — the shadowy figures of Pat and Lenz, grave and tender, walk beside them toward whatever lies ahead.
FADE OUT.
THE END
INFIDELITY
Fitzgerald wrote this unfinished screenplay in 1938, but the censor Joseph Breen was unhappy with the content when he read a draft, and the project was dropped. It was felt the handling of adultery would give out an immoral message, which was particularly frowned upon at that time. Therefore, the film was never made and the script was left incomplete.
INFIDELITY.
The Waldorf Roof after the theatre on a gala night: A well-dressed crowd, two bands, a floor show.
Camera picks up two men in tailcoats at a table near the door. One of them is trim and elderly. The other has wild, rumpled hair. They have dropped in for a quick drink and their top hats sit on the table before them. Both hold opera glasses to their eyes, through which they rather unsteadily observe the crowd.
Camera shoots between them at the crowd.
GREY HAIR: Table beside the bass drum.
RUMPLED HAIR (moving his opera glasses): I’ve got it.
GREY HAIR: What do you say?
RUMPLED HAIR: Let me concentrate.
A blurred dose shot of a table across the room seen through a frame shaped like this [sign] OO to suggest open glasses. The blur dears to show two young people leaning ecstatically over: the table toward each other.
The observers’table.
RUMPLED HAIR: I say, engaged.
GREY HAIR: Sure. Now the couple on their right.
Camera, acting as opera glasses, pans to a dull couple of thirty, utterly bored, staring for amusement anywhere bur at each other. Accidently, their eyes meet with a glazed expression and, as if startled, hastily seek other focuses.
GREY HAIR’S VOIC
E: Married.
RUMPLED HAIR’S VOICE: That’s too easy.
Camera, as opera-glasses, pans gain to the right, picking up a devoted couple of thirty-five, happy; at ease with each other, interested in what’s outside because they are seeing it together.
RUMPLED HAIR’S VOICE: Married?
GREY HAIR’S VOICE: Yes. (Pause.) Lucky devils.
Camera, as opera glasses, pans left, picking up another couple. The girl is talking earnestly, passionately to the man. The man is listening, his mouth moving uneasily. Once his eyes wander quickly from side to side, then back to her. Her eyes have swayed slightly with his.
GREY HAIR’S VOICE: Cheating.
The observers’table: Both men lower their opera-glasses, laughing.
RUMPLED HAIR: That’s obvious.
He drinks as Grey Hair raises his opera glasses again.
RUMPLED HAIR (calling off): Waiter — the check.
GREY HAIR: Wait a minute. Close-up of Grey Hair’s face: His face tightens with interest as he looks through the glasses.
GREY HAIR: Take a look at this couple. The camera shoots between them at the crowd.
RUMPLED HAIR (raising opera glasses as a waiter’s hand lets check fall on table): Where are they?
GREY HAIR: Near the mike... where the waiter is. Seen their faces somewhere... Camera, as opera glasses, picks, up Nicolas and Althea
Gilbert at a table beside the floor show; they are a handsome,
attractive, vital, well-dressed pair. Camera holds on them during following business during which their lips move appropriately but we hear nothing. They have just been served a light supper by a waiter who now retires. Nicolas makes a polite reference to the floor show which she answers with a courteous smile, such as one gives to a stranger. The smile fades rather quickly, however, and their eyes meet for a moment, gravely — but not as if they were strangers’eyes, for with a stranger, some conversation would have to go with such a look.Now Althea says something and he reacts politely and deferentially, again as to a stranger, but once again their eyes meet and hold, silent and inscrutable in the way no strangers’eyes would. They are certainly accustomed to each other; with equal certainty there is a barrier between them.
GREY HAIR’S VOICE: What do you make of them?
RUMPLED HAIR’S VOICE: Brother and sister.
GREY HAIR’S VOICE Too polite. (Pause)
RUMPLED HAIR’S VOICE: Married — but love somebody else.
At this point the couple’s eyes meet for the second time.
GREY HAIR’S VOICE: I don’t know about that either.
RUMPLED HAIR’S VOICE: I give up. Come on. Who started this game anyhow?
A sort of wipe dissolve, as if the glasses were being laid down, disclosing: Full shot of the room from the observers’table. As Grey Hair and Rumpled Hair rise to pay their bill, the camera forgets them and moves swiftly forward through the tables with the music swelling up. It takes position for a two-shot of Nicolas and Althea Gilbert and during the rest of the scene, as a distinct innovation in treatment, it remains entirely stationary. The shot is wide enough so that we can see the entertainment on the other side of their table — enough of it to almost hold our interest by itself. In the floor show, between and beyond them, we see a soprano finishing a torch number.
SOPRANO (singing): There’s love outside the window.
There’s love beyond the door,
There’s love around the corner,
But I don’t go there anymore.
Nicolas and Althea clap perfunctorily. Their eyes meet but this time they avoid the glance just slightly.
NICOLAS (attentive): More sherry?
ALTHEA: No, thanks.
Some gay people pass them going out, brush against the table, excuse themselves. Nicolas looks quickly to see if Althea has been annoyed, then inclines his head slightly. The two eat in silence. With a not too emphasized gesture, Althea turns her wedding ring with her thumb. Headwaiter comes into scene.
WAITER: Everything all right, Mr. Gilbert?
NICOLAS: Very nice.
ALTHEA (almost in the same breath): Very nice. Waiter retires
NICOLAS (polite): Salt.
ALTHEA (handing it): Oh, I’m sorry.
NICOLAS (using it): Thanks.
A ventriloquist number how begins on the floor — they give it mild attention.They are well-bred; their expressions are in full control. The air of constraint will transpire from what they do and say — there should be no attempt to “act”.
THE VENTRILOQUIST (to his dummy): Well, Jimmy, since you took the fatal leap, I haven’t seen so much of you.
DUMMY: My wife complains of that, too. A peal of laughter from a nearby table. The Gilberts’expressions are pleasant but they do not smile. Their attitude continues through several other jokes on marriage. The ventriloquist moves our of our vision; his voice continues, faint and indistinguishable.
NICOLAS: Want some coffee?
ALTHEA: No thanks, but you have some.
NICOLAS: Not for me.
Laughter at the ventriloquist comes from the tables. Nicolas turns his head slightly but isn’t much interested. He raises his hand to the waiter who, comes into the scene.
NICOLAS: Check, please. (To Althea:) Or perhaps you want to see.
ALTHEA (wakening from an abstracted mood and covering up with a polite smile): What? No — no. I’ve had enough.
Nicolas nods at the waiter who figures the check. Nicolas pays, and for the first time Althea looks around at the other tables, ending by looking directly into the camera which thereupon moves up to a dose shot of her. Her face is passive, mask-like, but we are sure she is a woman who has not found in life what she desires.
The lobby of the Waldorf: The Gilberts step out of the elevator; his attitude is protective. The other passengers cast covert glances at this notably handsome, well-dressed couple. Camera follows them out the door.
The street in front of the hotel: Nicolas stops beside a newspaper vending machine for an early morning edition. After a step, Althea stops too. In deference to her, he hurries forth the paper, stuffs it in his pocket, and they walk on together. The doorman recognizes them. DOORMAN: Yes, Mr. Gilbert — your car’s here. (Signals down [unknown] and blows whistle.) Limousine draws up, chauffeur jumps out, the Gilberts get in and they drive off.
Interior of limousine; night: Althea is staring straight ahead; Nicolas takes out his paper, turns on the little light and reads. Althea’s glance is caught by an item on an inner page — an advertisement for fine laces. Nicolas adjusts the paper politely so she can see it — before he turns the page, he paid a side-glance to see if she’s finished.
ALTHEA: I’m through. (She turns eyes front again.) Hold on Nicolas and Althea riding in silence long enough to indicate that their silence is habitual. No individual shots — the camera should emphasize their physical nervousness, yet sort of intimacy. They seem to be so perfectly mated, they would be in each other’s arms, deliriously happy. A rich but not palatial house in the East Sixties; night: Nicolas starts to unlock the door when Starks, the butler, opens it.
As camera follows them in:
NICOLAS (to butler): You didn’t have to sit, Starks.
BUTTER: There were some phones, sir. Camera follows them into a luxurious drawing room, in the best taste, family portaits, etc., not just Park Avenue interior decoration. These are people of tradition.
BUTLER: Your brother phoned from the airport in Chicago, sir. He’s arriving by plane tomorrow morning.
NICOLAS: Ah, good, good, (He half turns to Althea as if to share his joy, but recollects himself immediately, enthusiasm fading.)
ALTHEA (shedding her fur coat): That’s nice.
BUTLER: (reading from a list): And Mr. E.R.P. Chetton, and Senator Wade from Washington, and Mr. Morris Cauley.
NICOLAS (lightly): Give me the list — I’ll dream on it.
BUTLER (to Althea from another list): And from the hospital (Althea is instantly alert), the superi
ntendent — Mrs. Gostal, or —
Complete Works of F. Scott Fitzgerald UK (Illustrated) Page 402