Complete Works of F. Scott Fitzgerald UK (Illustrated)
Page 406
NICOLAS (smiling): I think we did have once.
IRIS: Once they had your drawing room in Town and Country and Althea’s — Mrs. Gilbert’s — bedroom. I’ve been ah through it in my imagination — many times.
NICOLAS (impetuously): Come up and I see the apartment. What could be more harmless?
IRIS (quite honestly): Oh no — it would spoil me. If I get married, my sitting room, my bedroom have got to seem the best in the world.
NICOLAS (grown a little careless): You’re very welcome — the guest room is yours.
IRIS (dreaming of splendor): The guest room!
NICOLAS (loyally): You’re just the kind of guest I’d like to have. And Althea would, too, if she knew you. Come for the weekend.
IRIS (entranced): That would be-extraordinary.
NICOLAS (delighted at her facet): It’s a deal. Shall we dance?
Interior of a limousine: Afternoon. Rain outside. Nicolas is alone in the seat.
A VOICE: Mr. Gilbert.
NICOLAS (picking up earphone): Yes, Charles.
Shot showing chauffeur through the glass.
CHARLES’S VOICE: Your raincoat’s in the compartment.
NICOLAS: Oh, thanks.
Leaning forward, he opens the compartment, bringing to light also Althea’s rubbers and little umbrella. He reacts strongly to this — not very pleasantly — feeling that this is her domain, their world together and now someone else is coming into it.
The limousine stops in front of a big apartment. Nicolas gets out and the camera follows him in.
Apartment: Nicolas is coming into the drawing room, taking off his gloves. Starks meets him and hands him the evening paper.
STARKS: Good afternoon, sir. (he starts to turn away.)
NICOLAS (embarrassed): Starks, I want to speak to you a minute.
STARKS: Yes, sir.
NICOLAS: Starks, you can — you can go off this weekend. I’m going away.
STARKS: Oh, thank you, sir. We’ve had such an easy time since Madame left. We’ll be right here if you need us. (He starts off scene.)
NICOLAS (a little embarrassed): No, I mean you go off duty. Go away to Atlantic City for a change. You and your wife and the maid too. Get a change. Get a rest.
STARKS: Oh, no thank you, sir. My wife and I have plans right here in New York. Perhaps the maid wants to go. I’ll —
NICOLAS (interrupting): Starks!
STARKS (surprised): Yes, sir.
NICOLAS (stubbornly, defiantly, yet scarcely able to meet Starks’s eye): I told you what I wanted.
STARKS (amazed — drawing a long breath): Yes, sir.
NICOLAS: It’s perfectly all right.
STARKS: Oh, I don’t doubt it, sir.
Starks goes. Nicolas stares at the floor.
The same room: An agency butler — not impeccable like Starks — is going through to answer the doorbell. Camera follows him to the door where he admits Nicolas and Iris.
NICOLAS: Good morning. Did Miss Jones’s bags arrive?
BUTLER: Yes, sir, right after I did.
NICOLAS: In the guest room?
BUTLER: Yes, sir — is there anything else, Mr. Gilman — Gilbert?
Iris, who has been staring about wide-eyed, catches this and reacts in a close-up. First her eyes narrow with fright as she realizes this is a strange servant, then she looks from the butler to Nicolas.
IRIS: Oh.
Two-shot, favoring Nicolas. He looks imperturbable. He doesn’t want to discuss this.
Close-up of Iris: The first sense of guilt changes to a slight lift of the brows and shoulders — complete acceptance of the situation.
NICOLAS’VOICE (over this shot): Nothing else.
Group shot of the butler retiring. Iris is taking Nicolas’arm, confident again, determined to enjoy.
IRIS: This is how you live. (She stares again and speaks half seriously as Nicolas takes her coat.) What do you talk about, the furniture?
NICOLAS: Yeah — and the wallpaper and how stifled we are by it all.
IRIS (not smiling): Seriously — what do you talk about — art and music?
NICOLAS (joking): Constantly. Even in our sleep. (Looks at her): Are you serious?
IRIS: Perfectly.
NICOLAS (apologetic): Well, we talk about everything — politics, our friends, Althea has a weakness for string quartets — and I collect pictures of dogs down at the country house.
IRIS: Are there any string quartets tonight?
NICOLAS (taken aback): Now? I suppose so — at Carnegie Hall.
He picks up the paper — glances at her quizzically — sits down and opens the paper.
Group shot of a block of seats at Carnegie Hall, favoring Nicolas and Iris, the latter in a new dazzling dress.
We hear the last notes of a concerto, the lights come up, there is clapping and a buzz of conversation.
NICOLAS: What do you say we trade the last number for a highball?
Iris nods, reaching back for her cape.
The Gilberts’apartment: The hall. Nicolas and Iris are coming in. He flips his silk hat on a table.
Medium shot of the drawing room: The camera picks them up coming in. Nicolas is just faintly flushed and rumpled. Iris, throwing aside her cape, goes to a pier glass and mounts a stool before it.
Nicolas and Iris flop down a few feet apart on a big overstaffed sofa.
NICOLAS: Cigarette?
IRIS: Thanks. (Her hands shake.)
NICOLAS: Sleepy?
IRIS: Not exactly. I don’t want to go to sleep. I don’t want it to be tomorrow.
NICOLAS: You never liked tomorrow. When I used to talk about getting married, you’d always stop me.
IRIS: I knew we never would.
NICOLAS: This reminds me of another night too. (Iris nods.) You know the one I’m thinking of.
IRIS: Don’t let’s talk about it.
NICOLAS: Have you got unpleasant memories of it?
IRIS: Oh no, no. You know I haven’t.
NICOLAS: It was in June — hurdy-gurdies in the street.
IRIS (pointing to an imaginary chair in front of her): You sat there (pointing to the couch) and I sat here. Only my furniture wasn’t much like this.
NICOLAS: I sat there because I was frightened.
IRIS: I wasn’t — I was never so sure in my life.
NICOLAS: I didn’t sit there long. 1 came over -
IRIS: No, you got up and first you turned off the electric fan.
NICOLAS: Yes. (A pause — a gust of music from somewhere far off.) Listen -
IRIS: What?
NICOLAS: I thought I heard something — hurdy-gurdies.
IRIS: They don’t have them anymore. (Pause.)
NICOLAS: Iris.
IRIS: What?
NICOLAS: I’m frightened now. (Pause.)
IRIS: I guess now I’m frightened too.
They turn toward each other.
IRIS: Old friends, Nick.
NICOLAS: Old friends. Both very frightened.
The music again — but this time it is a hurdy-gurdy, playing far away in the street but easily distinguishable in the silence.
IRIS (wonderingly): They do have them.
Their eyes meet — this time hopelessly melting, melting irresistibly toward each other.
The dining room of the apartment: Morning. Quiet except for a raucous whistle from the pantry. A Persian cat dozes on a chair in a beam of sunshine.
Iris, in street clothes, enters and makes a short tour of the room, examining the silver on the buffet.
Close-up of Iris bending forward, looking.
Close-up of a big tankard on which is engraved, “Althea from Dick and Marion.”
Medium shot of Iris seeing the cat.
IRIS: Hello, pussy, pussy.
The cat looks at her, makes up its mind and dashes quickly for the kitchen as if a
dog were after it. At the pantry door it almost upsets the agency butler, carrying a breakfast tray. He curses silently and
sets the tray on the table. ‘
IRIS: Good morning.
BUTLER (a German, both sanctimonius and impertinent): Good morning. (He turns on the radio, picks up the tray, and hesitates by the head of the table.) Where are you going to sit?
NICOLAS’VOICE: Right there.
Camera pans to Nicolas coming into the room, his face mask-like, his eyes just faintly bothered. Camera pans him up to the table. As he starts to sit down, the radio, now warmed up, plunges into a loud jazz tune — the same tune they danced to at the Biltmore, but now raucous and jangling.
NICOLAS: And turn that off!
Butler turns to the radio, lowers the volume and turns back to the table.
NICOLAS (quietly): I said off.
BUTLER (mumbling as he obeys): Kind of cheerful.
Two-shot of Nicolas and Iris at table. Nicolas is conscious of the disrespect but can only disregard it. The butler serves them plates of ham and eggs.
NICOLAS (to Iris): Hungry?
IRIS: Not very. I’m thinking of my plans. My train goes at one.
Nicolas looks sideways at the butler: the butler turns and goes to the pantry.
Two-shot of Nicolas and Iris.
NICOLAS: You’re really going home?
IRIS: Oh yes — really this time.
Nicolas’hand falls affectionately on hers. The gesture is not quite natural now, though, and both their hands move away. There is a little constraint between them.
IRIS: You’ve given me a wonderful lime.
NICOLAS: I’m glad. (He does not seem quite glad, in spite of his effort.)
IRIS: I’ve always wanted to go behind the scenes — and see how it was. Now I have.
NICOLAS (eating): Mm-hm.
IRIS (thoughtfully): Nicolas — I want to remember this — but I want to think you’ll forget — just as if it never happened.
NICOLAS: Nonsense.
IRIS: Yes — I want you to remember four years ago, but not this time. Pretend you dreamed it.
NICOLAS: Eat some breakfast.
IRIS: Yes. (She turns to her plate.)
Close-up of Iris: Her eyes look down, then look up again, then stare.
Two-shot of Iris and Nicolas. Nicolas looks up and sees Iris’expression. As he starts to turn and see what she is staring at, the camera drops them and pans very slowly around room, including the side-board, passing it and reaching the door.
Althea, motionless, stands in the door-way, regarding them. We are seeing her in a medium shot from their angle and we hold on it a moment.
Two-shot of Nicolas and Iris from Althea’s angle: Their faces are shocked and staring.
Medium shot of Althea from their angle: She turns very slowly and disappears from the doorway.
Two-shot of Nicolas and Iris: Nicolas gets up, his lips saying, “My God,” soundlessly.
The door to the pantry: The butler is standing wide-eyed, looking into the din-ins room.
Full shot of the drawing room: Althea walks rapidly through, toward front hall and door.
The hall of the apartment: Two porters have just brought in her baggage and set it down. She walks directly past them and out the door into the hall.
The drawing room: Nicolas has just entered from the dining room, looking left and right.
NICOLAS: Althea — Althea!
The outside hall: Althea is standing with her hand on elevator bell. The elevator stops. It is empty — she walks in and the door closes.
The dining room of the apartment: Iris is standing beside the table, her napkin crushed in her hand, her face stricken and aghast. The agency butler has already begun to take off the dishes with a wise expression on his face.
BUTLER (touching her plate): Through?
Iris does not see him. Her head shakes helplessly from side to side.
Park Avenue: Morning. The camera trucks in front of Althea as she walks, looking straight ahead.
Cross street: Althea walking.
Another street: Althea walking.
A corner: A first close shot of Althea as she hesitates, not knowing where to go. Her eyes are dazed and staring as she hails a taxi. It drives up.
Plaza Hotel: Althea is getting out of the taxi.
Desk of the hotel: Althea and clerk.
ALTHEA: My mother, Mrs. Chilton, has her same rooms?
CLERK (smiles): Oh yes, Mrs. Gilbert. She’s all settled.
The lobby: The camera pans Althea to the elevator. Its door opens and passengers go in. Althea hesitates.
BOY: Going up?
Althea shakes her head and turns away. Camera trucks with her to door and picks her up coming out.
Outside hotel: Althea hesitates; her face is set, expressionless. Suddenly her hands go to her face, come down just as quickly. She starts off scene. Camera trucks before her along Fifty-ninth Street. She passes a sign, “Antoine: Coiffeur des Dames.” The camera picks up Althea approaching along the street. Her eyes fall on the sign and, still expressionless, she turns in, the camera turning with her and following her inside.
Antoine’s: By the desk. Althea is taking off her hat. The woman at the desk greets her respectfully.
CLERK: Well, Mrs. Gilbert. It’s good to see you.
ALTHEA (concentrating with difficulty): I want to get — a wave — and a shampoo.
The woman has come around the desk. She looks Althea over.
CLERK: Let’s see — you have Emile.
She puts her hand toward Althea’s hair.
CLERK (surprized). Why you — why it looks as if you’d just had a wave.
Althea starts. Her face is reflected in a pier glass as she passes her hand over her hair.
ALTHEA’S VOICE: Why, yes — I had a wave on the boat.
Her reflection disappears from the glass.
CLERK’S VOICE: Would you like anything else, Mrs. Gilbert?
The clerk stares at the door.
Interior of a taxi: Nicolas and Iris, both in control of themselves now but utterly miserable.
NICOLAS: You’ll make it all right.
IRIS: I’m not worried about the train — (Her voice breaks.} Oh, Nicolas, what have I done to you? (She sobs aloud.)
NICOLAS: Please, Iris, you were always a brave girl. You weren’t to blame and everything will straighten itself out somehow.
Interior of Grand Central: Nicolas and Iris are standing beside a chair car. A porter is handing Iris back a stub. She opens her purse to put it in and something flutters out unnoticed.
PORTER: All aboard! You dropped something.
Iris and Nicolas embrace.
IRIS: Oh, darling, I’m so sorry.
She disappears into the vestibule of the car which begins to move immediately. The porter, swinging from the handrail, points to Nicolas’feet. After a moment, Nicolas stoops and picks it up.
Insert: The program of a nightclub.
Interior of the Gilberts’drawing room: Dusk. A big window opening on the city. Nicolas is sitting near the window in the darkness but he is not immediately visible. When the doorbell rings, we see his leg move off a chair. Then his figure blocks out the window and he stands motionless as we hear a key in the lock.
The hall: As the door opens, Althea, very weary, is momentarily visible against the lights of the outer hall. She comes in, dosing the door behind her.
NICOLAS’VOICE: Althea!
ALTHEA: Yes.
Shooting into the drawing room, we see her figure approach his — then she melts into the darkness on one side and he on the other.
NICOLAS: I’ll turn on the lights.
ALTHEA: Never mind... I like the dark better.
Shooting from the window — a little light falls on each of them — enough to see his utter misery — her fatigue and despair.
NICOLAS: I want you to know that this meant nothing to me. (Pause.) Nothing at all.