account of meeting that young man? Now, Mother.
Who did you get a haircut for?
-Wonder what's keeping Helen.
-She'll be here.
-This Birnam fellow went to Cornell, didn't he?
-I believe so.
But he never graduated. I wonder why.
-How old is he?
-Thirty-three.
He has no job. As far as I can find out, he never had one.
I wish Helen wasn't so vague.
Maybe he has a little money. Some people do, you know, Father.
-He ought to have a job anyway.
-He's a writer.
Writer? What did he write? I never heard of his name.
Now Father, relax. You always expect the worst.
I hope he realizes that Helen's our only daughter and
we ought to know a few things about him.
Those'll all come out...his background,
his prospects, his church affiliations.
Hotel Manhattan? Would you please page Miss Helen St. James?
St. James. Yeah, she's in the lobby.
Helen?...Don.
Darling, I'm terribly sorry
but I won't be able to get there for a while.
Will you please go ahead and have your lunch
and apologize to your parents...
Oh, nothing serious. I'll be there. Goodbye.
Turn off that light.
Don?
-Turn it off!
-For heaven's sake, Don.
I thought you were with Helen and her father and mother.
What happened?
Come on Don.
-I couldn't face it.
-Couldn't face what? Didn't you go to see them?
Certainly I went. One o'clock sharp. I saw them all right.
-Only they didn't see me.
-How was that?
Such nice, respectable people. I couldn't face them Wick...
and all the questions they'd ask me.
I just couldn't do it. Not cold.
I had to have a drink first. Just one.
Only the one didn't do anything to me.
So you had another and another. Oh, you poor idiot, Don.
Won't you ever learn with you,
it's like stepping off a roof
and expecting to fall just one floor?
Will you call her up Wick?
Tell her something. Tell her I'm sick.
Tell her I'm dead. Will you call?
Yes, I'll call.
You know she must have written them
a lot of nice things about me.
What a gentleman I am. A prince.
Which hotel is it?
The Manhattan. Mr. and Mrs. Charles St. James
of Toledo, Ohio.
Get up, Don.
Just a minute, Helen.
-Hello, Wick. Is Don here?
-Don? No.
Any idea where he could be?
Wasn't he meeting you?
Oh, he was supposed to meet us for lunch,
then he telephoned he'd be late.
Mother's beginning to think I just made him up.
-Do you suppose something happened to him?
-Nonsense.
"Oh. But surely he'd have called back
if her were all right."
-Where did he call you from?
-I don't know.
I think I have got an idea. He called from out of town.
-Out of town? Where?
-Philidelphia.
-What's he doing in Philadelphia?
-Well, there's an opening on the Philadelphia Inquirer...
the book section and Don wrote them, he wired them
and I think this morning he just took an early train.
Oh. Why, he didn't tell me a word about it.
I, I'm not supposed to tell you either.
He wanted it to be a surprise.
-He did?
-Yes, he...
he probably couldn't meet the right people right away,
missed a train. You know how it is.
Oh, it would be just wonderful
if he got the job and started working.
Or would it, Wick,
with him in Philadelphia and me in New York?
Don't ever tell him I said that though, will you?
Of course not.
I can never understand why somebody like Don,
a person with such talent, such flashes of real brilliance...
Maybe I'm a bit prejudiced.
What are you doing, Wick?
-Nothing.
-Where did that bottle come from?
-It just rolled out.
-From under the couch.
Yes, Helen.
-You I guess that Don caught an early train and...
-Is that Don's bottle?
-What makes you think that?
-There was a bottle the first time we met.
-There was?
-Fell out of Don's pocket.
That was for me, Helen. This one's mine too.
You might as well hear the family scandal. I drink.
Don thinks I drink too much. I had to promise to go on the wagon.
That's why I hid the bottle so he wouldn't see it.
Oh. I'm so sorry, Wick.
I shouldn't have started asking questions.
It's really none