Flesh and Fantasy (1943) - full transcript

Hello, Doakes.

Oh, hello.

You mind if I take this seat?

No, no, sit right down.

Have a drink?

No, thanks, I just had lunch.

What's the matter? You
seem a little jumpy.

Have a tough night last night?

Well, as a matter of fact,
I did have a tough night,

but not the kind you mean.

I got scared.



Scared?

Well, well, you're a big boy now.

You oughtn't to get scared.

Tell me all about it.

Well, I wasn't exactly scared.

I just woke up in a cold
sweat screaming, that's all.

Oh, a dream.

Well, it was a combination of a dream

and a talk I had with a fortuneteller

at a party last night.

They ought to lock those people up.

Don't tell me you're superstitious?

Who? Me?

I'm the least superstitious
guy in the world.



Uh, but you do believe in
dreams and fortune tellers?

I do not believe in
dreams and fortune tellers.

At least, not separately.

It's only when they gang up on me

that they get me worried.

Gang up on you?

Yeah, a fortune teller at a party

tells me that I'm going to...

well, do a certain thing.

I dismiss the whole thing with a shrug,

as you're suppose to do.

Then I go home and I have a dream

that night, a very vivid dream,

the whole point of which is that

I don't do the very thing

that the fortune teller told
me I was going to do.

Well, obviously, one of
them's got to be right.

I find myself obliged to believe

in either a dream or a fortune teller

when I don't believe in
either one of them, really.

You wonder I'm jumpy.

It's a funny thing you

should've brought this up just now.

I was reading a book here last night.

I don't know whether
you've read it or not.

It's a collection of strange stories

which deal more or less
with your type of thing.

I haven't got any type of thing.

What do you mean?

Well, the interrelation of dreams

and fortunetelling with reality,

if there is any.

Now, take this first story, for instance,

do you mind if I just read it to you?

Oh, no, I've got to be
downtown before the banks close.

Oh, you've got lots of time.

I think you'll like this,

or at any rate be interested.

It begins with the finding of a suicide.

Oh, you've got the wrong
idea about my condition.

I'm not that jumpy.

I'm not in the market
for suicide stories yet.

Oh, the suicide has
nothing to do with the story.

It may not even have been a suicide.

I can't do it.

No, see, the story opens

with a rather strange group of people

finding the body of a man
who's just been drowned.

For two days, I've been
working on this costume for you!

My eyes feel like they're
riddled with needles

and you come here without a cent

and expect me to give
it to you for a present!

Henrietta, please trust me.

Only let me wear it tonight.

I swear, I'll pay for it tomorrow morning.

Then you don't get the
dress 'til tomorrow morning!

But Mardi Gras is tonight

and my sweetheart will be waiting for me.

We've been counting on it for so long.

Don't give me any sorry excuses!

I hear them all day long!

The sorrier they are
the more they curse me!

Henrietta, please,

listen with your heart.

We love each other so much.

That don't pay my rent!

You don't want anybody
else to have any loving

just because you haven't got any.

How could you?

You're ugly!

No man would ever look at you,

and if he did,

he'd sooner see a dead cotton mill!

I hate the sight of you

and everybody does, too!

All right, lady, take it easy.

Who was the first one to reach him?

I was.

Take your mask off.

What do you know about this?

Why, nothing.

I thought it was a joke

and I started to laugh.

When I touched him. ..

Look at the bruises
on the dead man's face.

He got a cut across it
like a streak of lightning.

That ain't come from being in the water,

nor on the land neither.

Murdered?

Maybe, but it ain't by nothing human.

My pappy told me about a Cajun man

who had run out through the bayou,

hollering like the devil was after him.

Only there wasn't nobody folks could see.

The next morning, they
found him all tangled up

in the mangroves, dead as swamp water,

and on his face he have
that same dead man look.

Well, how do you explain it?

Well, there's things
that hound some folks.

Makes them run to misery all their days.

Always following faster, faster,

'til it drives them to a mournish end.

Headquarters ain't never
gonna believe a story like that.

Why, that's superstition.

I don't believe it.

Couldn't he have wanted to die?

Maybe he's better off.

All right, folks, let's break it up.

Come on, break it up, folks.

Come on,
fellas, let's go over here.

Come on!

Somebody give me a hand with the body.

Yes, yes, Henrietta.

You envy the drowned man in his riverbed.

You hate the world.

You're bitter, discouraged,
weary of defeat.

You think no one will ever love you.

That the young student will
never return your smile.

That if he knew the many long nights

you've watched him in
his courtyard window,

he would leave his books,

yes, to pull down the
shade on your homely face.

You tell yourself it's
easy, over in a moment.

Just enough courage to look
at your face on the water,

then break its image
forever by plunging into it.

No, wait.

You mustn't.

It's all wrong.

Look. Look there.

Night turns into day

and Heaven opens like a glory machine.

Preposterous to kill yourself.

How do you know what the
next moment will hold?

Why, something miraculous might occur

to brighten your whole life.

Who are you?

I just came to see the excitement.

I thought it was all over.

Well, you gave me quite a turn.

Why, Hercules, that was a grand one.

I love fireworks, don't you?

I've loved them since I was knee-high.

- Leave me be.
- Oh, wait, child.

Must I go on saving you?

You'll loose all your chances

of ever getting that young fella.

How do you know about -

About him?

Oh, there's always a him.

Well, you're wrong.

I ain't doing it on his account.

Ain't it enough I was born

with this load of hate and lonesomeness?

This face, it's a curse on me.

Just look at me and talk
to me about my chances.

But why blame all that on a homely face?

If you were pretty, it would be the same.

That's easy said.

No one can prove it to me.

It can be proven tonight.

What do you mean?

Listen.

At midnight, the carnival
culminates in Lent

and the church bells admonish us

to renounce the body and the flesh.

For a few hours, it is still possible

for you to be beautiful.

Beautiful?

How?

Come with me.

Well, take your choice.

What do you fancy?

The beauty of a saint, or a sinner?

Kindness, malice, mischief, murder,

or do you want to
inspire, like Joan of Arc?

She's over there in the spice box,

or maybe you prefer the poison
beauty of Lucrezia Borgia?

There she is.

That's her own death mask.

Careful of the web.

There may be a spider in it.

I want a soft sweet look
that men seem to admire.

You spoke of a
curse that you could not escape,

but there is something
stronger than that: love.

And you must learn what it means.

And when you have learned
that it means giving

without any hope of return,

that it means creating
faith and belief in another,

then you will know the
true meaning of love.

And the young man will say to you,

"You are beautiful.

And your face is as beautiful as you are."

I don't believe it.

If I had a sweet,
appealing face like this,

I wouldn't even have to smile
to make a man look at me.

Then wear it

and you will learn the truth.

You are beginning to learn.

- I'll wear it.
- Good.

He'll smile at me.

I'm impatient to know the result.

You must promise to return the
mask at midnight, no later.

Whatever time you say.

I want your promise.

I promise.

If the shop is locked when you return,

come in the back door.

It will be left open for you.

Thank you for this one chance.

If you want to use that chance best,

go to the Cafe Mazarin.

Who is she?

I only wish I knew.

She's pretty enough to
be on a float by herself.

Sweetheart, I want you to wear my kiss

instead of that mask.

- You all right?
- Oh, thank you.

I'm sincerely grateful to you.

Well, I enjoyed it.

Gave me a chance to let off steam.

He won't bother you anymore.

A girl
must expect to be safe

when she's looking for
her escort on Mardi Gras.

Well, you're much too pretty
to be looking for somebody.

He should be looking for you.

Sometimes, I wish I were almost plain.

Maybe I better make sure you find him.

That would make sure.

Well, your arm's still trembling.

Can I get you a glass of wine?

I wouldn't want to impose.

Or do you think your
friend might object?

Oh, he'd be
the last person to object.

Are you waiting for somebody, too?

No, just waiting.

But you wait
a whole year for Mardi Gras.

Why waste it waiting?

I've never done anything else but wait.

Just working, walking, eating...

eating sometimes and sleeping,

when you have the time and
your mind would let you sleep.

But that's only...

only just waiting for life.

It's not living.

I know.

You watch other people enjoying themselves

as if you were hungry

and outside the window of a restaurant.

And you don't have
enough money to go in.

But how can you understand,

a pretty girl like you?

Oh, why, just by looking.

Watching people, you can
see into their hearts.

Tell me what you see in mine?

I can see you're not content

being just a nobody.

You wanna make something of yourself.

I wanted to be president.

You're working hard

to put yourself through law.

You stay up all hours
to study and read and -

How can you tell?

Oh, just by looking.

Observing this and that about people.

Better look again.

That's what I used to be,
but I've come to my senses.

I'm through with it.

What do you mean?

That means I'm not
going to be president.

I'm gonna be a stoker instead.

I'm sailing on a freighter.

When?

Couple of hours.

Hours?

Then my waiting will be over.

Then why not enjoy yourself?

If you've only a few
hours, they're precious.

Let's make them count.

But there isn't that much time.

I don't have any more time

and every moment is less.

Perhaps we could put our time together

and make it last twice as long?

Let's dance.

You are happy now, Henrietta.

But don't think of yourself.

Think of the hard work
he's about to throw away.

Give him the confidence he needs.

This is your real chance, Henrietta.

I'm exhausted.

Oh, Michael.

If we could only hold this night forever.

You know my name.

Yes.

How?

Maybe because
I dreamed of such a moment.

When you'd hold me in your arms,

I'd say your name over and over.

Michael.

Michael.

We've so little time.

I know.

There's only a moment left.

We must forget everything
that's gone before.

Remember nobody else after.

Michael, the freighter.

What of it?

Where is it taking you?

Nowhere.

That's just it.

It's sailing too soon to talk about.

Oh, Michael,

don't throw away your whole future.

All the hard work you've given to it,

it would be like putting
an end to yourself.

Do you think it wouldn't
be easy to let you kiss me?

There's something I want even more

and I want it for you.

Oh, Michael, you've got
to build on your studies

and become somebody.

What's the use?

I haven't a chance.

Oh, there
is a chance. Always.

With the whole world dark on both sides.

Nothing but disaster in the wind.

How do you know
what the next moment holds?

Something miraculous might occur

to brighten your entire life.

If that something were you -

No, don't think of me.

If staying here meant staying for you -

You hardly know me.

I know your voice.

The touch of your hand, your eyes,

they're what I was waiting for.

But I wanted
you to believe in yourself,

not in me.

Couldn't that be the same?

You feel that way

because you think I'm beautiful,

but it's only a mask
you see, a pretty mask.

I couldn't fall in love with a mask.

You don't
know what I look like.

I know your face is
beautiful because you are.

It couldn't be otherwise.

What is it?

What time is it?

Quarter to 12.

I must leave.

I had no idea it was so late.

I must be somewhere.

Where you going?

I'll go with you.

No, it's impossible.

But why?

If you go like this, how will I find you?

I don't know your name!

Where you live!
- Please, don't follow me.

I don't even know what you look like!

Why did you follow me?

Well, because I didn't
want to lose you forever.

Why did you run away?

Why did you come here?

I'm meeting
someone here at midnight.

You must leave before then.

Please.

Who are you meeting?

He's not here yet,

but he'll come at any moment.

Is it someone who means more to you?

Oh, no, but
you've got to forget about me.

I beg you, go, while I'm still masked.

Not unless you give me a reason

why you won't show your face.

I've got a good reason.

What is it?

I'm not anything
like what you'd believe.

I don't want you to lose your belief

by seeing me as I really am.

But you created belief in me.

That's real and includes belief in you.

You can't doubt that if
I mean anything to you.

I lied
to you from the start.

There wasn't nobody looking for me.

It never has been.

I pretended I was
beautiful to lead you on.

I'm only telling you now

because you mean so much to me.

Then you ran away because...

Yes, I tricked you.

All my life, I've been mean,
and stony, and selfish,

just like I was tonight.

I never had love or belief for anybody,

and my face is as ugly as I am.

Oh, don't shame me by making me show it.

What does it matter how you look?

I'd love your face no matter

what it is, because it's you.

Oh, please go.

I'm not asking for
myself, but for your sake.

Won't you believe in me,

in my love, enough to rely on it?

Mardi Gras is over.

Everyone is unmasking,

putting aside the body,

living in the word,
spirit, and deed of love.

You gave me belief in that miracle.

Won't you let me give you belief?

When you
learn what love really is,

that it means giving
without expecting in return,

creating faith and belief in another,

then a young man will tell you...

You are beautiful.

Your face is as beautiful as you are.

Have you so
little faith, Henrietta?

Miracles occur every day.

Look at your face.

Now freed from the mask of selfishness

and envy you have worn for so long.

Do not ever allow the beauty
within you to hide again.

What right you all got being in here?

Oh, we're
waiting for the proprietor.

What you want, waking me up this hour?

But it wasn't you.

I mean, the owner.

He has a white beard.

I'm the owner and nobody else!

And I ain't wore a beard since 1911!

And even then, it wasn't white!

It was auburn!

You're sure this is the right shop?

Nobody's been in or out
since I locked up early

and went straight upstarts to bed!

But then, who was the other?

Wasn't no other.

Now, go along and stop
waking up respectable folks

with your Mardi Gras mischief.

Go marry and get a place of your own.

Then you won't be needing no dark shop.

I'm so happy,

but it's strange.

The only strange thing is
that we haven't met before.

But we have,

almost every day.

You looked at me many times,

but I couldn't make you see me.

Why?

Because I couldn't see myself.

Well, it's a very pretty story,

but I don't quite get the tie-up.

What's it got to do with
dreams and fortune tellers?

Who's the mask supposed to be? Me?

No, I think the mask is just supposed

to tell the moral of the story.

That faith in yourself is the main thing.

I don't mean to read a sermon into it.

Well, you're doing all right, I'll say.

I'm sorry, I just mean that the decision

rests with the person himself

and no naughty old fortune
teller or dream book

has the power to make
you do anything at all.

Well, that's all very well if you can

peel your face off when the time comes.

Oh, George, would you
bring me a drink, please?

Yes, sir.

I don't know whether
my face comes off or not.

I wish it did.

About this faith in yourself, though. ..

Say, how did we get on
this subject, anyway?

What are you trying to do,

sell me insurance or something?

Yes, I'm trying to sell
you insurance of a sort.

Insurance against fear.

Insurance against yourself.

Well, I must admit, your little story

didn't help me very much.

I come to you with a problem
about which to believe

a dream or a fortune teller

and you drag in a tale about

a gal with a detachable face.

Well, that leaves me right
where I was in the beginning.

I admit that I got the
story with a moral first.

Now, these next two stories -

Next two? Oh, here we go.

George, you better bring the whole bottle

and a siphon. And plenty of ice.

I may be here quite a while.

Yes, sir.

That's the
philosophical way to look at it.

You missed the bank, anyway.

Oh, well, I wasn't going to
the bank in the first place.

I just didn't want to be read to.

I hate being read to.

Well, then here. Read
these next two yourself.

They blend right in together, you'll see.

What am I supposed to believe?

And what's your angle on
this tremendous problem,

which I wish I'd never brought up?

I haven't any angle, my dear man.

I didn't write these stories.

For all we know, they're all possible.

After all, what do we know about anything?

Well, that's a very easy way out of it.

I just wanted to know what
I'm expected to react to.

Your reaction depends
entirely on the state

of your digestion at the present moment.

Well, I can promise you
a very bad reaction then.

Uh-oh.

You have
been passing through

a very dark period.

I think it's over now.

Oh, you're leaving London
very soon for the country.

That will be better for you.

Mm-hmm, you're going to hear

from someone very dear to you.

There's no one very dear to me anymore.

Mm-hmm, you're going to
hear from your husband.

That's impossible.

It's impossible.

Oh, excuse me, please.

Well, what did he tell you?

He said I was to hear from Roger.

Isn't that thrilling?

Well, Roger Carrington has been dead

for almost two years now, hasn't he?

Yes, since spring of '31.

You know, I think you must get a kick

out of upsetting your guests.

Well, why not?

Last week, it was that spiritualist

manifesting ectoplasms all over the room.

The week before, voodoo.

Well, my liver won't permit me to drink.

I'm too old for romance

and Wendish is so beastly dull.

Not like you Americans,

we need flipping along.

Can't you find something better

to squander your money on?

African monstrosities, the realism?

Would you rather I gave it to the poor?

Start a revolution?

Ah, you play the piano.

That's right.

Lady Flora is passionately fond of music.

I think you mean musicians.

Well, they go together,
don't they, Mr. Podgers?

Why do you think I'm a fraud, sir?

I didn't say one word.

Anyway, I can tell you.

This time again, it will not be a boy.

- Huh?
- Oh, Sir Thomas,

show Mr. Podgers your hand.

Gladly.

Adventurous nature.

Four long voyages in the past.

You've been shipwrecked three times.

A note, twice, but there's
danger in the next journey.

Severe illness between
the ages and 16 and 20.

You were left a fortune at 30.

Have a great aversion
toward cats and radicals.

Extraordinary.

You must read my wife's hand.

Your second wife?

Yes.

Here you are, my dear.

Oh, you must take your glove off.

No, no thank you.

Why not?

Are you afraid?

Why should I be afraid?

I simply disapprove.

Well, that's great. So do I.

How naughty of you.

Everyone has a right to his own opinion.

May I ask why you disapprove?

Well, because if that's so,

then we human beings are nothing

but the puppets of some force or other

from which we cannot possibly escape.

Precisely.

Well, you're kidding, aren't you?

Wasn't it Hamlet who said,

"There are more things in
Heaven and Earth, Horatio,

than are dreamed of in your philosophy."

I'm no savant,

but it's very plain you're a lawyer.

Hmm.

A bang up one.

A bachelor and...

Oh, head over heels in love.

Oh, think so?

It's right there.

And the lady in question
is in love with you.

Well, you're wrong there, dead wrong.

I assure you, she is.

Well, I ought to know.

Yes, you know now.

You're a very lucky man.

Very lucky indeed.
- I must tell her.

Rowena.

Where's Rowena?

Do you see any more misinformation?

Well, let me see.

Well?

Nothing.

I see nothing, nothing at all.

Oh, please, Mr. Podgers.

But you do,
I can see by your face.

The gentleman will
go on a trip somewhere.

- On his honeymoon.
- Yes.

Yes, doubtless on his honeymoon.

Why, Rowena, what's the matter?

It's ended now, for good and all.

You mean Gerald?

I should've broken with
him months and months ago.

And now you're going
to marry Marshall Tyler.

How did you know?

Never mind.

Come along.

Young men are so disgustingly young.

Oh, yes, dear, and Marshall's
got so much more money.

I'm not thinking of money.

Of course not.

That truth is tough.

Rowena's got something

most interesting to tell you.

Yes?

What's the matter? Can I
get you something to drink?

No.

But you can marry me if you like.

Just to make a silly
prediction come true?

I mean it, Marshall.

Well, now, don't joke, Rowena.

I've waited for you so long.

But you don't have to.

It's written.

Written?

Written?

We are
interrupting this program

with an important bulletin

where it has just been received

from South Victoria and the Antarctic

that Sir Roger Carrington,

well-known explorer and his party,

have been found and all alive.

This little band of intrepid men

were given up for lost
nearly two years ago.

Roger.

We take you
now to South Victoria.

Go ahead, South Victoria.

Hello, London.

This is Roger Carrington
speaking for myself

and the members of our expedition.

All five of us are alive -
- It's Roger's voice.

- And well.
- It is.

If by any chance my
beloved wife is listening...

She's fainting, Ralph..

Get some water.

Get some water.

Hold her head like this.

Hold her head.

Pardon me, sir, your hat.

- Oh, thank you.
- Oh, Mr. Podgers?

Yes?

Mr. Podgers, I must insist

that you give me a straight answer

to a question I'm going to put to you.

Another time, sir.

I must go now.
- No, please.

Tell me what you saw there.

Tell me the truth.

What makes you think I saw

more in your hand than I told you?

I know you did and I insist
that you tell me what it was.

Now, I'll pay you. I'll
give you a 100 pounds.

What is your name?

Tyler. Marshall Tyler.

I'll be home tomorrow
evening after 6:00.

Goodbye, Mr. Tyler.

Goodbye.

Here, Sylvia.

Here, Sylvia.

Here you are.

But there's really no point

when you have no faith
in prophecy, Mr. Tyler,

when you're not prepared to
believe a single word I say.

Well, that's my business
whether I believe it or not.

Last night, you saw something in my hand.

I demand to know what it is.

I said I would pay you 100 pounds.

Yes, yes.

But you were lying.

You doubt my word?

Oh, no, not your word.

Well, my ability to pay?

Oh, no, no, no.

Everyone knows you're a very
rich man, but 100 pounds -

Yes, I know it's a lot of money,

but let's not waste any time.

Very well.

Let me see.

Hmm, quite a contradiction
in mood, aren't we?

All mixed up and intricate,

like a little Swiss watch
the size of a threepenny bit.

I'm not here to inquire into
my character, Mr. Podgers.

But character is the
label of the man, sir,

an index to everything
he is and all he will be,

and here you have it.

Perfect lawyer, vain, magnificent ego,

likes to prove that he's
right even when he's wrong.

No real convictions.

You would've made an
excellent criminal lawyer.

I'm not interested in crimes.

But you will be.

About 15 years ago -

I'm here to listen to
the future, Mr. Podgers,

not the past!
- But they're the same,

the future and the past, Mr. Tyler.

For isn't the future forever
passing into the past?

Even the next little moment, look -

Now it's the past.

Tell me what you see there.

I'm going to be married very soon.

Yeah, I was right about that.

And if you see something impending,

something that might mar my welfare,

her happiness, I want to know about it.

There are things.

Yet, sometimes better not to know.

Well, regardless of what it is,

I demand that you tell me!

You're a brave man.

Speak up, man!

What is in my hand?

Murder.

Murder?

You're going to kill someone, Mr. Tyler.

That will be 100 pounds.

Oh, yes.

You'll find your wallet on your bureau.

Yes, I'll send you a check.

Thank you.

Oh, on your way home,

it might be best to
avoid Whitechapel Street.

Goodnight.

Good evening, Mr. Tyler.

How absurd.

Ridiculous.

Well, the man's a fool, the bastard.

Cats all over the place.

What can he possibly know about me?

Stop him!

Hold that fire!

You all right, sir?

They didn't hit you, did they?

No.

Blimey, that was a close call.

Don't you think we'd better get on, sir?

No, I'll walk.

Murder someone?

Why should I murder anybody?

You're going
to kill someone, Mr. Tyler.

Hmm?

Pull yourself together.

Yes, I must.

Now, how could he
know anything like that?

He knew about Rowena and me, didn't he?

Shot in the dark.

Well, what about Sir Roger Carrington?

Coincidence.

And my wallet?

Wallet.

You're always forgetting your wallet.

Mm, Whitechapel Street.

Oh, forget it, man.

Will you put it out of your mind?

You're going
to kill someone, Mr. Tyler.

No, I will not.

You can't make me do
anything I don't want to do.

If I could only get
away from this, darling,

we'd go away someplace. Paris.

Oh, no, sorry,

but you have to kill someone.

You're going
to kill someone, Mr. Tyler.

I can't work.

I can't think.

If that's
the way you feel about it,

why not do it now?

- What?
- Get it over with.

Murder someone deliberately?

Suppose by pressing
a button you could kill

some worthless old beggar
10,000 miles from here.

Would you do it just to
get rid of this threat?

Yes, of course.

Right away.

I see.

Murder is simply a matter of miles.

Yes, but old and worthless.

Well, aren't the people right
here too old and worthless,

absolutely useless?

Who?

Perfect.

No.

Hurt Lady Pam?

Why not?

Would you miss her?

No.

Would anybody miss her?

Well, no, I can't think that...

Nobody, not a soul.

In fact, a lot of people
would be delighted.

Sure, she is selfish old wretch

who's always sick.

You would
really be doing her a good turn.

Yes, and she's pretty old.

70.

Uh, 75.

Well, what has she got left?

Hmm, a few years.

A few weeks.

Oh, a few months.

There you
are, an ideal choice.

Yes, she's always been very fond of me.

Oh, well, if you're going

to let sentiment deter you...

Oh, no, no, no, I won't.

Yes, but how?

What about a nice cup of tea?

Tea?

Poisoned, of course.

Yes, but I don't know
anything about poisons.

Well, never too old to learn.

Did you find
what you wanted, Mr. Tyler?

Yes, thank you.

Uh, saconitine is a
deadly poison, Mr. Tyler.

I hope so.

I want to get rid of a Norwegian mastiff.

Lately, he's been showing
signs of incipient rabies.

Oh.

And twice last week, he
attacked one of my clients.

Well, in that case,

I'm sure it'll be quite
all right, Mr. Tyler.

Oh, and a small
hypodermic syringe, please.

All these preparations.

I wish it were over with.

It will be soon.

Yes, if
I don't lose my nerve.

If she doesn't suspect something.

Well, what is suspicious
about medicine chocolate

packed in a charming little box?

Lovely, isn't it?

Seventeenth century.

You might suggest she leave it

to you in her will as a souvenir.

Well, that's odd, darling.

Well.

Oh, thank you, Marshall.

How sweet of you.

What a charming little box.

And how's Rowena?

- Well, she's -
- Is the wedding day set?

- Well, not quite.
- She'll make you

a wonderful wife, because
I'm sure she's not

in the least a little
bit in love with you,

so you won't run any danger

of falling out of love, will you?

And what do you think of
my little Mr. Podgers now?

Wasn't he a sensation?

Oh, it was superb!

The way he told Flora about her musicians.

You remember that horrible
little monkey of a violinist

with the dirty fingernails?

Yes, well, don't tell me
that Lady Flora and he are...

Yes.

And the Duchess of Rex was telling me

that after rehearsal
of the London symphony

the other afternoon, a
messenger from Flora arrived

saying, "Same time, same place tomorrow."

Every one of those 60 men
stood up and said, "Thank you."

Yes.

Tell me, did Mr. Podgers
tell you anything?

Oh, my future doesn't matter.

That's behind me.

It's other people's little
secrets that are interesting.

Yes.

Well, that little box has
a secret to reveal to you.

Oh, tell me.

Well, it's a new cure
for that liver of yours.

How thoughtful of you.

It was put out by an American

and they tell me it works wonders.

Is this it?

Looks like a chocolate.

I'll take it at once.
- No, no, please.

Please don't.
- Why not?

If you take it without having an attack,

it might be the end of you.

No, you'd better wait until you need it.

You'll be astonished at the result.

Very well.

I'll keep it 'til my next attack.

Yes, and when will that be?

Not for sometime I hope.

You're very sympathetic, Marshall.

Rowena's done you a great deal of good.

A world of good.

I'm going to see her now.

We were planning on getting
married almost immediately,

but as things are now,

I may have to postpone
it for a little while.

Oh, why?

Well, I have to go on a trip.

- Business?
- Well, sort of.

Well, give my love to Rowena

and thank you so much for the medicine.

Yes, you won't forget
to take it, will you?

But of course not,

and can I get any more if it works?

Well, if it works,
you won't need any more.

How wonderful.

Well, goodbye, Marshall.

Pleasant journey.

Goodbye.

- Behave yourself.
- Mm-hmm.

There's a lady to see you, sir.

Lady?

I showed her up, sir.

Oh.

Oh, Rowena.

I had to come and see you, Marshall.

Well, I have all this work to do

and I wanted to be quiet and by myself.

Yes, but you said it would
only be for a few days,

and now it's going on
for nearly three weeks.

Yes, I know.

Excuse me.

Yes?

What?

When?

This morning.

I see.

Yes, I see.

Well, Monday at three o'clock.

Who was it, Marshall?

Oh, um, my office.

What is it? You look so elated.

Well, we can go back to London now.

And?

Yes, we can get married.

- When?
- Right away.

Monday?

Oh, no, the day after.

Monday is the reading of the will.

What will?

One of my clients.

But you know her.

Lady Hardwick.

Lady Pamela? She's my godmother!

Oh, yes, of course.

What happened?

Well, she died this morning.

Oh.

Dean.

Ah, Mr. Tyler.

- How are you, sir?
- Splendid.

Very sad, this.

Very sad, very sad.

And Pamela seemed so well and chirpy.

Yes, tell me, sir, did she
suffer much towards the end?

Not at all.

Went out like a lamb.

Well, I'm very glad to hear that.

Very glad.

- Oh, Marshall.
- Yes.

Look at this enchanting little box.

Rowena, don't! Please!

Why, Marshall!

One would think it were poison!

- Poison?
- Mr. Tyler.

And you, Miss.

What the
devil? She didn't take it.

Then I haven't. ..

Apparently, she died a natural death.

Mr. Tyler.

- Well, too bad.
- "I, Pamela Hardwick..."

You'll
have to select someone else.

Yes, but there's no time.

I'm getting married tomorrow.

Well, look around. There
should be someone here.

"And do herewith will
and bequeath the following.

To my housekeeper, Mrs. Wiggins,

who has served me faithfully
for a great many years

and put up with my
tongue and my bad temper,

I give 200 pounds and
also my lavender negligee,

the one with the bustles lace,

which she has always coveted."

"To Mrs. Wiggins, also,
the expensive perfumes

on my dressing table:

unless she considers them too exotic,

in which case, she can
pass them on to her niece."

"To my two housemaids, Sally
and Agnes, 100 pounds each.

Apart from these small
tokens of affection,

I leave my entire estate to..."

Pardon me.

"I leave my entire estate

to the very Reverend Dean of Norwalk."

- What?
- "To do good works,

which is wiser, I am sure,

than to leave it to my relatives

"who never liked me, nor I them."

Dear me.

Bless my soul.

And to think, I moated all the way in,

and then to get nothing but an insult!

Poor dear, Pamela,

she always did have such
a quaint sense of humor.

A very charitable woman,

and her mind as clear as
crystal to the very end.

Now, my dear,

and now freed from all mortal tribulation,

she's attained that spiritual serenity,

that true state of peace
for which we all yearn.

Do you hear that?

And no human being
could desire a happier release.

Listen.

A swift and painless passage
into the kingdom of Heaven.

He's asking for it.

Oh, Death, thou great liberator,

"where is thy sting indeed?

See?

Death, the great liberator,

he wants to die.

Yeah, there's your man.

Oh, Mr. Tyler.

- May I come in?
- Of course, of course.

Thank you.

I'm quite alone.

Both my servants are out.

Allow me.

Thank you.

No, that's fine, there's something

I particularly want your opinion on.

Oh?

A spiritual matter, I presume.

Well, I don't know that you'd
call it spiritual exactly.

It's more a question of moral principle.

Oh.

Well, that constant
threat hanging over him,

ruining his life, his career,

everything he holds dear,

does he get blamed for taking
his fate into his own hands,

or rather for wiping it out?

The forces of the future, destiny.

A client, you say?

- Yes.
- He must be quite mad.

No, he's just as sane as you are.

A victim of hallucination?

No, no such thing.

But surely if it had been intended

that we poor mortals
should know beforehand

what is going to befall us in the morrow,

God would've provided some natural

and simple way of our knowing.

I cannot believe that
he will have entrusted

such an important matter to charlatans,

like this Mr. Podger you tell me about.

No, Mr. Tyler, the fault
lies with ourselves.

The sin is in trying to pry into

what is no mortal affair of our own.

But Matthew put it better:

"Take therefore no thought for the morrow,

for the morrows will take thought

for the things of itself."

Yes, I know.

I know all that.

"Sufficient unto the
day is the evil thereof."

Now, let me give you a drink.

Thank you.

I know the very thing.

Some of that old port you seemed to relish

when you dined with us last.

Yes, I remember.

I still have a bottle or two left.

Oh.

Oh, it's you.

You haven't seen my cellar, have you?

Honestly,
you've quite a collection.

Oh, very modest, really.

Just a few notables bottles.

Buon '94.

Tokay '21.

An 1871 port.

I inherited most of these
from my predecessor,

the late D.L. Norwalk,

the great connoisseur of wines.

There's some very fine Sherry
in that bin that he had.

Put that down, my son,

lest you harm yourself.

Good evening, Mr. Tyler.

Lovely London fog, sir.

Yeah, yeah.

Mr. Tyler?

How are you?

How am I?

How could anyone be
after what you told me?

I didn't put it there.

No, but you put it there.

But you wanted to know.

You insisted.
- Well, look again.

Perhaps you made a mistake.

Mr. Tyler, you better go home.

Get some sleep.

Perhaps you made a mistake.

Well, perhaps I did.

Come around tomorrow to see me.

No!

Now.

Now.

Yeah.

How extraordinary.

I'm afraid I owe you
an apology, Mr. Tyler.

Apology?

Yes.

Doesn't seem to be there.

Yes, it is.

It is.
- No, no, I swear.

- Liar!
- No, I tell you, it isn't!

Liar!

You are going
to kill someone, Mr. Tyler.

Hey, look out!

What is it?

I don't know, sir.

Mr. Tyler? Sir?

A murderer, he is.

What's happened?

Killed a man, he did.

Well, get a doctor, somebody.

He choked him to death

and tumbled him over the bridge.

No, I'm not a murderer.

It was written on my hand.

I had nothing to do with it.

It was a force inside me, I tell you,

pushing me, driving me.

Bound to get me to kill him.

Tightening my fingers around his throat.

Not me.

It.

You believe that, don't you?

Mr. Gaspar, what did he mean when he was

saying about something being in his hands?

I don't know.

He said there was something inside

pushing him and making him do things.

Do you suppose there's a power in there

in which we ain't got no control over?

Well, if you're crazy enough
to believe that, you can.

No, sir.

What time is it?

Oh, you got about 15 minutes to go yet.

Oh, good.

Come on, boys, get out of the way.

Come on.

I didn't mean to do it.

Did you have a dream, Mr. Gaspar?

Oh, yes.

You're on in five minutes.

Oh.

Well, we all have dreams.

Like the time I dreamed
my wife up and leaves me.

I was mighty happy

'til I woke up and found
that she was still there.

Then I dreamed
it over and over again,

and every time that I woke
up, there she still was.

It's got so now I don't pay no attention

to no dreams about her.

I just groans.

What was your dream about, Mr. Gaspar?

Hmm?

About a girl.

Uh-uh, that's bad.

Well, she'll have a hard time

catching up with you in the circus.

We're here today,

but where is we tomorrow?

That's us circus folks, isn't it?

Hiya, Paul.

- Hello.
- Hello there, Paul.

Hey, Paul, packed house tonight.

Fine.

Good luck, Paul.

Thanks.

Hello, Paul.

Oh, hello, darling.

Do good tonight, Paul.

What's the matter with him?

Well, Paul, we packed them in all right.

It's a complete sellout.

You know, we should bill
every performance as the last,

because it makes the public...

What's the matter?

Don't you feel well?

Hmm?

Yes, yes, I feel fine.

I had a dream just now.

What kind of a dream?

I dreamt that I fell.

What?

Well, Paul, if you feel
uneasy about doing the act -

No, no, don't be silly.

Never mind.

Ladies and gentlemen,

your attention please.

You're about to witness
the most dangerous,

the most daring, the
most breathtaking feat

ever performed by mortal man.

The Great Gaspar, ladies and gentlemen,

the Great Gaspar, that drunken gentleman

of the tightrope, is
going to jump from a wire

75 feet in the air to
another wire 10 feet below,

without a net, ladies and gentlemen,

without a net.

Please, keep your eye on the Great Gaspar.

What's the matter?

He lost his nerve.

Make him come down.

Huh?

Dancers! Dancers!

Quick, get out of the way!

Everybody get out of the way!

Dancers, go on out there!

I cannot understand what happened.

I couldn't even see the wire.

Maybe you think I'm crazy,

but it was all I could
do to make that platform.

I can't imagine a dream
upsetting you like this.

Well, if I had a dream like that -

Jeff, get out.

Yes, sir.

Look, Paul.

We're sailing for New York tomorrow.

You can decide what you want to do.

The worst thing that could happen to me,

I could dream and fall out of bed,

but you are the star of the show.

And I don't want to lose you.

So come along to the States

and you can think it over on the boat.

Then, if you feel that you've
got this dream stuff beat,

you can do your regular
act, or do it over a net.

- What?
- But if you feel

the dream has got you,

why go back to your old act?

It's up to you.

Don't be absurd.

I've worked for years to get where I am.

I'm not going to let a silly dream get me.

Well, it takes all your
nerve to do it at best.

And after all, you only
have to be wrong once.

I can hear her screaming even now.

Hear who screaming?

The girl.

Oh, that's right, I didn't tell you.

There was a girl in my dream.

I saw her all the way down, screaming,

and those strange earrings she wore,

shaking as if they were alive,

as if they wanted to scream, too.

Oh, I beg your pardon.

Oh, I beg your...

It is you.

No, no, please.
- Let me go.

Don't be frightened.

I'm the one who should be afraid.

I'm sorry, it's late and I'm very tired.

No, no wait.

One moment, please.

Try to remember.

Haven't we met somewhere before?

Never. If you don't leave
me, I'll call for help.

Well, in the circus perhaps?

I'm a performer, an aerialist.

My name is Paul Gaspar.

Perhaps you've seen me.

I haven't been to the circus
since I was a little girl.

Well, then somewhere else.

In London, Monte Carlo?

Oh, please try to think.

I tell you, we've never met.

Well, in Paris then.

Naples, Cairo, somewhere?

It would explain everything.

I've never been in any of those places,

and now that that's settled,
will you let me alone, please?

Wait.

Oh, yes, it's even more...

It's even more wonderful.

You're certainly giving
an old act a new twist.

Wonderful.

Look, I saw you night
before last, in a dream

as clearly, as vividly as I see you now.

What?

Yes, I'd fallen asleep
in my dressing room

a few minutes before the performance.

In my dream, I saw your face distinctly.

I was doing my act on the wire.

You screamed and I fell.

You understand now?

I fell.

And yet, here I am and here you are.

You're just imagining things.

Your earrings, where are they?

You have them, of course.

What earrings?

What are you talking about?

I saw them when I was falling.

Odd earrings,

shaped like two little lyres,

jewels flashing in the floodlights.

What do you want? Why
are you following me?

I'm not following you.

We just met, as you know.

You have the earrings, haven't you?

No, it's none of your business.

But you believe me now, don't you?

Why should I?

After all, it was only a dream.

It might be been any girl.

But the earrings, Miss...?

Stanley.

Joan Stanley.

Joan.

If you really believe
you saw me in your dream,

I should think you'd want to avoid me.

Yes, I should, shouldn't I?

Yes.

I might bring you bad luck.

Yes, you might.

How about dining with
me tomorrow night, hmm?

Of course not.

- Hello.
- Oh.

Cocktail?
- No, thank you.

Later.

Oh, Paul.

I just received a cable
from our publicity man,

Harrison, in New York.

What'll I tell him?

What about?

Your act.

Oh.

Well, if I go back to my old act,

would it make any difference to you?

Well, you know what I think about it.

It's senseless to risk
your neck every night,

and besides, I'm not so
sure the public likes it.

Did you ever recognize a
place you'd never seen before?

What?

Yes, I mean, you come to
a place for the first time.

You know you've never been there before,

and yet, everything
you see looks familiar.

Did that ever happen to you?

I never come to a place the first time.

Wherever it is, I've already been there.

What time is it?

8:25.

Shall we eat?

No, I'm dining out tonight.

Yeah, I know.

Fast work.

Who is she?

Someone I met last night.

And you're sure she's coming?

Well, she's only said no three times

and she knows I'm waiting here.

Mr. Gaspar?

Yes.

For you, sir.

See you later, King.

Yes.

You know, if we want to have

a cocktail before dinner,
we'd better hurry.

It's half past 8:00.

Didn't you get my note?

Yes, I was afraid you might be ill.

It's nice of you to be
so concerned about me,

but I'm dining alone.

Oh, is he here?

- Who?
- I don't know.

Whoever prevents our
having dinner together.

I don't understand.

Well, you know, it didn't
occur to me last night

that after all, you might
not be traveling alone.

I am traveling alone.

Oh.

Well, then perhaps it
is that you do not care

to be seen with circus people.

I'm sorry.
- Don't be absurd.

As a matter of fact, I
admire them very much.

It takes plenty of courage

to do an act like yours every night.

Who told you about my act?

Your manager, Mr. Lamarr.

When?

This afternoon.

I asked him if it was dangerous

and he said it was.

At your last performance
in London, you didn't jump.

Now, what are you going to do?

Have dinner with you.

No, I mean in New York.

Are you going on with your act?

I don't know.

I have another act ready.

Less dangerous.

Almost as effective.

You see, I'm not as brave as you think.

Aren't you taking a risk
in insisting on seeing me?

If I am, it's a charming one,

but I've been thinking.

Have you ever met somebody
for the first time

and felt sure that you had met before?

- Yes.
- Well, that's what happened

to me last night when I saw you.

I recognized you at once
as the woman of my dream.

The woman with the earrings?

Yes.

You must have thought that was crazy.

Oh, mind you, it's quite possible

that I did see those earrings somewhere.

I see you travel quite a lot, too.

Shepherd's Hotel Cairo.

I was there in '29.

And you?

Remember?

Remember the scent of cinnamon and amber

when the wind blows in from the north?

I remember the perfume of
orange blossoms in Palestine

on the road to Jericho.

Monte Carlo, I remember
the magical moonlight

over the sea from the terrace.

I remember Amalfi.

The fishermen's song at twilight

as they sail their little
black boats for home.

Amalfi?

I spent the winter there the same year.

I had already left.

Oh.

Who are you?

Won't you tell me?

The woman of your dream.

Why did you ask Lamarr all
those questions about me?

Curiosity.

Oh, I see.

So you can ask questions.

I'm sorry.

Now, look, if I promise
not to ask anymore questions,

will you dine with me tonight?

I'm not hungry.

That's very sad.

I'll have to have dinner all by myself.

At least if...

Are these the ones?

Shaped like two little lyres?

Is this a dream, too?

I have never worn these earrings before.

Never?

Never.

Then it was you.

You see, we were bound
to meet on this boat.

I guess it is strange.

Four hours before sailing,

I didn't know I would leave.

What happened?

Oh, lots of things.

Circumstances.

I had to leave.

Destiny.

Does it scare you?

You're the one who should be scared.

You really think I should be?

It may be that I misunderstood my dream.

Perhaps it was a flare
lighting my way to you.

Darling, I must have
been searching for you

for such a long, long time.

We've been in so many

wonderful places together, haven't we?

Remember Palestine? The perfume

of orange blossoms on the way to Jericho?

Uh-uh, I remember Monte Carlo, the magic

of moonlight on the terrace.

Remember Amalfi?

The fishermen's song at twilight?

No.

No, I don't remember anything.

I don't want to remember anything.

The past is gone and tomorrow...

Don't let me think of tomorrow.

Sad, darling.

What were you thinking about?

About you.

Does that make you sad?

Yes.

Why?

I don't know.

Perhaps...

Hmm?

Perhaps I was wishing we had met sooner.

Why do you say that?

Is there someone else?

You mustn't ask me.

Don't you think I should know?

Well, it doesn't really matter.

What?

We land tomorrow.

The end of a journey.

Well, of course, the
end of a journey, yes,

but not the end of us.

Two more and we'll be in
New York together, darling.

No, no, I won't see you after we land.

Oh, this has been wonderful, Paul,

but tomorrow it must end.

What?

What? You don't mean that.

- I do, I do.
- You can't.

Perhaps it's better.

Let's not spoil our last moments together.

Let's walk.

Why, Miss Templeton.

This is indeed a surprise.

I didn't know that you were aboard.

I'm afraid you've made a mistake.

But don't you remember?

We met in Cairo at Shepard's -

Sorry, you're mistaken.

Oh, I beg your pardon.

I was sure.

Sorry.

You're not hiding
something from me, are you?

Good Heavens, you don't
think you're the only man

I've ever had a casual flirtation with?

Well, I didn't mean to offend you.

I'm sorry.

Do you call ours a casual flirtation?

Do you?

Well, we certainly met casually enough.

But I don't understand you.

We've been so close the last three days

and now you act as if you
wish we had never met.

Oh, I don't mean to do that.

Then what do you mean?

Well, thousands of people meet

on shipboard and like each other.

I'm glad we met, Paul.

It's been very sweet,

and maybe I do love you a little,

but we land tomorrow.

Well, I'm afraid this man
from Cairo has disturbed you.

I don't know why you're
asking all these questions!

I'm not asking you any questions!

You are and I won't
stand for it, I won't!

We've had what we've had and
that's all there is to it!

Good morning, Miss Templeton.

Good morning, Miss Templeton.

Miss Templeton.

Your name is Joan Templeton, isn't it?

My name is Joan Stanley.

Your name is Joan Templeton.

Wait!

Wait!

Yes?

Steward,
sir. I was just passing.

I thought I heard you call.

Oh, no thank you.

I was dreaming.

Miss Joan Stanley?

Yes, thank you.

- Next please.
- Passport.

- Yes, sir.
- Name?

- Taylor.
- I'll put this

with the rest of your luggage.

Paul.

- Mm.
- I was looking for you.

Come over here.

Paul, I wanted to tell you how
sorry I am about last night.

- Last night?
- I didn't wanna

go away without letting you know.

Oh, I've forgotten about that.

Joan, we're friends, aren't we?

Well, of course we are.

Of course we are.

I mean, if I can help you,

if in any way you need me...

Thank you, Paul.

Someday soon, if you still
remember me, we'll meet again.

They'll be waiting for me.

Goodbye, Paul.
- No, don't go!

You mustn't.
- Why?

Well, I mean, I'll go with you.

You see, I don't want to let you go.

Are you expecting somebody?

Oh, some relatives I was
hoping I wouldn't have to meet.

Taxi.

You see, no one came.

Plans are foiled.

I'm all you have left.

Goodbye, Paul.

Oh, darling, I know a
little bar on 52nd Street.

Can you make it at one o'clock for lunch?

- No, Paul.
- Well, at three o'clock then?

No.

What about dinner, eight o'clock?

No, darling.

But you'll come tomorrow
night for the opening?

You seem very cheerful.

I am.

Have you ever been happily disappointed?

Did something happen?

No, something did not happen.

How do you do?

Uh, Paul, you know, I've been thinking.

Maybe you ought to rehearse that

old act of yours before you go on.

You haven't done it in a long time.

Oh, that's right.

All right.

Wait a minute.

Old act?

What old act?

I'm doing my regular act.

You've changed your mind!

I thought you said -
- Never mind what I said.

I'm doing my regular act.

Paul, you're not going to do it.

I never said I wouldn't.

And you want me to come?

Of course, you've got to come.

You know what may happen if I'm there.

Yes, I'll be terribly happy.

No, no, I mean,

what about your dream?

Dreams lie, I know.

I know that now.

You'll come, won't you?

I don't know.

Goodbye, darling.

Bye, darling.

Thank you.

Get me a taxi, please.

Well, that beats me.

So you're not afraid of that dream?

Will you stop annoying
me with your dreams?

My dreams?

There is nothing to that stuff, King.

I've looked into it.

Good luck, Paul.

Thanks.

The most daring,

the most breathtaking feat

ever performed by mortal man.

The Great Gaspar, ladies and gentlemen.

The Great Gaspar,

that drunken gentleman of the tightrope,

is going to jump from a
wire 75 feet in the air

to another wire 10 feet below

without a net, ladies and gentlemen,

without a net.

Keep your eyes, please,
on the Great Gaspar.

Well, King, what did I tell you?

I'm sold! From now on,
you couldn't frighten me

with a nightmare.

Come on.

Where is Mr. Gaspar's
dressing room, please?

Straight through the menagerie tent,

first trailer on the left.

Miss Stanley.

You don't happen to know
a guy named Joe Templeton?

Yes.

- This you?
- Yes.

Did you know that Joe
Templeton was arrested in London?

I knew that.

I suppose you were trying to get away.

Yes, I was.

Well, you wouldn't have gotten very far.

We got a letter down at
headquarters about you.

I know, I sent it.

You really sent it?

Yes, I said I was going
to give myself up tomorrow.

Had me worried for a while,

but you sure finished in the groove.

Thank you, Jeff.

Out you go now.

- Huh?
- Out you go.

Oh, yes, sir.

You know, it isn't easy to
break from the Templeton bunch.

Something sure must have happened

to make you change your mind.

It did.

He's in that trailer.

I guess I met the right
man at the wrong time.

Do you mind if I say goodbye?

You see, I was planning on
spending a little while with him.

You can trust me.

Yes, I think we can.

Thank you.

Okay.

Darling, you did come.

You see, nothing happened.

Now, where shall we go to celebrate?

Paul, I...

I can't go with you tonight.

What?

Not tonight, my dear.

Oh, I do want to so,

but I can't.

I didn't know 'til just
a little while ago.

Something happened and I must go away.

I was hoping I wouldn't
have to go until tomorrow,

but perhaps it's better this way.

I see.

Trust me, Paul.

Believe in me.

Believe that I love you

and I'll always love you.

It won't be for long.

Then, if you still want me -

I'll always want you.

I had a dream, too, on the boat.

Oh, not while I was asleep.

The most beautiful dream I ever had.

And maybe it will come true.

If you want it to, it will.

I've never wanted
anything more in my life.

You understand, Paul, don't you?

I must go.

Yes, darling, I understand.

You must.

I knew you would go.

How?

I just knew...

and I know that someday
soon, we'll meet again,

as if for the first time.

- Well?
- Well.

Well, what happens next?

What do you think happens?

Well, I should think everything
would work out all right

after the young lady gets out of jail.

The tightrope walker's
found that his dream

about falling didn't come true,

so he's sure of himself again.

Yes, but his dream about

the young woman getting
arrested did come true.

What happens the next
time he tries his act?

Well, he can't go on pampering himself

like that all his life.

He's got to make up his mind sometime,

whether he's being governed
by his dreams or not.

You know who you sound
like now, don't you?

Sure. You.

All right, so you snapped
me out of my jitters.

You and two-thirds of a bottle of Scotch.

And I drink to you, sir,
and to self-reliance,

and to jolly old integrity,
and to no more bad dreams.

No, no, no don't do that.

Why not?

Never drink out of a glass
held in your left hand.

Didn't you know that?

Now you're the one who's
superstitious.

Let me give you some advice, chum.

Forget all these old bug-a-boos.

Dreams and fortune tellers,

and drinking out of your
left hand, it's debunked.

It's superstition, that's what it is,

and superstition is for gypsies, huh?

Superstition is for...

So long.
- Take care.