Hello there, is this the house? l've been trying to get you.
Michael, do you realize it's 5:30 in the morning?
-Who is it, Agatha? -That Michael.
We had a party last night and the last guest hasn't driven out of the driveway.
Take it. Take it.
Hello? Kitchen.
-Lucy speaking. Yes, Miss Ann. -Yes, l know. l know.
What's that racket? The telephone's been ringing all over the house.
l'll talk to him.
Michael, what do you mean at this unholy hour of the morning?
Well, good morning, Miss Ann.
Cheerful morning, isn't it? l was wondering if l might talk to Miss Judith.
No, you certainly might not. She hasn't had two hours' sleep yet.
l wouldn't disturb her for the world.
This is Miss Judith Traherne of the sleepy Trahernes.
ls it, now? Well, this is Mr. Michael O'Leary of the wide-awake O'Learys.
You have a cash customer for the colt. We can get 1 0,000 if you're quick.
lf you mean Challenger, not 1 0 and not 20.
My head's just woozy, not vacant.
lf you don't mind my saying so, Miss Judith. . .
. . .it's better if you take charge of the ribbons. . .
. . .and leave the handling of the horses to me.
l do mind your saying so. l gave you your orders last night, Michael.
l ought to slap that man's face.
He's impertinent sometimes, but what can we do?
He's about the best trainer money can buy.
-l suppose he is. What time is it? -About 5:30.
Good morning, Martha. Hello, Daffy, come on.
-We're going to the stable, Martha. -Are we?
Couldn't you go back to bed and get a little sleep?
-Will you get us some coffee, Martha? -Yes, miss.
Well. . .
. . .here we go. Come.
-You asleep? -lt's a nice world if we can stay in it.
-What do you mean? -Better let me drive.
-No! -Give me that.
l will not.
Good morning, ladies.
-Oh, l managed to get you up, did l? -Don't be fresh.
l hear you've got the finest horses in the country.
Least you could do is let them have a look at you.
Surely if the horses can get up early to run and jump. . .
. . .you can get up to watch them.
Michael, really!
-Hello, Judith. -Hello!
-Hello, Jones! -We're gonna be killed someday.
-Ann, come here. -Thanks for the lift.
Take it away, Bob.
-l wouldn't stand for it. -l won't.
-He's got to be fired. Right now. -He's going to be.
Thinks he can lead us around like horses. Ann, fire him.
Me? l'm not the mistress here, l'm only the secretary.
But, darling, you have the character. You're always telling me so yourself.
-Judy! -Hello, everybody.
Good morning, Alec!
-Oh, what a party. -Glad to see you're still on it.
All ready for tonight. All l gotta do is change the orchid.
-Good morning, Ann. Nice, sensible Ann. -Good morning, parasite.
Why not go to bed before they put you there for good?
Well, now, confidentially, it's a scheme.
Your man Michael told me he'd give me a nice fat commission. . .
. . .if l can get our sweet Carrie to buy your colt, Challenger.
-Michael? -And l can use the cash.
-This is the end! -Judy, darling.
l will take that colt off your hands if you'll let me have a bargain.
l won't sell the horse, but l'll sell his trainer.
That's who she really wants to buy, but he won't even look at her.
-l've never heard of such a thing! -Judith. . .
-. . .do you want to sell that colt? -No, l do not! Colonel, dear.
l think you ought to buy him, colonel. He's a perfect darling.
You can even invite him for tea.
He could play on your front lawn with your children and your dogs.
He's a love. He whinnies.
Unfortunately, a steeplechaser has to have more than just a pretty smile.
Colonel Mantle, my father held that foal up in his arms and said:
''Judy, here's a champion. By Victory--''
''Out of Field Nurse by Man O' War. Let's call him Challenger. ''
Catch that horse at the two-mile pole. . .
. . .with his heart bursting and he'll fold up on you.
Michael, you might fold up, and l might fold up. . .
. . .but that horse has the breeding.
That was for me, l take it.
l told you l wanted to run him. Where is he?
-He's in his stall having his morning tea. -Well, go bring him up here.
When l tell you to do something, do it.
Yes, mum.
That head again?
lt comes and goes.
-l'll show him if that horse has courage. -What are you going to do?
Michael. . .
. . .how long have l had you?
-One month and three days. -Remind me to think about firing you.
l don't think you'll be firing me. We're going to get on together.
Just because l called your little darling a coward--
Someday, you'll learn that courage is in the blood.
Now, take your little horse and run along.
Good riding, Judy!
What's the matter with him? l haven't seen. . . .
-Well, how are you feeling now? -Oh, fine.
-How's the shoulder? -All right.
How you escaped being hurt, l'll never know.
-Ann, do you know something? -What?
That colt didn't throw me. l threw him.
-What are you talking about? -You know what happened?
l saw two jumps. l tried to take him over the wrong jump.
You saw two jumps?
Yes, that's what it was.
lt was the ghastliest feeling. Everything went fuzzy.
Why didn't you tell Dr. Parsons these things?
Oh, poor old befuddled Parsons. You know what he always says:
''My dear, you've been staying up too late smoking. ''
And the house is always filled with gangs of people and--
lf only he knew what happened last week at the Colony.
What happened at the Colony?
An old lady was coming through. l knocked her umbrella out of her hand.
-Why? -Someone said l was drunk.
Another time, coming out of Helene's on Park Avenue. . .
. . .l ran into a woman with her dog on a leash.
-l ran right into the leash. -Oh, Judith--!
l didn't hurt the dog, but the woman was furious.
Confidentially, darling, this is more than a hangover.
lf you don't tell Parsons these things, l will.
No you won't, Ann.
You're my best and my truest friend, and you won't tell a soul.
l wouldn't have told you except. . . .
Well, l won't have a dumb animal blamed for my mistake.
Yes, Elizabeth, what is it?
-Dr. Parsons is here. -Dr. Par--?
l promised him you'd go to a specialist about that giddiness.
But l haven't any time for doctors. Martha, bring my things.
Listen, darling, you may be really ill.
l haven't time to be ill. lt's just some minor nonsense.
Very well. lf you're going up to town, l'm going.
l won't have another tumble ruin your pretty clothes.
Don't be silly. l'm perfectly all right alone.
Oh, you're as stubborn as a mule.
-Are we ready? -She says she's not going.
Thank you, Martha.
Darling, l've got so much to do.
You have the big specialist examine her.
Goodbye, children.
Careful.
No, l'm sorry, Dr. Parsons, l'm afraid it would be useless.
Dr. Steele has closed his office, you know.
Permanently. No, he's not coming back.
-You're welcome. -Sounds good, eh, Wainwright?
-l'm gonna cry in a minute. -l gotta be out in 45 minutes.
What shall l do with this case of Dr. Parsons'?
He's worried. He asked me to hold you here by force if necessary.
You tell Dr. Parsons l waited nine years to catch this train.
l'm not gonna miss it just because some nitwit fell off her horse.
Listen to this:
''Miss Judith Traherne, daughter of the late sportsman and wire manufacturer. ''
-lmagine putting that in a case history. -You have Dr. Carter waiting for you.
Say, l'm awfully sorry, doctor. l believe when l left, you were calling me an idiot.
The boys at the club were talking about you.
-They won't believe it. -What?
A man in your position giving up a practice like this.
Joe, what do you know about brain surgery?
Well, l think if l had the surgical courage, l'd be in it.
To go inside a human's skull. . .
. . .and tinker with the machinery that makes the whole works go.
-That is romance, isn't it? -Romance, huh?
There's your romance.
-Florist bill? -Yes.
Flowers for my last patient. He was a gifted young composer.
The night before the operation, he started a new composition.
He didn't finish it.
-Maybe you read about it in the papers. -Yes.
The operation was a brilliant success. But the patient just happened to die.
-That's a pretty old joke, Fred. -ls it?
Look at any brain surgeon's mortality rate. . .
. . .you'll find out just how unfunny it is.
Are you quitting because you've lost your nerve?
What?
-What else can a man think? -l'm going back to medicine.
-What do you mean, medicine? -A little laboratory on a farm in Vermont.
Medical Research Bureau is backing me. Fisher will do the pathology.
lncidentally, the best man in the country.
How many men would give their eyeteeth for a practice you're throwing away?
-What is this research, actually? -Cells.
-Cells? -Brain cells.
Why do healthy, normal cells go berserk, grow wild? Do you know?
-No. -Nobody knows!
But we call them cysts and gliomas and tumors and cancers.
We hope to cure with the knife when we don't even know the cause.
Our patients have faith in us because we're doctors and. . . .
Tell the boys they can split up my practice. And welcome.
You and Pasteur.
Someday, somebody will discover a serum that will be to these growths. . .
. . .what insulin is to diabetes and antitoxin is to diphtheria.
And maybe earn his title of Doctor of Medicine.
-Yes? -Dr. Parsons is here.
-He is? -He insists.
Well, l suppose l should be polite.
-l must be going. -Your train.
Yes, l know.
-So long, Fred, old boy. You'll be back. -Don't hold your breath.
-Good luck, old man. -Thanks.
-Fred, can't you put this thing off? -Sorry, doctor, l've closed my office.
-Have you read the case history? -Oh, you mean this gossip sheet?
-A wire manufacturer's daughter? -Oh, please, never mind that.
This girl's desperately ill.
l've been watching her like a hawk, and she's been losing ground each day.
Well, if two minutes will do you any good, l'll talk.
-What's this about headaches? -She's been having them persistently.
-Even before the accident, l suspect. -Before?
She calls them hangovers.
Three weeks? And you wait until now?
You don't know that girl. She's a very stubborn patient.
Only yesterday she went to a revival of Cyrano in the afternoon. . .
. . .and played bridge half the night. She won't cooperate.
-She won't even tell me anything. -Won't talk, huh?
Fred.
We're old friends, and l'm desperate.
l brought this little girl into the world. Took care of her father until he died.
lf she's such a great horsewoman, why was she thrown?
That's it. lt was a queer sort of accident.
She crashed into the right wing of a jump. . .
. . .almost as if she'd held her horse deliberately at it.
l was there. l saw it.
-You're sure it was the right side? -Yes. Why?
ln that case, your best bet is to get in touch with Findlay.
-Findlay's in Europe. -All right. Then get Park.
l don't want Park or any of the rest of them.
Hang it all, they're no better than l am. l want you.
lf l start making exceptions, l'll be stuck here another nine years.
Fred, you're always talking about the obligation of doctors to humanity.
-Well, Fred, there is humanity. -Sorry, doctor.
lt can't be done.
-l told you l've closed my office. -This is ridiculous.
-l'm late already. -Judy, please.
This is Dr. Steele.
-How do you do? My name's Traherne. -How do you do?
Judith Traherne, or don't names matter?
To that cold, scientific eye of yours, we're just guinea pigs, aren't we?
-Glad to have met you. Come on, Ann. -Where did you get those burns?
What burns?
Your right hand. Here, between the first two fingers.
l never noticed them before.
l see. Will you come in here a minute, please?
Come along, Judith.
-You wait. -Let me have this, will you, doctor?
l'll see Miss Traherne.
-When it's time to go, warn me. -Certainly, doctor.
Oh, just a moment, doctor.
l haven't much time.
Matter of fact, l haven't much time myself.
Parsons tells me you're a great hunter.
You could hardly expect me to enter your office leading a pack of hounds.
Please.
l understand you don't like to talk about your health.
-That's right. -Any particular reason why?
-lt's just a boring subject, that's all. -Oh, most people love it.
l make my living by listening.
-Then you're wasting your time. -l'll send you a bill.
l'm 23 years old, an only child.
l weigh 1 1 0 pounds, stripped.
l've had measles, mumps and whooping cough.
l believe l have no congenital weaknesses.
-Shall l go on? -Oh, yes, please.
My father drank himself to death. My mother lives in Paris.
l take a great deal of exercise. l'm accustomed to tobacco and alcohol.
l'm said to have a sense of humor.
ls that enough?
All the inconsequential facts.
Thank you.
What are the consequential ones?
-Does that light bother you? -Not at all.
-Do you use your eyes a great deal? -l generally keep them open, doctor.
What do you do on Long lsland?
Horses, dogs, shooting, yachting, travel, parties, gossip.
All the pleasures of the station-wagon crowd.
-You don't think much of that, do you? -No, not much.
Why not?
lt just doesn't appeal to me.
You condemn everything that doesn't appeal to you?
Oh, by no means.
You asked for my opinion, and l gave it.
Well, anyway, that's my racket.
-What's yours? -Mine?
Brain surgery, large practice, about 1 0 days off every summer.
Sounds awful.
-lt is. -Then why do you do it?
Like yourself, l've been caught in a racket.
Oh, doctor, what a relief to know that you're no better than l am.
Thanks.
But you see, l'm clearing out of my racket.
l'm leaving for Vermont in about 1 5 minutes.
You don't mean that narrow, pinched-up state on the wrong side of Boston?
-That's the one. -No kidding?
-No kidding. -What will you do, between yawns?
-You wouldn't be interested. -Oh, come now.
After leading me on like this. . . .
-Scientific research on cell growth. -ln guinea pigs?
-No, just cells. -Sounds silly.
So l'm told.
Still, l almost envy you. Must be nice to believe in what you're doing.
-Don't you? -Not in the way you do.
Oh, l'm not complaining.
Take it all in all, they've dealt me a very good hand.
l'm young, l have no particular responsibilities.
l don't intend to cultivate any either. One's freer without.
l shall probably marry someday. No hurry about that.
When l do, l shall build a house on a ridge l know with a glorious view.
l have my horses. Any luck, l'll have about 40 years of that.
l think that's a pretty good setup.
That light was bothering you.
-There's nothing wrong with my eyes. -You were squinting.
-l was not squinting. -l'm sorry, but you were.
Well, suit yourself. lt's your office.
What did you do yesterday?
l played bridge in the afternoon, l went to the theater in the evening.
Other way around, wasn't it?
-Yes, l guess it was. -What was the play?
-Cyrano, wasn't it? -Yes, why?
Did you like it?
-l had such an awful headache, l-- -How long have you had headaches?
Oh, l. . . .
-l don't have them. -You have one now.
No, l have not.
How did you make out at bridge yesterday?
-Let me think-- -Quickly!
-l don't remember. -l know, you lost.
-Yes, l lost. -How much?
How can l remember? l play bridge every day.
-Losing a lot lately? -Yes.
-Playing badly? -Well, l--
-Forgetting what cards are out? -Why do you ask stupid questions?
Wait.
Did Dr. Parsons say you could go out yesterday?
-l'm accustomed to looking after myself. -But you did disobey his orders.
-What if l did? -Why pay a doctor, then disregard him?
Someone else called him.
-So you're taking orders from someone? -l've never taken orders from anyone.
l'll never take orders from anyone.
l'll tell you something else. l'm well, absolutely well.
l'm young and strong. Nothing can touch me.
Neither you nor Dr. Parsons can make an invalid out of me. l'm going.
Wait!
l'm sorry to have wasted your time.
Run away because you're frightened.
-That's not true. -Yes, it is true.
That's why you held certain things back from Dr. Parsons.
You were afraid to admit them.
You didn't tell him you've been having these headaches for months.
But you have.
Lately, they've been getting worse, until now you're never free of them.
And your eyes, they've been cutting up too.
Just like somebody shutting a pair of folding doors. . .
. . .till your vision is almost cut in half.
You pretended it was your imagination, but it isn't.
Then that queer, dull feeling in your right arm.
You can't laugh that off.
l'll tell you how you got those burns on your fingers.
A cigarette.
You didn't feel the burns because your nerves are paralyzed.
Your memory is all shot to pieces. You can't concentrate.
Look at your bridge scores.
And you're irritable because your nerves are all on edge.
You won't admit it, but you can't deny it. Can you?
Now l think we'll get somewhere. Come on.
Now just hold my hand with your right.
Now squeeze. Tight.
Come on. Good and tight.
That's it, good. Now the left.
That's right.
Now would you mind removing your coat?
l'm afraid this coat is all there is.
Just sit up here, then, would you?
That's it. Maybe we can move this sleeve.
-Yes. -Just a second.
Miss Wainwright.
Nothing in here to bother you.
-Nearly time, doctor. -l know, l know.
Now, give me your right elbow, please. Just relax.
Now the left.
Good. Now will you cross your knees, please?
-That always makes me laugh. -lt is silly, isn't it?
Good. Now the left, please.
Now don't be frightened of this. lt's just an electric light.
You're very kind to your guinea pigs, aren't you?
Just look straight ahead, please.
l've been told they're a nice color.
-Do you agree? -Just once again, please.
That they're a nice color?
Oh, yes. Yes, fine.
l'm going to ask you to close them.
Hold your hands out, palms upwards, please.
Now tell me what this is.
-lt's a cube. -Hard or soft?
-Hard. -Good.
Now can you tell me what this is.
-l'm not quite sure. -l see.
Just a minute. Tell me what that is.
Move it around in your hand. Know what shape it is?
l can't quite make out.
-Can you tell me what this is? -A pencil, silly.
That's right.
-May l open my eyes now? -No, no. Not yet.
Here.
ls that cloth rough or smooth?
-lt's a piece of silk. -l see.
l'm going to fool you this time. What's this?
You can't fool me. lt's still a piece of silk.
-All right. You can open your eyes. -Am l promoted, teacher?
Now l'm going to ask you two more questions.
How long since you first noticed the headaches?
Oh, horrible months ago.
About five or six.
-Your eyes been bothering you that long? -That's only lately. The last few weeks.
Well, that's a big help.
-Now l-- -lf you don't leave immediately. . .
. . .you'll miss that train.
-Cancel the tickets. -Doctor--
There are other trains on other days.
-Yes, doctor. -Thank you.
A few days one way or the other doesn't matter.
-l'm sorry l'm so difficult. -You were a good sport.
lf l weren't that, doctor, l'm afraid l wouldn't be much of anything.
Tell me.
What's wrong with me?
ls it my eyes?
l'd be a pretty poor excuse for a doctor if l told you before l was positive myself.
Anyway, l want you to have some x-rays taken, lots of them.
Otherwise, you'll lead your normal life, see your friends, give parties.
Do everything you have been doing, with one exception.
-What's that? -You've got to see a good deal of me.
l'll bet you'll be a frost at a party.
Thank you.
Anything else, gentlemen?
No, l think that's all.
-Can we go somewhere and talk? -Yes.
Go right in here in the sitting room.
-You'll find cigarettes on the table. -Thank you.
Better put your shoes on.
Hey, you guys be quiet!
There are doctors in the house.
-What have you got? -l don't know. Maybe it's kittens.
-Well, what's the verdict? -Dr. Steele will talk to you.
-Well, goodbye. -Goodbye, Miss Traherne.
-l'll show the doctors out. -Then come up, will you?
-All right. -Goodbye.
Would you like a drink?
No, thanks.
Well?
The prisoner will rise.
The sentence?
We've got to operate.
Operate?
On me?
Where?
No.
Well, after all, the brain's like any other part of the body.
Things get out of kilter, have to be adjusted.
Oh, no, l won't.
Ann.
-Ann? -What's the matter?
Come here. Quickly.
Tell her.
-He wants to operate. -Operate?
-Yes, on my head. -Oh, no. You've made a mistake.
l knew almost at once. l just wanted confirmation, that's all.
-What's she got? -Yes, what have l got?
Technically, it's called glioma.
-Glioma? -Oh, don't listen to him.
-lt sounds like a kind of a plant. -Yes.
lt is rather like a plant, a parasitic one.
-lf it's taken care of-- -All surgeons are alike, Judy.
Don't be upset, darling. We can call in other doctors. We wait.
Yes, yes, of course.
But you have to face it sooner or later.
Suppose we just don't talk about it anymore.
-What? -Another headache, Miss Judith?
No, not another headache.
Yes, a big headache!
And l'll have a bottle of champagne for it.
l said no, and l mean no.
Excuse me, please.
She's very nervous. l can't do anything with her. She wants to see you.
Did she take the medication?
All right, let's get her to sleep.
-lt's still not too late to go home. -May l come in?
-This is your doctor speaking. -Yes.
-Hello. -Well, how is everything?
-Everything's awful. -ls it?
-Look what you make me wear. -They are pretty dowdy, aren't they?
l suppose you brought some nice things of your own to wear?
Yes, l did. Some lovely nighties.
ln fact, l bought two new ones especially for. . . .
-For this. -Miss Dodd, l don't see any reason. . .
. . .why Miss Traherne shouldn't wear her own things if she wants to.
Martha, bring that over here.
-See? -Oh, it's lovely.
-You better turn your back. -No, l think like this.
See, that's much better.
There. Very pretty.
Oh, thanks.
-Here's a present for you. -What's that?
Something to make you sleep.
Come on.
There.
Thank you.
But l don't want to sleep. Anyway, how could l in a 2-by-4 like this?
l have a bed big enough for six. Why, l can't even move.
Now just a moment. Let me show you something about this bed.
Watch this.
See that? Rest your legs.
Now the back.
There. That's for your back. Make you feel much more comfortable.
Before you're through here, you'll wanna take it home with you.
That is much better.
You know, l can't understand about me.
l've never given in a fraction to anyone before. . .
. . .and here l am letting you bounce me up and bounce me down.
Exactly where. . .?
Where does it happen?
-Here, or--? -Now, now. That's my worry.
How do you do it? What do you do?
Chatterbox, aren't you?
lt is a distasteful subject, isn't it?
Well, l don't care.
l don't care about anything.
This is a nice bed.
lt's a nice room too.
Ann, you're miles away over there. Come here.
l love you, Ann.
l don't know what l'd do without you.
l love you.
Do you two like each other?
-Of course. -Sure.
Well, l want you to.
Because l love everybody.
-Will they cut off my hair? -Just a little.
-l don't want my hair cut off. -lt'll grow back.
Of course it will. Silly of me.
-You know something? -What?
l feel so good.
Nothing to think about.
You're going to sleep now.
That's right. l must do everything you say.
l put myself in your hands.
They're rather nice hands.
Good, strong hands.
-Doctor? -Yes?
-Will you do something for me? -Yes.
When you get inside my head, see if you can find any sense in it.
Dr. Steele?
Yes, Dr. Steele is all through in Surgery 7.
-Good morning. -lt's all clear.
How are you, doctor?
-Wednesday afternoon for right now. -All right, Wednesday afternoon.
Dr. Driscoll, was that the laboratory's last word?
l'm afraid so.
-There's no hope? -No.
Those are the pathological findings. She's bound to get a recurrence.
And that means?
About 1 0 months.
-lnvalidism, l suppose. -No. l think it's a rare case.
She'd apparently be as well as any of us. That is, until--
Well, her sight may fail her near the end.
-Amblyopia. -Yes.
There'd only be a few hours after that.
And l brought her into the world.
Hang it all, Steele. Don't stand there saying nothing.
lt's a rotten business, doctoring.
What's the matter, Steele?
Glioma.
Malignant?
A girl like that. So alive. . .
. . .so entitled to live.
Then this thing, this growth, comes along and puts a period to it.
Makes you almost wish it happened on the table.
Are you going to tell her?
Do you want her to know?
No.
Then there's your answer.
Watch her temperature. l'll be back later.
-l brought that little girl into the world. -Did you?
Doctor?
She'll be all right.
-How long? -Oh, a few weeks' convalescence.
Will she really be all right, just as she was before?
l think l can promise a complete surgical recovery.
You think so? What does that mean? Will she be well?
Yes.
-Martha, it fits beautifully, doesn't it? -Yes, ma'am.
Couldn't tell a thing, could you?
Thank you. That's very good.
Behold. A new woman from top to toe.
Don't get up, Alec. New shoes, new stockings, new dress, new head.
-And a new disposition. -What was the matter with my old one?
-Like it? -Oh, it's very nice.
-Good. -Move your feet.
Alec, behave.
What was wrong with my old disposition?
Never mind, darling. l've always loved you, despite your faults.
-l gotta get another drink. -l have to go down too. Come on.
-What's the matter? -Michael. He's taken to whistling for us.
Whistling for us?
Oh, Ann. lt's Challenger.
-Good afternoon, Michael. -Good afternoon, Miss Judith.
How nice of you to bring him.
-Oh, you have got him in good shape. -Yes, your little horse is in fine shape.
Turn him around so she can see him. But he'll still never be a steeplechaser.
We're teaching him to crochet. He's working on a set of doilies.
You'll take that back when he wins the National.
-Everyone here is glad you're back. -Are they? How nice.
Yes, indeed they are. The boys at the stables, even the horses.
Take your hat off when l'm talking to a lady.
l'm very glad. Thanks for bringing him.
Anything for you, Miss Judith. Anytime.
All right, take him on.
Doesn't the world smell nice?
l wonder where our New England friend is.
-lsn't that him coming through the gate? -Well, come on, then.
Ann, do l look all right? Think l ought to change my dress again?
Used to be six dresses on the floor, now it's 1 2. You used to be mad.
And what that doctor's done for you, you're madder still.
Don't let's make a fuss over him and spoil him.
l'm going to be busy with my friends. l'm not going to seem too anxious.
And don't you be too anxious either.
-Hi. -Judy!
-Carrie, hello. -Judy, you've never looked better.
Thank you.
-That hair. How clever. -Do you like it?
Gwen, when did you get back? Good to see you.
lt's good, honey. Really good. This house has been a morgue.
-Thank you. -Frank will sell you those horses.
-Oh, how wonderful. -l'll talk to you. l'm a businesswoman.
Let's have some champagne.
-Where can he be? -He'll be here.
l'll have some. He told me l could. Will you?
-Yes. -Thank you, Agatha.
-Here's to me. To life. -May you never be ill again.
Thanks.
-There he is. Have those things come? -l don't know.
Go see, will you?
-Colonel Mantle, Dr. Steele. -How do you do?
Speaking generally, l consider doctors a pack of frauds.
-Tried to tell me port is bad for my gout. -How do you do, Dr. Steele?
-Hello, Judith. How are you? -Hello. Come on.
That's my gang. They're here every day.
-Sit down, will you? -Thanks.
-You're late. -Yes. l was at the hospital.
Were you?
-Have a drink? -No, thanks.
l had one. You said l could.
Thank you again for everything. For my horse, my first day, my drink.
-Been a good girl? -No.
-l thought not. -Why?
l knew you wouldn't be. l knew you couldn't be.
What do you mean, a good girl? Well, l am. The idea.
Did you drive in for lunch and come right back home?
-Father, l cannot tell a lie. -What did you do?
-Bought these shoes. -Oh, very pretty. Very nice.
What else?
This. Other new frocks l think you'll like.
Oh, thanks for the 2 inches off my middle.
And thank you for my life.
What can l do for you?
Oh, just wait.
Why are you so grumpy?
You always say l'm grumpy.
l've been a good girl until today. l've practically been your slave.
And l am well. Look.
Reflexes, terrific.
Balance, perfect.
And l can walk a straight line. l can even walk backwards.
Excuse me, will you?
They're here. The man wants to see you.
Good. Now, go and look out for our doctor.
Kneel on him, club him if necessary, but make him have a drink.
Get that look off his face somehow.
Penny for your thoughts.
-Oh, hello, Ann. How are you? -Hello. How are you?
-You look as if you needed a drink. -No, thanks.
-What do you think of Judith? -Fine.
You did that. You should be very proud of yourself.
Yes.
Dr. Steele, when you came down to Judith's room right after the operation. . .
. . .you had a certain look on your face.
l put it down at the time to the strain, the tension of the operation.
l don't understand you.
l saw that look on your face just now.
l'm lrish. l may be psychic and funny.
l'm probably quite wrong, but is there something?
Something about Judith that you're holding back?
lf there is-- Please, l am her best friend.
Will you come outside, please?
Then there is something.
l can't save her.
-Nothing can. Nothing. -What?
She's going to die.
No.
No, that isn't true.
You shouldn't have touched her.
l'm not going to argue with you now.
The facts are these. . . .
l'll try to tell you in simple layman's language.
You mean she's going to have that pain again?
And that ghastly confusion?
No.
She's not going to suffer anymore.
That's all behind her now.
Yes, but you told her she could ride.
That's the freakish nature of this thing. She will ride.
She'll seem well and normal, like everybody else.
How long have you known?
Since the operation.
Why didn't you let her go then?
l haven't jurisdiction over life and death.
How will it come?
Quietly. Peacefully.
God's last small mercy.
Will she have no warning?
No chance to be ready?
There may be a moment towards the end when. . . .
When her sight may not be quite as good as usual.
A dimming of vision.
Then a few hours, perhaps three, four.
How long has she got?
A year?
Six months?
-Four? -Possibly more.
l don't believe it.
Ann?
-She must never know. -No. No.
You sneaks, hiding out on me.
What's the idea?
Well, actually, we're talking about just how much you should do.
l told him you'd had the devil of a day. He said it didn't matter.
lt's been the best day of my life.
-This is for you. -Oh, Judith, you shouldn't.
-What's in it? -A little gold and a lot of sentiment.
From a grateful patient.
Look at that man. l thought a surgeon had to have such steady hands.
-Let me help you. -Oh, thank you.
Oh, they're very pretty.
l'm so glad you like them. We couldn't think of anything else, could we, Ann?
Of course, it isn't enough.
l've an idea. This is my birthday.
-What? -Well, it is really, you know.
My new birthday.
Let's all three of us each year get together and celebrate, shall we?
-Come on. -All right.
Let's have some champagne right now and start.
Come on, everybody, we're going to have champagne.
-Where have you been, Judy? -Outside.
Now, l'll wear my green slacks in the morning. . .
. . .and my big hat for lunch. He'll like that.
l've got to look my best.
lf ever Judy had to knock them for a row of pins. . . .
Oh, Agatha. Here are the menus for the weekend. Martha, come here.
Now, it's up to you. For evening--
Ann, do you think we ought to dress for dinner tomorrow night?
-Give him a bit of swish? -Just as you please, darling.
Oh, no, l don't think so. They'll be tired.
l'm getting to be such a hostess. This is my first real weekend.
The house just reeks of dignity. Of course, l'll have the kids in.
l'll always have them. l don't think he minds them, do you?
-l don't suppose he will. -What's the matter?
Nothing. l've got to get through these bills. lt's the 1 0th of the month.
You'll put on your best dignity, won't you? And help me keep dignified?
Well. . .
. . .l'm here, and l think l'm somewhere very nice.
Look at me.
l'm looking at you.
You're in love?
Yes.
l thought so.
What about him?
-Has he given you any encouragement? -Not a ripple on the water.
He drives me crazy, but--
But when l just think of him, l--
And when l think if l hadn't fallen off that horse. . . .
lt was awful.
But it was wonderful.
Life's a different thing.
For the first time, l wake up with something to live for.
Something besides horses and hats and food.
He's very fine, isn't he?
Very worthwhile, isn't he?
Oh, if only the Spaniards or the French had settled New England. . .
. . .instead of the Pilgrims.
Yes, but if he hasn't given you any signs, how do you know?
Well. . .
. . .that's it, l don't know.
But he didn't go away.
That's one sign, Mr. Watson.
Must mean something.
Don't be against me.
l'm not against you.
Good.
Ann?
-Will you do something for me? -Of course.
l was thinking, you might take advantage of any lull in the conversation tomorrow. . .
. . .just to mention what a good wife Judith would be.
What an ideal wife.
-Well, don't you think l would be? -Oh, the best.
Well, keep both fingers crossed for me.
Ann, one day it'll happen to you.
And you'll know how wonderful it is.
Martha?
Murray Hill 7-7340.
May l have Miss Judith's telephone book, please?
ls that Murray Hill 7-7340?
May l speak to Dr. Steele, please?
What is it?
You and l have got something to talk about.
Yes?
Does Judith mean anything more to you than just a patient?
Perhaps it's impertinent of me to ask you.
No, it isn't.
l think l know. l think you do care for her.
Yes, Ann. l do care.
So much.
What are you going to do?
Are you going to go up there and tell her. . .
. . .and hold her in your arms? Are you?
Or go away and leave her to us?
Which is better? l don't know.
-l haven't slept for two nights. -Neither have l.
This morning l saw it coming.
And just now, a little while ago, l asked her to her face, ''Do you love him?''
And she answered, ''Yes, l do. ''
lt's up to you.
She said that?
You know, Ann, before, women never meant anything to me.
l'd never met anyone like her.
l was all set. l had plans, made arrangements.
l know, Vermont.
Why don't you go away for your own sake and that of your work?
Work.
How can l work when l can't cure her?
Nothing else on my mind. l just sit here. l can't think of anything else.
Oh, Ann.
-l'd give my body if it'd do any good. -lsn't there anything? Anything?
What's she ever done this should happen to her? She's never harmed a soul.
She's never done anything to anyone except kindness.
l know.
Here, look.
Here's a letter l got today from Vienna.
The last finding in the case.
There's the translation.
Not a chance in the world.
l don't know where to look next.
Here's this Heinzig in Vienna, the greatest in the world.
Twelve of them. ''Prognosis negative. ''
''Negative. ''
Negative.
Oh, l'm so sorry for you both.
You couldn't marry her. You know what she'd expect.
A home, children, plans for the future. You couldn't do that to her.
The great thing, Ann, is for her never to know.
Could you stand watching her growing happier every day. . .
. . .with this thing creeping up behind her?
Could you stand that? l couldn't.
lt isn't a question of what you or l could stand.
The main thing is for her to be happy. . .
. . .every hour.
Ann, all my life l've been able to tell people what to do.
-Now l-- -Telephone, doctor.
This is Dr. Steele.