Ladies of Leisure Page #2

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empty whiskey bottles.

Empty wine bottles

Cigarette and cigar butts.

Cars get smashed, walls stained.

A studio?

That place looks like a nightclub.

It wasn't my crowd,

in fact it wasn't my party.

Whose party was it?

Oh, a friend of mine

borrowed the studio.

Just as I thought.

You surrounded yourself with a

lot of half-baked, long-haired...

No, Governor. Everybody at that party

had a hair cut, even the women.

You bet they did.

He-women and she-men.

I know 'em. Sponges. Hanging on

for what they can get out of you.

They're not our crowd.

Those are not our people.

John, dear. Let the boy alone.

You promised.

I know I did.

He's going to get married soon.

Not fair to Claire.

To think of my only son

wasting his time on a... on a...

- Career is the word, Dad.

- Career?

- You call daubing a career?

- Daubing?

Why, John, Jerry has created

a couple of beautiful things.

Well, I've created a couple

of beautiful railroads too.

And who's going to take charge

of it when I'm gone?

A painter?

If you stepped out tonight,

they'd run themselves.

That's how good a

job you've done.

Why, John, if Jerry were to give up

his painting I'd never forgive him.

And if you don't stop pegging him

I'll never forgive you.

What chance have I got with you two?

I wish Claire was here to help me out.

John...

You darn old pudding...

Who's the head of this family?

As for you, I'm going

on record that art business

is going to get

you in a beautiful jam.

I'd feel homesick if I didn't hear

a little of that grumbling.

What do you mean by that, Jerry?

It's rather a beautiful word, isn't it?

More than that.

It's a beautiful thing.

I wonder if I could put it on canvas.

Have you found a subject?

Last night I think I found one.

A strange sort of girl.

She had a mask on like everybody else.

But underneath I think she had this.

Alright, chin up, Miss Arnold.

Now look up.

Up.

Up, I say.

How high is up?

Am I looking up?

- You are not.

Only your eyes are looking up.

Now...

What do you see?

A ceiling.

That's just the trouble.

Look through the ceiling.

Visualize.

The sky. Space.

The universe.

Stardust, anything.

There is no ceiling.

- Don't you see?

- Horse feathers. It's a ceiling.

You can ask anybody.

Listen, big boy.

Why don't you make up your mind?

You hired me to pose for you

and then you don't even know

what kind of a pose you want.

I don't want any pose.

I want to paint you.

And while you work for me

you better let me do all the painting.

What do you mean?

See, look at that.

Hey, what's the idea?

I can't paint you unless I can see you.

And I can't see you

with all this camouflage.

You want me to be homely?

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