Song of the Thin Man Page #2

- Yes.

- Good-bye.

Good-bye.

- Who are they?

- Just the people who invited us.

- You ought to remember the Thayars.

- I ought?

He presented the museum

with a million dollars worth of antiques.

- He did?

- Yes. They're very nice.

He seems especially nice

for a guy carrying a gun.

A gun?

Yes. I felt it just now

when we locked bumpers.

If this rampage of respectability persists,

we'll have to get you a bullet-proof girdle.

If you people think a gambler like Brant...

is going to turn the entire

evening's proceeds over to charity...

you're being very naive.

- Well, he is.

- Janet arranged it.

I don't know how

she ever persuaded him to.

- That doesn't take much imagination.

- Hello, Mr. Brant.

- You know everybody.

- How do you do?

We were just remarking

about your generosity.

- I'm getting my cut.

- I thought so.

A dance with your daughter.

- May I have that dance now?

- Janet has just finished dancing.

- I'm sure she's tired.

- I'd love to dance.

- Janet.

- David, please.

Maybe, we'd better make this

some other time.

Father, if you'll consult

my birth certificate...

you'll find I'm of full age and perfectly

capable of making my own decisions.

- Phil.

- Darling.

I don't think

the blue-blooded Mr. Thayar will like...

the idea of his daughter

being married to a guy like me.

Tomorrow, there won't be anything

he can do about it.

You're sure you want

to go through with it? Maybe, no dice.

It's going to be a natural.

I'll go to my office,

get my things, and some money.

Meet me at the companionway

in 10 minutes.

Rain again.

Thank you, Bertha.

Tell Mr. Charles his breakfast is ready.

Cornflakes before comics.

- But, Mom.

- After breakfast, Nicky.

- Morning, Son.

- Hi, Dad. You look keen.

Beautiful day. I've dressed for it.

- You look like a page out of Esquire.

- Not the page I saw.

I'm through.

Oh, boy! Another murder.

How do you like that?

- It's a trap.

- What?

I knew Roy shouldn't have trusted

that Arsenic Annie.

She's a man dressed in a woman's clothes.

- Annie's a man?

- Sure. It's a dead giveaway.

A dame would never pass a mirror without

looking to see if her slip was showing.

"Dame"?

That's what Daddy always says.

I never say "dame."

I always say "doll." "Dish."

Anyway, it's a very shrewd deduction.

Don't throw the paper away.

I want to read about that murder.

Maybe we can figure it out.

- Asta.

- Father's no longer interested in murders.

- Good-bye.

- Good-bye?

Nicky, the piano is in the living room.

- But I gotta pitch today.

- Couldn't he practice later?

He's going to the Thayar's

this afternoon to meet their youngster.

They might ask him to play

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