The Dark Corner Page #2

You should have William Powell

for a secretary.

William Powell, who's he?

Don't you ever go to the movies?

He's a detective in The Thin Man.

That's pretty hot ginger ale you're mixing up.

- Who was that man?

- White Suit?

- Yeah.

- Just hired muscle.

- Who hired him?

- Forget it. You'll be better off.

Had the smell of Judas on me

since I touched him.

Who? Come on, open up that steel safe.

I wanna know and I wanna help.

I can't, baby.

But that's...

that's awful good talk.

I like it.

Listen.

If you don't wanna lose that stardust look

in your eyes, go while the door's still open.

You stick around here, you'll get grafters,

shysters, two-bit thugs, maybe worse.

Maybe me.

I like those odds. I'll take them.

And I'm staying.

Whatever this is,

I've got a feeling you can handle it.

And I like your style, Mr Galt.

Thanks, Kathleen.

Having said my little piece,

I think it's time for me to go home now.

- See you in the morning, boss.

- Hadn't you better start calling me Brad?

Say, about those nylons. What size?

Nines.

I'll make a note of it.

Night.

- Good evening, Mr Jardine.

- Evening, Henry.

Good evening, Mr Jardine.

- Mrs Reynolds, so nice to see you.

- What a lovely party. This reminds me...

Yes. Mrs Cathcart's in the ballroom.

Hello, Jardine.

I practically live here.

I shouldn't bother to leave.

A delight to have you.

You're dining with us tomorrow too.

Oh, yes, thank you. I'll be here.

Where's Mari?

She's inside somewhere.

Wasting her charm on a lot of dullards.

Shall we go in?

Ah. Guten Abend, Frau Keller.

The wife of the Austrian critic. She looks like

she's been out in the rain feeding the poultry.

- Mrs Kingsley, Mr Jardine.

- How do you do?

- You know Lucy Wilding.

- Nice to see you.

- Mr and Mrs Bryson.

- How do you do?

And the woman

who brightens my reclining years.

Don't exaggerate.

It's only our third anniversary.

You're not decrepit yet, old boy.

Then why do I detect a rather tactless

emphasis on that "old boy"?

We present the perfect picture

of Beauty and the Beast.

You can be a beast at times, Hardy.

As long as I'm amusing, you'll forgive me.

But senility is unforgivable.

Stop talking like a fool. You're the most

attractive man in the room and you know it.

Remind me to tell you, my dear,

that I adore you.

Quite a turnout, Hardy. Everybody's here.

Yes. A nauseating mixture of Park Avenue

and Broadway. It proves I'm a liberal.

Oh, be honest, Hardy.

You're celebrating your anniversary

and drumming up trade for the art gallery

at the same time.

I never confuse business with sentiment.

Unless it's extremely profitable, of course.

But there is an exhibition tomorrow?

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