The Man Who Wouldn't Die Page #2
- PASSED
- Year:
- 1942
- 65 min
- 38 Views
Yet.
Now do you believe in ghosts,
Mr. Shayne?
For $200,
Thank you.
You were saying, Miss Wolff?
I wanted to call the police,
but Dad wouldn't let me.
In fact, when I suggested it,
Dad almost had a fit.
- How come?
- Well, ever since the Senate's been investigating him...
he hates policemen and reporters.
What about private investigators?
That was one of the things
I wanted to tell you.
- Mike, you can be my husband.
- Okay, but that'll cost you an extra hundred-
Your husband?
Isn't this kinda sudden?
Well, you don't understand.
I'm already married.
I was married yesterday,
but Daddy hasn't met my husband yet.
- Oh, and you want me to take the poor guy's place.
- Mm-hmm.
That'll still cost you
an extra hundred, and that's wholesale.
$300? That's my entire allowance.
Oh, you poor kiddie.
What, for a month?
Or does it have to last you
a whole week?
All right. You win.
Now, you'll have to get some clothes
and a toothbrush-
No, no.
Not Michael Shayne and Company.
His office is in his hat. His home is in his car.
Take a look in the backseat.
Oh, Mike.
You think of everything.
Well, that's why you pay me
the extra hundred.
- Oh, wait a second.
- Hey, what's the idea?
This is the old custom of carrying the bride
across the threshold.
This service, I throw in free.
- Oh, now! Stop! Please! Hold me!
- Let go of my head!
Ohl
Lfr-Ifr you'll just trust me...
- it'll be all- all right!
- Wait! Wait, wait! Oh!
You know,
- Oh, well, it was a silly custom anyway.
- Oh, hello, Phillips.
- Uh, this is my husband, Mr. Blake.
- How do you do, sir?
- Roger, Phillips.
- Hello, Phillips. Here, let me help you.
You know, that's
an extraordinary name for a butler.
It's usuallyJeeves or Hawkins.
Permit me to offer
my congratulations, sir.
- Oh, thanks, Jeeves- Uh, Phillips.
- Where's Dad?
- In his den, Miss Kay.
- Good.
That's the best place to beard a lion.
- Maybe I need a whip and a chair.
- Oh, Phillips.
- Yes, miss?
- Mr. Blake's things are in his car.
- Will you take them up to my room?
- Very good, Miss Kay.
Mmm. Very, very good.
Park that gleam in your eye,
Mr. Roger Blake.
Now don't let Dad throw you.
His roar is much worse than his bite.
Oh, I see. Beneath all those millions
beats a heart of ice, huh?
Dry ice.
Well, here we are. You know,
Roger's always very neat.
Uh-huh. Oh, say,
does your dad like stories?
- I got a couple of pips-
- No stories.
- No stories. Okay.
- This investigation...
which is simply one more attempt on the part
of the present administration to-
- Well, what is it?
- Uh, uh, Dad, this is my-
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