Christmas in Connecticut Page #3

Oh, you paid that back long ago.

This is interest. I'm...

Gee, I knew it.

Such breakfast. Sardines.

You mad at your stomach, darling?

Come here and let me see.

Oh, yummy. Mushroom omelet.

Did you write up those recipes

for next month's article?

- Yes.

- What am I cooking?

Look here.

Breast of gray dove,

saut with peaches grenadine...

...no points, chicken soup

with Moselle wine, no points.

- Oh, that's wonderful.

- And you can...

Lizk!

- What's the matter?

- That coat! What's the meaning?

Don't worry. I'm paying for it myself.

It'll take my next six months' salary.

Nice, isn't it?

Six months' work for a coat?

All my life, I promised

myself a mink coat.

You know, Felix, it's very important

to keep promises, especially to yourself.

- Do you have to promise so expensively?

- But I needed it.

You need it? Nobody needs

a mink coat but a mink.

You don't know what a mink coat

does for a girl's morale.

Yes, the morale, I know.

I had a silk hat once in Budapest.

A silk hat. It made me feel so fine.

And then I insulted the maitre d'htel

and got fired with a silk hat.

Come on, eat.

Mink outside, sardines inside,

that's no good too.

Oh, this is marvelous.

You know, Felix, some time

I'm gonna take time out...

...and learn to cook like you do.

- No, no, no, no.

- No?

- No, no, darling.

Then you would find out

it is not the way you write now.

All easy and fun and...

- Don't cook.

- All right.

I have to go, darling. Goodbye.

Thanks a million.

- Oh, hello, Felix.

- Hello. Goodbye. Merry Christmas.

Don't mention it.

- Hello, Dud.

- Hello, Liz. We're in a jam.

Something terrible is about to happen.

- What?

- Yardley wants to see you right away...

...at his home on Long Island.

Maybe he wants to give me a raise

for Christmas. I've helped circulation.

- No. It's not a raise.

- You look frazzled. You want a drink?

No. No, thanks. Now, it's really nothing

to be nervous about. Not a thing.

Don't be silly.

I'm not nervous. I feel fine.

Well, you won't in a minute.

Now get this. Some fool nurse

at a Naval hospital...

...wrote to Yardley asking him to invite a

wounded sailor to your farm for Christmas.

My farm?

Oh, oh, yes, my farm.

Oh, my farm.

And he wants to see you

to arrange it.

Are you crazy?

Where am I going to get a farm?

- I haven't even got a window box.

- We'll have to stall him off.

You know what a stickler he is

for the truth.

If he ever finds out we've been making

all this up, he'll fire the both of us.

Well, it's been nice knowing you.

It's really not as bad as it sounds, Liz.

All you have to do is to go out there and tell

him that your child has whooping cough.

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