Cluny Brown Page #4

of nothing but her pink-and-white complexion.

You seemed to like it

till Hitler came between us.

- Why, I still do.

- Oh, intensely, Betty.

But you must realise

we're on the verge of a war.

Well, then stop talking

and do something about it.

- I have. I've written a letter to The Times.

- Well then, there's nothing to worry about.

- Are you having a good time, Miss Cream?

- Marvellous, thank you.

Oh, Miss Cream, you know,

when I first saw you, I said to Archie,

"There's Miss Betty Cream," and then I said,

"No, that can't be Miss Betty Cream."

But after all, there's only

one Betty Cream, isn't there?

Everyone makes such an absurd fuss

over her. She's simply unbearable.

- The worst manners of any girl I know.

- She's cold, conceited and callous.

- Two martinis, please.

- Yes, sir.

- Have you, uh, asked her to marry you lately?

- Day before yesterday.

- What'd she say?

- She said no, as usual.

She doesn't stop to think.

She hasn't any brains.

If she turned me down once,

I don't think I could ever ask her again.

- I don't think she ever will get married.

- Perhaps she doesn't want to.

What else can she do?

What's going to become of her?

She has no talent.

- She has beauty.

- Well, beauty doesn't mean much.

It helps.

Perhaps.

If you ask me, I feel sorry for the girl.

I think she'll go on and on having a good time

and wind up as one of those hackish females

- who get up charity balls.

- What a pity.

Well, I've made up my mind.

I shall ask her once or twice more,

then I shall wash my hands of her.

- Cheers.

- Cheers.

(SNORING)

- I've found something interesting. A man.

- The place is full of men.

But this one's in bed. Come and have a look.

(SHUSHING)

There he is.

(SNORING)

- No wonder he's in bed. He's squiffed.

- Good heavens!

- What's the matter?

- What is it?

- It's Belinski.

- Not Adam Belinski.

Yes. Adam Belinski.

- Is he a gangster?

- Don't be an idiot, Betty. He's a Czech.

- He's a great man. He's famous.

- Well, whatever for?

He's a writer. Professor at Prague.

One of Hitler's worst enemies.

That's why the Nazis are after him.

He's probably just one jump ahead

of them now. I wonder how he got to London.

- On the underground, no doubt.

- What a man.

He looks exactly like his pictures.

Better, in fact. Nobler. Much nobler.

- More serene.

- But he snores.

What difference does it make?

He's a great liberal.

For that matter, I snore myself.

So do I.

Well, I don't

and I'm as liberal as either of you.

(SNORING)

- Hello.

- Hello.

We, uh... We know who you are.

You can trust us. I'm Andrew Carmel.

- I'm John Frewen.

- How do you do?

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