Dancing Lady Page #4

make it easy for you?

- Bradley?

- That's Gallagher's boss.

How about it?

What's there in it for you?

Now, this is no place to discuss that.

- Come on, let's go upstairs.

- Can't you read?

I'm no gentleman.

Besides, I need pen and ink for that letter.

You'll find pen and ink in the parlor.

- Okay.

- Hey, wait a minute.

You haven't told me yet where you cut in.

If you want it that way,

I won't cut in at all.

- At least not for a while.

- No. I'll do it for art's sake.

Okay. I'll take it.

But remember,

I stay out of your private collection.

- Good morning, good morning.

- Good morning, Mr. Bradley.

- Good morning, Miss Allen.

- Good morning, Mr. Bradley.

- Good morning, Miss Allen.

- Good morning, Junior.

I mean, Mr. Bradley.

What do you think

I want to see you about?

How about un-belting

with some more cash for this show?

You're not putting on

a dog and monkey circus, you know.

Look at these costumes.

- See anything wrong with them?

- No. They're very pretty. Very nice.

Yes, they're pretty. They're nice.

I suppose you can see

they're not of the same period.

The styles are only a hundred years apart.

What of it?

Nobody will know the difference.

Besides, they're the best we could rent.

So that's the gag. Rented.

You can afford to buy some, can't you?

Yes, I can,

but there are taxes and advertising...

and salaries for people like you

and Junior.

It costs money to send Junior to Harvard

to study the drama.

Well, you can write that off as a dead loss.

Oh, now, now,

don't get excited over nothing.

If you don't care about your rep,

I care about mine.

And I'm not going to put on

a charity bazaar for anybody! That's flat!

- Did I ever deny you anything?

- Never mind the salve.

- Do I get the costumes?

- All right, of course. Of course.

You didn't really mean to walk out on me

just for a few costumes.

Rather than send beautiful girls

out in those, I'd let them go on naked.

You know, Papa, that's a swell idea.

It's the same idea

that got you kicked out of school.

Come on, girls. On the stage.

Junior!

Yes, Papa.

Come in.

- Mr. Bradley...

- Go away, I can't see anyone. I'm busy.

- But I have a...

- I told you to go away. Go away.

All right, but there's a letter here

from Mr. Tod Newton.

Why didn't you say so in the first place?

- Newton. Tod Newton.

- Tod Newton.

- Show the lady in. Show the lady in.

- Yes, sir.

This Tod Newton has a lot of money.

Maybe we'll get some good costumes

after all.

My boy, you're learning the business.

Miss Barlow.

Miss Barlow. How do you do?

Why, this is wonderful.

Why didn't you come in before?

Well, your lady traffic cop out there

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