Dishonored Lady

Just what is our trouble? That's what I want to know.

Our trouble is Miss Damien.

Miss Damien again?

She's a pretty as a picture and as stubborn as a mule.

But this time there's a lot more involved

than just her opinion.

Come in, Miss Damien. We were just ripping you

up the back a little bit.

So I gathered.

Nothing personal. It's about Mr. Courtland.

Courtland? Oh, yes, he runs a jewelry store.

He owns Cortland and Company.

London, Paris, Fifth Avenue.

You may remember he's one of our biggest advertisers.

What Shirley wants to say...

I know what Shirley wants to say...

I always know what Shirley wants to say.

He wants to know why I killed the Art layout

on Mr. Courtland's famous jewels.

And I understand the April number

goes to press without it.

That's right. In the first place it's no Art layout,

it's a press agent's dream.

But the result is we stand a good chance

of losing the Courtland account.

Am I running my department or am I not?

I haven't said anything, Miss Damien.

I had a talk with Courtland.

He was decidedly acid about it.

I'm not interested in Courtland.

But if this magazine is going to submit

to advertisers' blackmail, I'd like to know about it.

Now, please, Miss Damien.

If that's the policy, Mr. Kranish,

you'd better get someone else to take my place.

Please, Miss Damien, just a moment.

Gentlemen, if you don't mind, I'll talk to you later.

I thought I should bring this to your attention.

You can't blame us for trying.

No, of course not. No harm done, gentlemen.

Madeleine, you've got yourself all worked up.

Come sit down.

I'll get you a drink.

No, thanks, I don't want one.

No?

What is this but private blackmail of yours?

Threatening to quit in order to win an argument.

I'd just as soon quit. I mean it.

Now tell me, what's happened? You're all wound up.

What's bothering you?

Oh, nothing's bothering me.

You know I don't want you to quit.

I won't go to my personal feelings,

but you are the best art editor I've ever had.

How's the insomnia?

Oh, I've found some new sleeping pills.

Red ones this time.

Red pills to put you to sleep.

White ones to keep you up.

It doesn't sound very sensible, my dear.

What are you doing this evening?

Dining with Freddie Fancher.

Oh, Freddie again.

I couldn't get out of it, Victor.

We're using some of his stories next month.

But it'll be the last time, I promise.

Madeleine, you're a bundle of lies.

A very lovely bundle, beautifully tied together.

I'm trying to be honest,

but you won't believe me, will you?

No, my dear.

Because I don't really think you believe yourself.

Why do you have to go back to that bore,

Freddie Fancher?

You haven't even given me a chance

to make love to you.

You've been doing all right.

You know something?

It's awfully hard to make love to a woman

who makes more money than I do.

It would be much easier if you made love to me.

Would it?

trying to give me the brushoff, are you?

Finally we understand each other.

Well, there you are, Freddie.

There's your girl and no bones broken.

I'll see you at the office, Madeleine.

I'd join you if somebody asked me.

Nobody's asking you.

Fair enough.

Why do you have to dance with that polliwog?

Look, I told you not to drink.

I always drink. Particularly when I'm with you.

Oh, am I that hard to take sober?

You're a voluptuous pain in the neck.

I'm going home.

You're not gonna walk out on me.

Come on, be yourself.

I told you I'm going to leave early.

You can't just leave me here sitting in the snow.

I'm mad about you, in my own foul way.

Good night, Freddie.

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