Hands Across the Table Page #2

---

on the wrong tack, Regi.

I wish I could show you

how valueless money is.

You can't.

I know what love can get you into.

I know what it got my mother into.

She was young and pretty once.

I saw her count pennies

and wash and struggle...

until she was old and ugly.

I heard her nagging my father

until he hated to come home.

You couldn't blame him.

You couldn't blame anything but poverty.

I see.

Oh, I didn't mean to

let my back hair down so far.

But that's what you get

for encouraging me.

Oh, I'm terribly sorry!

Oh, don't worry

about that.

It's awful.

I'm so sorry.

The only thing that worries me

is you, your ideas.

But you certainly seem

to know what you want.

I know a lot of things.

You certainly do.

And I'll bet you forget all of them

when the right man comes along.

No, I won't. You can't blame me

for wanting the things I do.

Every woman wants them.

Only I say I do.

Well, if you'll excuse me,

after making a mess of things

I'll go back to the grind.

You've had enough

for one day.

Not nearly.

Gee, I'm sorry

I spilt the tea.

Oh!

Accidents

can happen to anyone.

See?

Thanks. I'm afraid you do it

better than I do.

Good-bye.

Good-bye.

Peter'll see you to the door.

Yes, he always does.

You know, I feel like a chiseler

when I take your money. Funny, isn't it?

I guess it's because you're

the only real friend I've got.

Thanks.

It's been a lot of fun.

Confessions and all?

Confessions and all, Regi.

Bye.

Good-bye.

Oh, I'm sorry.

I didn't know the lights

were against me.

That's all right.

Hopscotch.

Hopscotch?

Mm-hmm.

Indoor hopscotch.

Not up to turf and field hopscotch,

but hopscotch nevertheless.

- Get the idea?

- Yes, I get the idea.

- Do you wanna play?

- No, thanks.

Well, every man

to his own sport.

You'll be sorry

when I'm champion!

Savoy-Cariton Barber Shop.

Manicure? Yes.

Right away. Yes, sir.

What name, please?

Oh, yes, sir!

Regi, I'm gonna give you

your Christmas present in May.

What?

The answer to every working girl's prayer

just called up for a manicure.

So get out your hope chest, dearie.

- Who is he?

- Theodore Drew III, baby.

Three's a bad number-

That doesn't mean anything.

- It means he must have had a grandfather.

- Is he rich?

Not only rich,

but young and handsome.

What do you talk about to a guy like that?

What does he like?

- Blondes, probably.

- Well, you can't talk about that.

Then tell him how you just love polo.

That's always safe.

Thanks.

Oh, sorry, this is reserved

for an appointment.

Aw, but I have an-

Sorry.

Excuse me.

Pardon me.

Are you taken?

Uh, for what?

A manicure.

Oh, no.

Are you interested

in numerology?

No.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes