High Society Page #5

FRANK:

lnbreeding. Always produces idiots.

LIZZY:

Here. Open this.

CAROLINE:

How do you do? I believe you're

the lady and gentleman from the press.

I am Caroline Lord.

LIZZY:

Well, I'm Elizabeth lmbrie

and this is Mr. Macaulay Connor.

CAROLINE:

I spoke French before I spoke English.

My early childhood was spent in Paris,

where my father worked in a bank.

The House of Morgan.

FRANK:

You don't say.

CAROLINE:

Yes, I do say.

Can you play the piano?

I can.

I shall play and sing

at the same time.

TRACY:

How do you do?

I'm Tracy Lord.

You must be -- Oh, of course, you are.

I adore strangers.

Do sit down, please.

FRANK:

That sister of yours --

TRACY:

Isn't she a dear? And so talented. But

we're afraid she has a homicidal streak.

Did you get lost finding us?

FRANK:

No. We had good directions.

LIZZY:

I hope you don't mind

our being here.

TRACY:

Oh, but I'm delighted.

We have so much cake.

What is your name, dear?

LIZZY:

No, thank you.

TRACY:

I'm so sensitive to names.

LIZZY:

My name is Elizabeth Imbrie.

TRACY:

Elizabeth Imbrie.

It sounds like a medieval saint who

was burned to death. And you?

FRANK:

I'm Mike Connor.

TRACY:

Michael. What a lovely musical name.

Now, you mustn't be ashamed of it.

FRANK:

I'm not. Mike is for Macaulay.

TRACY:

And what's the Macaulay for?

My father taught English history.

My friends call me Mike.

TRACY:

Of whom you have many, I'm sure.

English history has

always fascinated me.

Cromwell and Robin Hood.

And Jack the Ripper. Where did he teach?

Your father, I mean.

FRANK:

South Bend, Indiana.

TRACY:

South Bend. It sounds

like dancing, doesn't it?

You must have had a most

happy childhood there.

FRANK:

It was screams.

TRACY:

I'm so glad.

FRANK:

I didn't mean it that way.

TRACY:

Sorry.

FRANK:

It's a natural mistake.

TRACY:

Are you the photographer or the...?

LIZZY:

I take pictures.

TRACY:

Great art. Did you bring your Brownie?

You must be sort of a writer, Mr. Connor.

FRANK:

Sort of, yes.

TRACY:

Have I read your novels?

I doubt it.

FRANK:

I haven't written any.

TRACY:

But you must.

Why, Mozart composed at 13.

You must be at least 30.

Time is flying. Where were you born,

Miss Imbrie?

LIZZY:

Duluth.

TRACY:

Duluth.

That's west of here, isn't it?

LIZZY:

Sort of.

But we occasionally get

the eastern breezes.

TRACY:

Are you two going together?

FRANK:

Now, look, Miss Lord.

LIZZY:

That's an odd question, I must say.

TRACY:

I don't see why. I think it's fascinating.

Like birds in spring. It's --

Well, it's the sort of intimate detail you

Like to write about, isn't it, Mr. Connor?

But if you'd rather not have

your privacy invaded

I will certainly respect your wishes.

Please.

If you'll excuse me, I'll see

what's keeping Mama.

Mama is so eager to see you.

Mama?

-----

LIZZY:

You know, professor, I think you

dropped a loop.

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