Lady Be Good Page #6

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I expect some people by here pretty soon.

- Won't you sit down?

- Oh, thanks.

Oh, uh, cigarette?

- It's empty.

- Oh.

Well, never mind,

I just finished one in the cab.

Well...

...how are things, Eddie?

Oh, fine, fine.

I've been pretty busy lately.

Oh, you've been writing?

No. Been moving around a lot, though.

- You know, parties and stuff.

- Oh.

I was down at the Lessmores' yesterday

on Long Island. I had a swell time.

I bet you did.

Well, what about you?

- Have you been working?

- Me? Oh, sure.

You know me. The sewing machine kid.

- Well, is it good?

- Oh, swell, I think.

I found a new writer just the other day.

He seems to work out fine.

Oh, I'm glad.

You wanted to see me, Eddie?

Yeah.

You see...

...it's like this, Dixie.

I guess I'm not as smart

as I thought I was.

Oh?

No. I found out that living alone

isn't quite what it's cracked up to be.

I used to be able to find everything.

Socks and shirts and neckties.

At least they were put where I could

kind of dive into them like a fireman.

Yes, Eddie?

Well, the truth is, Dixie, that...

Well, it takes a woman to run things.

Yes, Eddie?

And now those crumbs

have walked out on me.

What crumbs?

The servants. They took a powder.

I don't know where anything is.

Even how to hire new ones.

That's why I phoned you.

I thought you'd give me a hand.

You thought that...?

If it wasn't too much trouble,

you could...

Well, you know, tell me what to do.

You mean you brought me over here to tell

you how to call up an employment agency?

- I didn't. You volunteered.

- Are you implying...?

I'm not implying anything except

I don't know how to run an apartment.

I gave them a vacation.

They walked in, walked out on me.

- They didn't even give me notice.

- Probably couldn't find you.

Look at this apartment.

And that dust and those ashes.

And look at that piano.

I'm admitting it.

All I need's a little advice.

- All you need is advice.

- Oh, I'm getting along swell.

You sound as though

you're feeling sorry for yourself.

You always were a sentimentalist,

my boy.

- That's why you were a great songwriter.

- What do you mean "were"?

Just that. You haven't written a thing

since you had an empty stomach.

"Were," indeed.

- What's this? One of your shirts?

- I don't know.

Go on, open it up.

A dust cloth.

Come on, open it again.

Oh.

Hey, don't throw that away.

It's a new tune.

New? It's been hanging around here

for over a year.

I know, but I was

gonna work on it tomorrow.

Oh, yeah, manana.

Don't throw away anything

with notes on it.

- It might go down in history.

- Mm-hm.

You and Beethoven.

Say, that's not bad.

What's that?

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