Lincoln Page #7

MARY (CONT'D)

That's the ship you're sailing on.

The Thirteenth Amendment. You

needn't tell me I'm right. I know I

am.

She watches as he leaves the room, smiling in bitter victory:

she's right.

10.

INT. HALLWAY, LEAVING MARY'S BOUDOIR - NIGHT

Lincoln encounters ELIZABETH KECKLEY, a light-skinned black

woman, 38, Mary's dressmaker and close friend, holding a dark-

blue velvet bodice embroidered with jet beads.

LINCOLN:

It's late, Mrs. Keckley.

ELIZABETH KECKLEY

(holding out the bodice:)

She needs this for the grand

reception.

Lincoln bends down to look at the intricate beading.

ELIZABETH KECKLEY (CONT'D)

It's slow work.

He nods, smiles, straightens up.

LINCOLN:

Good night.

He continues down the hall. Mrs. Keckley starts to enter

Mary's boudoir, then stops, sensing something amiss. She

calls quietly after Lincoln:

ELIZABETH KECKLEY

(concerned, a little

EXASPERATED:
)

Did you tell her a dream?

INT. LINCOLN'S OFFICE, SECOND FLOOR, WHITE HOUSE - NIGHT

A working room, sparsely furnished. Lincoln's desk is heaped

with files, books, newspapers. The desk's near a window, now

open. Comfortable chairs and a rocker are in a corner. Near

the fireplace, in which embers are dying, there's a long

table, eight chairs around it, settings by each chair of

inkwells and pens.

Dozens of maps cover the walls and the crowded bookcases.

Lincoln opens the door and enters to find his 10 year-old son

TAD LINCOLN near the hearth, sleeping, sprawled on a very

large military map. Lead toy soldiers are scattered across

it.

A large mahogany box, imprinted ALEXANDER GARDNER STUDIOS,

is open near Tad's head. The box contains large glass plates,

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