Sorry, Wrong Number Page #4

Mrs. Lord?

One moment, please.

- That for me, Pete?

- No. A lady for Mommy.

I don't know why you're not asleep.

Will you do something

about Peter still being up?

Now, where was I?

Oh, yes.

"...that the said

Henry Stevenson did..."

- Is that Bayonne or Cicero there?

- Bayonne.

The Bayonne Plant

of the Cotterell Corporation.

Headquarters on Staten Island?

20 Dunstan Terrace,

Staten Island.

- Hello?

- Hello, Mrs. Lord?

- This is she.

- This is Mrs. Henry Stevenson.

I don't believe we've met,

but I understand...

you saw my husband this afternoon.

- Yes, yes.

- As it so happens, Mrs. Lord...

my husband hasn't

come home this evening.

I can't locate him. I thought

perhaps you might give me some idea.

- Oh, yes.

- I can't hear you, Mrs. Lord.

- Will you please speak up a little?

- Oh, certainly.

Is there anything wrong? You're not

keeping something from me, I hope.

Oh, no, no.

Could I call you back, please?

- Call me back? Why?

- Because I...

- It's my bridge day, you know.

- What's that?

What has bridge got to do with it?

Excuse me...

but I don't understand you

at all, Mrs. Lord.

I'm sorry. And then...

there's that excursion

to Roton Point.

- Who is it?

- Look, Mrs. Lord...

are you trying

to make fun of me?

Just in case you don't happen

to know it, I'm a hopeless invalid.

- I'll give you the recipe.

- What are you talking about?

Is my husband there with you?

Is he? Tell me the truth!

It's three eggs separated,

two measuring cups of milk...

a third of a cup of shortening.

Cream the shortening with sugar,

then add a tablespoon of flour.

Leona, just a minute.

This is Sally.

Sally Hunt, Leona.

Sally? Sally Hunt?

I'm sorry to be so ridiculous,

but I can't talk now.

Mommy, you want me to ask Daddy to

stop typing so you can talk better?

- Darling, please go to sleep.

- All right, Mom.

It's impossible to explain now.

I'll call you back as soon as I can.

- Now, where's she gone?

- Yes, dear?

I thought you'd gone out again.

Joe'd like a bottle of beer.

Got any on ice?

No, Fred, I don't believe so.

But I'll go down to the store.

- Okay, honey.

- Thanks, Sally.

- Let's see. Where were we?

- Better start a new paragraph.

Sally Hunt.

May I cut in?

You don't mind, do you, Sally?

It's an old Spanish custom...

the hag line.

I'm Leona Cotterell.

What's your name?

- This is Mr. Henry Stevenson.

- Hello, Henry. Shall we dance?

If you don't mind, miss,

it's the man who does the picking.

All right, go ahead.

Why don't you get somebody

your own speed? That is...

I'm sure there are

better dancers around.

You'll do all right. Leona

knows her way around the floor.

Did you say

Rate this script:4.7 / 3 votes