The Company She Keeps Page #3

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Larry. Not convicts.

Excuse me. Excuse me. Parolees.

How about a drink?

I can't.

I'm sorry about dinner.

Ah...

The fourth time in a row.

I know.

I don't think much of your girl, either.

I'll have another Martini, Jim.

Baby, I don't know what

I'm going to do with you.

Most kids say:

"I think I'll be a Countess when I grow

up or a fireman or Jane Russell."

But not you. No. You said, when I grow

up I'm going to be a Parole Officer.

I'll never have dinner

with the man I love...

As I'll always be eating

out with a pigeon.

Parolee.

What do I have to do to get

you to marry me? Rob a bank?

I don't think that would help.

I've been waiting a long time, Joan.

Why don't you marry me

and take me out of all this?

Larry.

Okay... I'll stop bothering you.

If you stopped bothering me,

I don't know what I'd do.

Darling.

Don't you think you're being very silly

tossing me on the open market like this?

I tell you. I'll be snapped

up like hot cakes.

I'll have to take that chance.

Okay. Now, how about that drink?

Tell you what, I'll buy you both one.

That's a chocolate sundae with

chocolate ice-cream and nuts.

Lots of whipped cream and

heavy on the sauce. Okay.

Sure! Sure, that's what I had in mind.

Okay, Jim.

Tell Mr Connors I had

to leave. I'll call him,

Yes, madam.

Diane.

I told you I didn't want

anyone to know here. Anyone.

Turn that sign off, Diane.

What sign?

In big letters.

"I just come from prison".

No-one will know unless you tell them.

Men always asks questions.

You know that.

I didn't have a story ready.

Larry's a friend. Besides,

I asked him here to see me.

Because he's your friend?

He wouldn't look at me I suppose?

You'd be surprised.

Look, Diane.

I asked you out tonight

because you're alone here.

Most of the other girls

have families to come to.

This is a new town for you.

You have no-one.

You think that alone, I'd get

into trouble. Is that it?

No, that not it.

It was your first evening.

I wanted you to have a good time.

So... it was nice of you.

And now you don't have to

see me again for thirty days.

You report to my office on

the 12th of each month.

If you should need me in the meantime...

I won't.

I hope not.

Well... sleep well and late.

You don't have to report for work

until eight o'clock tomorrow night.

Night?

Well... I thought I told you.

The night shift?

That's right. We'll see if we can

get you on the day shift later.

Hah... thanks for leaving

the best until the last.

There goes my social life.

Goodnight, Miss Wilburn.

Something wrong with rolling my own?

It's a prison habit.

I wouldn't do it outside.

Goodnight.

Thanks, Reg.

Anybody else got a check?

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