The Great Lie

Dirty pigs.

Expecting me to clear up this mess.

Fourteen dollars a week.

Poor devils. I don't suppose

they'll get up today too.

I don't know where to start in this place.

Oh, well, I suppose I'd better get

back to this. I'll get these cleaned up.

They're both asleep.

- They are?

- A nice-looking place this is, isn't it?

- Still a party?

- Till dawn.

They've made a madhouse of this

apartment since they were married.

Oh, but I have to know

about Philadelphia.

I'm going to see her.

I've got to know.

I've got know.

She told the reporters she was going on

with her career.

You're the husband.

Guilty.

Do you realize that Madam Kovak is due

to play with the Philadelphia Symphony...

...on Tuesday?

- Yes. The piano.

Mr. Van Allen,

your lawyer called three times.

- He wants to see you. It's important.

- Thank you.

- He called yesterday.

- Why didn't you tell me?

- I did.

- You did?

- You were saying something, sir?

- I am madam's manager.

She's due in Philadelphia, Tuesday.

House is sold out.

- I've got to know.

- Well, you sit right down here now.

I know little about madam's

musical talent. I just married the lady.

Oh, an artist like Madam Kovak

should be married in a cathedral.

A wedding of importance.

Everything she does is of importance.

Instead of which she runs away

like a chorus girl.

Yeah. It was all very impulsive,

wasn't it?

- Would you like a drink?

- No.

- Cigarette?

- No.

Morning paper? Maybe a sedative

to cool you off and quiet you down.

- No.

- Would you like a glass of milk?

Well, what do you want?

There's only one thing I want.

Madam Kovak.

I've got to see Madam Kovak

and I'm going to wait until I do.

Well, sleep tight.

The house is yours.

What's that...?

What's that peculiar smell around here?

Fresh air. I've just opened the window.

Oh, yes.

Skoal?

- Hello, Jock.

- Hello.

- How's the lawyer?

- How's the bridegroom?

Not so good.

You could've told a friend, who's your

lawyer, you intended to marry Sandra.

- You looked on the wine, I take it.

- You may take it. I did.

You haven't been out in daylight

for a week.

Well, there's something

about that woman.

There must be.

She's a great pianist, a great beauty.

But after all, marriage is a step.

- It's a leap.

- In the dark.

Well, it's morning now.

Seriously, Pete.

Are you going through with this?

- Well, we're married.

- That's just it.

- What?

- You're not.

- What do you mean we're not married?

- Sandra's divorce wasn't final.

Well, don't be silly. She gave that party

to celebrate her final divorce.

You climaxed the party

by getting married.

That's what they told me

when I woke up.

Look, Pete, her divorce decree

cannot be entered until next Tuesday.

- The lady got her dates mixed.

- You mean, we're not really married?

Not unless you do it again.

If you wanna go through with this, you'll

have to marry her soberly and legally.

It will all be arranged very simply for you

to be married by a judge, if you want to.

Come out and have lunch

and we'll talk it over.

Oh, no.

No.

What I need is some nice,

clean fresh air.

I know where I can get it.

- You'd better pull yourself together, Pete.

- Don't worry. I will. Thanks very much.

So long, Pete.

Mr. Pete.

Violet, Violet.

What is it?

It's Mr. Pete, flying down from the sky

like an angel of the Lord.

Hush your mouth.

Don't go calling that man's name.

He ain't coming here no more.

He's on his honeymoon, he is.

How are you, Mr. Pete?

Hello, Jefferson.

- Been raining?

- Yes, sir. Been pouring down.

- Where's Miss Maggie?

- Violet's right in there.

She's the one that knows

about Miss Maggie's whereabouts.

Man, did you see that old airplane

come a-raring and a-snorting?

Man, I sure did.

Hello, Violet.

No use using that whistle, Mr. Pete.

That sound belongs to the days

that is gone.

Where's Miss Maggie?

Mr. Pete, if you take my advice,

you'll get right back in that airplane...

...and fly away like a bird

right back where you come from.

I've just arrived and I wanna

see Miss Maggie. Where is she?

Mr. Pete, if you take my advice,

you'll get right back in that airplane and...

Now, nobody ain't gonna use

no force, Mr. Pete.

If your conscience don't keep you

from going up, your manners should.

Just think, Mr. Pete.

I have been thinking.

The whole of the morning.

We has had our thoughts too.

And they ain't been very good company.

Violet.

Yes, Miss Maggie.

Your name ain't Violet, Mr. Pete.

My goodness, honey child.

Lay down before you catch more cold.

Is he drinking?

What do you care if he's drinking

or if he ain't?

Tell him I'm busy and I've got a cold.

- Are you taking your medicine?

- Yes.

I'm much better.

I don't wanna see him anyway.

That's what I told him

but I'll tell him again.

You go down and be nice

and polite now.

Tell him I've got a cold,

that I'm busy and that I...

I can't see him, can I?

No, Miss Maggie. You can't.

Well?

Why not?

Don't ask me the reason why not.

Just tell me the reason why.

She's got a bad cold, Miss Maggie has.

How did she catch it?

Walking in the rain alone.

Then coming home soaking wet

and sitting down thinking...

...and forgetting she's wet.

Thinking so hard about someone

or something.

Oh, I see.

We sees too, Mr. Pete.

We sees the papers.

It's a fine thing when you read news

about your friends in the papers.

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