The Man Who Came to Dinner Page #4

Try her tomorrow in Phoenix.

Now, let me see.

Send a wire to the editor

of The Atlantic Monthly:

"Do not worry, Stinky.

Copy will arrive on time. Whiteside."

Send a cable to

the Duchess of Windsor:

"Dear Wally, can you and David meet

me in Miami, February 20th?

Dinner, 8:
30. Whiteside."

I see no reason why I should endorse

Snug-Fit brassiere.

- What date's this?

- December 10th.

Send a wire to

American Broadcasting:

"Schedule my Christmas Eve broadcast

from your New York studio...

...as I shall return East instead

of proceeding to Hollywood. Stop.

For New Year's Eve broadcast,

we'll have as guests...

...Jascha Heifetz, Helen Hayes,

Schiaparelli, the Lunts, Dr. Alexis Carrel.

With Haile Selassie on shortwave

from Addis Ababa. Whiteside."

Well, what do you want now,

Miss Stomach Pump?

It's your pills. One every 45 minutes.

Thermometer puss.

If that's for Mrs. Stanley,

tell them she's too drunk to talk.

Hello? Yes.

What? Palm Beach?

Oh, just a moment.

It's your dear friend,

Miss Lorraine Sheldon.

Oh, give it to me.

Hello.

Is this my blossom girl?

Sherry, you poor, sweet darling.

Are you all right?

I haven't been able to think

of anything else...

...since this awful thing happened.

You poor lamb.

- You fool!

- Sorry, madame.

No, no. That was Cosette.

Darling, how you must have suffered.

I know. I know.

Me? Oh, I'm wretched.

I can't find a play, Sherry, dear.

I just don't think I'll ever act again.

Tell me, blossom, what made you take

your white body to Palm Beach?

- Who's holding you captive?

- Oh, Lord Bottomley's in from London.

Some mission or other.

Now, look, darling.

Take care of that sweet little hip,

will you?

And here's a big kiss

from your blossom girl.

Sorry, madame.

- Goodbye, darling.

- Goodbye, my lotus blossom.

"My lotus blossom."

Little Miss Stinkweed.

Pure jealousy if I ever saw it.

Give me those wires.

Lorraine Sheldon, Lord Bottomley,

my Aunt Fanny.

If these people intend their friends

to use the front door...

What should they use,

a rope ladder?

I will not have itinerant firemen

rushing in and out of this house.

- Good morning, Mr. Jefferson.

- Morning, John. Mr. Whiteside in?

- Yes, sir.

- There's nobody home.

The Stanleys have been arrested

for peddling dope. Go away.

Good morning. I'm Jefferson

of the Mesalia Journal.

- Remember? I met you at the station.

- Get rid of him, Maggie.

I'm sorry, Mr. Jefferson.

Mr. Whiteside is seeing no one.

- Really?

- So will you excuse us?

Mr. Whiteside seems to be sitting up

and taking notice.

I'm afraid he's not taking notice

of the Mesalia Journal.

If I'm gonna be insulted,

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