The Snows of Kilimanjaro Page #3

- Harry!

- Emile!

[ French ]

- Bonsoir.

- Bonsoir.

Et, quelle est votre dsir?

In English, that's quite a question.

[ French ]

Now, from other sources.

[ Woman Laughing ]

- Hi, Compton.

- Harry! How's the book?

How's anybody's book?

It isn't finished.

Harry, did you quit

your job to do it?

Look, do you mind if I cut in?

- Uh-uh-uh! Forage for yourself, chum.

- [ Laughing ]

Oh, Harry, you don't stay?

It's a case of avoiding

a broken nose, Emile--

mine or old Compton's --

because a laugh like hers would

just have to lead it to a lousy fight.

Bonsoir.

[ Slow Jazz ]

Please.

Thanks. I'm Cynthia.

Cynthia Green.

Cyn. That's nice.

- When did you come in?

- Oh, minutes ago.

I'll be hanged.

The latest thing from home.

- I'm , uh--

- Harry Street, Chicago Tribune. And you write.

Ex-Chicago Tribune.

And I'm trying to write.

Well, they're telling it the other way.

Do you mind?

Well, everybody's trying

something over here.

Or at least trying to try.

What are you trying to do?

Are you trying to paint?

No, I'm not trying to paint.

- Are you trying to sculpt?

- No, I'm not trying to sculpt.

Then you must be trying

to write too.

No. I'm only trying to be happy.

Well, everybody's trying something.

I'll bet I'm the only person in the whole

darn place who's only trying to be happy.

You'd better take this from me.

I sometimes drink too much.

Anything's fair

in the pursuit of happiness.

Oh, I'm not completely idle.

I-- I pose sometimes.

In what my maiden aunt calls

"the altogether" ?

Sometimes.

We all have to make our way

with whatever we were given.

Oh, hasn't that African

got any piety at all?

Uh...

I'm remembering my manners.

Are you... Compton's lady?

No. I'm not particularly

Compton's lady.

I'm not Compton's lady at all.

I'm my own lady.

How would you like it if you and I

would just " piety" right out of here?

I expect I'd like it very much.

[ Ends ]

[ Bell Tolling ]

My father was a soldier.

He had the bad luck

to get himself killed in the Argonne.

So, after the war I came over...

to take him home to rest.

But once I saw France, I decided

that this is as good a place to rest as any...

for him and for myself.

So I stayed on.

- No mother?

- No, not for years.

I see.

Well, uh...

where shall we go

and rest right now?

Would you like to go and rest

in another bar, have another drink?

No, I'm afraid I've gone

and had too many again.

You know, in Paris...

nobody ever thinks of suggesting

just going home... to rest.

May I have a cigarette?

Could you... conceivably

picture yourself as Harry's lady?

Will you be kind to me?

I think I'm a little afraid of you.

[ Harry's Voice ] There are so many things

Rate this script:3.0 / 2 votes