Complete Works of F. Scott Fitzgerald (Illustrated) (515 page)

ALTHEA: Shall I be glad or sorry?

NICOLAS: It gave me an idea. I’ll ride to Quarantine with you and come back on the tug.

ALTHEA (catching his arm and starting him out the door): You will not. I won’t have you catch some foreign disease.

NICOLAS (resisting): Quarantine is only where they halt the immigrants’ships.

ALTHEA: Then why do they call it Quarantine?

NOTE: Althea has no “screwball” affectations but is clinging to any talk that distracts her.

As they go out of the cabin -

The embarkation desk crowded with good-byes. Nicolas and Althea come out and make their way to the rail beside the gangplank.

ALTHEA: They wouldn’t call it Quarantine if —

NICOLAS: I tell you it doesn’t mean disease.

Althea waves at someone on the dock. His eyes follow.

ALTHEA; There’s Charles.

Medium shot of crowd on dock. Close-up of uniformed chauffeur waving his cap. Two-shot of the deck: Nicolas and Althea waving back.

ALTHEA: Charles wouldn’t say that about Quarantine. (She chokes back her tears, turns suddenly to Nicolas, takes hold of his upper arms and says in a quiet voice:) You’re my man — you know it, don’t you? (He looks at her unsmiling.) You know I’d die for you this second or any second, and I haven’t any life in the world apart from you. You know it, don’t you?

He smiles just slightly and nods. There is a great din from the gongs and now the crowd pushes over and through them, scrambling for the dock. Nicolas and Althea arc borne apart by the rush. Close-up of Althea, raising her voice a little to reach him.

ALTHEA: You know it, don’t you? You’re aware of it, aren’t you, Mister?

Close-up of Nicolas borne, resisting, with the crowd, trying to stop by the gangway rope. A man bumps against him

MAN: Beg pardon.

NICOLAS: I beg your pardon. (He looks back at Althea.) Close-up of Althea: She cups her hands. ALTHEA: Know it? Close-up of Nicolas pushed farther down gangway. Agonized, he makes a hugging gesture with his arms. Close-up of Althea with tears on her cheeks. Medium shot of Nicolas at bottom of gangway walking backward.

Close shot of Nicolas: He trips — his chauffeur catches him. Nicolas hardly notices that he has tripped. He and the chauffeur fight their way to the dock railing.

Medium shot of the boat from the dock: Passengers waving.

Two-shot of Nicolas and chauffeur.

NICOLAS: Which is she? Where is she?

CHAUFFEUR: There — on the boat, sir.

NICOLAS: Where? Where?

CHAUFFEUR (pointing stupidly): She’s one of those people.

NICOLAS (passionately): No, she’s not — she’s something entirely different! Close-up of Althea on the deck, her face in a set smile, automatically waving a handkerchief.

Close-up of Nicolas seeing her, his face lighting up. Whistles and horns are blowing. Medium shot of the ship — moving. Close-up of Althea, her handkerchief blowing from her hand. The camera follows it as it flutters down the side of the ship.

Close-up of Nicolas seeing the handkerchief, his eyes following it down. He starts from scene. Medium shot of the ship pulling away, Close-up of handkerchief landing on dock, still fluttering along under dock lights in the breeze from the boat.

Camera trucks after Nicolas as he runs out dock where the crowd is thinner. He stops, waves toward the boat and goes on. His face is serious as he pursues the handkerchief. He almost has it when with a last little jump it disappears over the side of the dock. He looks after it, then he looks after the boat.

Long shot of boat in the distance.

Nicolas raises his hand to wave but realizes the boat is too far away. It is difficult for him to realize Althea has actually gone.

Apartment house on Park Avenue.

Nicolas gets out of has car and walks in.

Magnificent duplex apartment: Starks admits Nicolas.

NOTE: In this retrospective, even Starks clothes are a different type than in the contemporary part of the picture.

NICOLAS: Hello, Starks.

Camera trucks Nicolas through, the dining room, with Starks following.

STARKS: Did Madame get off all right?

NICOLAS: Don’t let’s — mention Madame for a i Phone rings.

STARKS: A Mrs. Holland has called several times.

NICOLAS (now at the buffet in dining room): Didn’t her Mrs. Gilbert was sailing?

STARKS: She asked for you, sir.

NICOLAS (mixing a drink): Asked for me? I don’t speak to her. (Drinks.) She may be beautiful to some. (Drinks.) She always reminds me of a monkey. (Finish.) I’m going to bed.

Nicolas’bedroom: He is in pajamas, sitting on the the bed, taking off his slippers. A cigarette burns on table. Phone rings; absentmindedly, he picks it up.

NICOLAS: Hello — hello. (At the response, his face starts to bang up, wishing he’d let it ring. With artificial enthusiasm:) Oh, hello. What brings you here... yes, I know you live here (curses to himself) but I thought you were away — in India or somewhere (he lowers the phone from his mouth while he picks up the cigarette from the night table. He speaks impatiently to

himself:), or in the zoo.

WOMAN’S VOICE (on phone): I read in the paper that Althea sailed today.

NICOLAS: Yes, she did.

VOICE: So I sprang to the phone, thinking, “Now that he’s unprotected, I can try again.”

Nicolas nods grimly at the phone. Then an idea strikes him.

NICOLAS (confidentially): As a matter of fact, you can come right over. I don’t think Althea’s coming back at all.

VOICE (startled): What?

NICOLAS: Fact — she’s leaving me. Listen — come in by the window, will you?

VOICE (startled): The window?

NICOLAS (very confidentially): Climb up the side of the building. There’s a big parade of baby pandas coming in the door. That’s what Althea couldn’t understand — that’s why she left me — (A click at the other end. Nick looks at the phone, smiles and bangs up).

Insert — envelope: Nicolas Gilbert, Esq. To be opened the first day.

Insert — another envelope: Nicolas Gilbert, Esq. To be opened the second day.

And so on, with flashes of two more envelopes.

An office. Morning. It is very smart and important but not the same office that Nicolas occupies now. Nicolas — the cheery, spirited Nicolas of two years ago — comes in, just arriving for his morning’s work. A woman, apparently his secretary, is seated at a typewriter with her back to him and does not rise as he comes in. He gives her a faintly surprised glance, forgets her, sits down and opens the top drawer of his desk. Two envelopes, addressed to him in Althea’s writing, remain. He puts one back in the drawer and looks at the other.

Insert — envelope: Nicolas Gilbert, Esq. To be opened the fifth day.

Nicolas opens it and spreads it out before him. Woman at typewriter steals a side-glance at him. Iris Jones is about thirty, well preserved, healthy and with a certain charm. Any man would look at her twice, but she is cast as one who has not the special hallmarks by which privileged classes identify each other. She runs her words together in a way Althea would not, and though Althea uses a racier vernacular, her slang seems always within quotes. It is important that she be cast as a small-town girl. She turns back to the desk.

Nicolas continues to read the letter. He is absorbed and intent.

The door of the office opens very quietly, disclosing the same Miss Crane we have met before the retrospective, but, of corse, in a noticeably different costume. She looks at Iris and smiles like a conspirator.

Iris, seeing her, smiles back mischievously, hand at her lips. Miss Crane, smiling, withdraws quietly. Nicolas finishes the letter and puts it in a locked drawer which we see contains the open sheets of other letters in Althea’s writing. He snaps out of his dream and stands up. NICOLAS: Well. Miss Crane, suppose we forge onward and upward.

Close shot of Iris, her back still turned.

Iris: Yes, Mr. Gilbert.

NICOLAS (pacing): The position of a Vice-President — (The fact of a strange voice suddenly penetrates bis consciousness and he stands still.) What’s that?

Iris: I only said, “Yes, Mr. Gilbert.”

Nicolas walks swiftly toward her — as he nears, she swings around, facing him, gravely smiling.

NICOLAS: Iris Jones! (He takes hold of her arms.) Iris!

Iris: I fooled you. I was pretending to be pour secretary again. They look at each other. She is smiling but her eyes are a little frightened. Nicolas conceals a lot going on in his mind by retaining his mood of astonishment.

NICOLAS (letting go of her arms and straightening up): Iris! Well, sit down.

IRIS: I am sitting down. But I can stand up. (She does so. Smiles at him, trying to be just an old friend, but adoring him.)

NICOLAS: I can’t believe it. Come here. (To conceal his momentary confusion be walks back toward his own desk and sits down. She follows and stands beside him.) Iris! (He shakes his head.) Sit down. (She looks about — there’s no chair. She half sits on desk.) Here, let me get you a chair. (He rises and goes over to chair where she’s been sitting, brings it over and points at it.) Here, sit down. (He sits down it himself.)

NOTE: Gag ends here — don’t plug it.

NICOLAS: I haven’t seen you for five years.

Iris: Almost six years.

NICOLAS: Iris! Iris (pretty upset herself): You were the first man who ever called me Iris. I used to be Irene, but the day before I got the job as your secretary, I found Iris in a book called The Green Hat.

NICOLAS: Are you still Iris?

Iris: Yes — and still Iris Jones. Though perhaps it won’t be long now.

NICOLAS: You’re getting married?

Iris: I think so. I came to New York to see it once more and sort of make up my mind. I live upstate.

NICOLAS: Where?

Iris: Oh, upstate. You know — at the top of the map. In a little town.

NICOLAS: Hiding out, eh? You think I’m going to pursue you there?

Iris: No, I know all about you. (Pause.)

NICOLAS (thoughtfully): I didn’t forgive my father for — spiriting you away. One morning you just weren’t here — that’s all. And I got your note. It was months before I realized that father had done it.

Iris: You’ve forgiven him now, haven’t you?

NICOLAS: Yes. (Seeing her face fall ever so slightly.) Not altogether. We had happy times, you and I.

A luncheon table in a crowded downtown restaurant a few hours latter. Nicolas and Iris have just finished lunch.

IRIS: I’m glad your marriage is happy, and I’m glad I’m glad.

NICOLAS: That’s like you.

Waiter comes into the scene. Nicolas pays the check during the next speech.

IRIS: I wasn’t always glad. I hated her at first — her picture in the paper in the fur coat she was always used to — and you gave me my first one. But then I got to like her face — very brave — and loyal — and I knew she’d never let you down — she’d take care of you as long as you live.

NICOLAS: Do women really fret about men — or do they just pretend to?

IRIS (considering — granting it to her sex): They fret a lot.

NICOLAS: If Althea had married someone else, I’d want her to come to a bad end.

IRIS: Do you want me to come to a bad end?

NICOLAS (affectionately): Not you.

IRIS (matter of factly): Because you never cared very deeply.

NICOLAS: Bunk — I hate that talk about “the only girl I ever loved.” I loved you once, Iris — for a year I thought you were the only person in the world. Why do I have to lose that? Why do I have to deny it or belittle it? It was there — it was me.

Two-shot, with the camera favoring

Iris, her eyes shining with gratitude.

NICOLAS (getting up): And now, I love Althea — probably loving you taught me what love was about.

Small hotel: Night. Nicolas in dinner coat and black soft hat, helping Iris out of taxi.

IRIS: Thanks, it was wonderful. It was like old times — almost. (Pause.)

NICOLAS (with a friendly smile): Now wouldn’t it be silly if it was like old times — completely? Wouldn’t it? It would spoil everything.

IRIS (naturally): Good heavens — I realize that. I wouldn’t even like you if you made love to me.

NICOLAS: When do we meet?

IRIS (rather startled): Well, I was going home tomorrow.

NICOLAS (scoffing): You’ve only been here three days. And I’m lonesome. Who could be better company? I think even Althea would approve. (Lightly.) I’m phoning her tomorrow, and if it didn’t cost five dollars a minute, I’d even tell her about it!

A telephone switchboard: An operator is working.

OPERATOR: Mr. Nicolas Gilbert is calling Mrs. Nicolas Gilbert at the Lombardi Hotel, Florence, Italy.

Another switchboard.

OPERATOR (Italian type): Signora Gilbert — un momento, aspetti, prego... Signora Gilbert?