Hey.
Hey, baby. What's going on here?
Oh, hi.
Miss Golightly.
Some day... Some day...
Miss Golightly.
What happened to you, anyway?
You take off for the powder room and that's the last I see you.
- Now, really, Harry... - Harry was the other guy.
I'm Sid. Sid Arbuck. You like me, remember?
Miss Golightly, I protest!
Oh, darling, I am sorry, but I lost my key.
But that was two weeks ago.
You cannot go on and keep ringing my bell.
You disturb me! You must have a key made!
But it won't do any good. I just lose them all.
Come on, baby. You like me. You know you do.
I worship you, Mr. Arbuck...
- but good night, Mr. Arbuck. - Baby, wait a minute. What is this?
You like me. I'm a liked guy.
You like me, baby. You know you do.
Didn't I pick up the check for five people?
Your friends. I've never seen them before.
And when you asked for a little change for the powder room...
what do I give you? A $50 bill.
Now doesn't that give me some rights?
In 30 seconds I going to call the police!
All the time disturbance! I get no sleep!
I got to get my rest! I'm an artist!
I am going to call the vice squad on you!
Don't be angry, you dear little man, I won't do it again.
If you promise not to be angry...
I might let you take those pictures we mentioned.
When?
Sometime.
Anytime.
Good night.
I'm sorry to bother you, but I couldn't get the downstairs door open.
I guess they sent me the upstairs key.
I couldn't get the downstairs door open.
I said, I guess they sent me the upstairs key.
I couldn't get the downstairs door open. I'm sorry to wake you.
That's quite all right.
It could happen to anyone, quite frequently does. Good night.
I hate to...
I hate to bother you, but if I could ask one more favor...
could I use the phone?
Sure.
Why not?
Thank you.
Well, this is...
a nice little place you've got here.
- You just moved in, too, huh? - No. I've been here about a year.
The phone's over there.
Well, it was.
Oh, I remember.
I stuck it in the suitcase. Kind of muffles the sound.
I'm sorry.
- Is he all right? - Sure.
Sure. He's okay, aren't you, cat?
Poor old cat.
Poor slob. Poor slob without a name.
The way I look at it, I don't have the right to give him one.
We don't belong to each other. We just took up by the river one day.
I don't even want to own anything...
until I find a place where me and things go together.
I'm not sure where that is, but I know what it's like.
It's like Tiffany's.
Tiffany's? You mean the jewelry store?
That's right.
I'm crazy about Tiffany's.
Listen.
You know those days when you get the mean reds?
The mean reds? You mean like the blues?
No.
The blues are because you're getting fat or maybe it's been raining too long.
You're just sad, that's all.
The mean reds are horrible.
Suddenly you're afraid and you don't know what you're afraid of.
- Do you ever get that feeling? - Sure.
Well, when I get it, the only thing that does any good...
is to jump into a cab and go to Tiffany's.
Calms me down right away.
The quietness and the proud look of it.
Nothing very bad could happen to you there.
If I could find a real-life place...
that made me feel like Tiffany's, then...
Then I'd buy some furniture and give the cat a name.
I'm sorry. You wanted something.
The telephone.
It's just that I was supposed to meet somebody.
I mean, this is 10:00 Thursday morning, isn't it?
I just got off a plane from Rome and I'm not too sure.
Thursday. Is this Thursday?
- I think so. - Thursday! Oh, no, it can't be!
It's too gruesome.
Well, what's so gruesome about Thursday?
Nothing, except I can never remember when it's coming up.
Wednesdays, I generally just don't go to bed at all...
because I have to be up to catch the 10:45.
And they're so particular about visiting hours.
Would you be a darling and look under the bed...
and see if you can find a pair of alligator shoes?
Sure.
I've got to do something about the way I look.
I mean, a girl just can't go to Sing Sing with a green face.
Sing Sing?
Yes, I always thought it was a ridiculous name for a prison.
Sing Sing, I mean. It sounds more like it should be an opera house or something.
Black alligator.
You know, all the visitors make an effort to look their best. It's only fair.
Actually, it's very touching, all the women wearing their prettiest things.
I just love them for it. And I love the kids, too.
I mean the kids the wives bring.
It should be sad seeing kids there, but it isn't.
They all have ribbons in their hair and lots of shine on their shoes.
You'd think there was going to be ice cream.
Now, as I understand it, what we're doing is getting you ready...
- to visit somebody at Sing Sing. - That's right.
You can always tell what kind of person a man really thinks you are...
by the earrings he gives you.
I must say, the mind reels.
May I ask whom?
Whom what? Oh, whom I go to visit, you mean?
I guess that's what I mean.
I don't know that I should even discuss it.
Well, they never told me not to tell anyone.
You must cross your heart and kiss your elbow.
I'll try.
You probably read about him. His name's Sally Tomato.
Sally Tomato?
Well, don't look so shocked.
They could never prove for a second...
that he was even part of the Mafia, much less head of it, my dear.
The only thing they did prove was that he cheated his income tax a little.
Anyway, all I know is that he's a darling old man.
Oh, he was never my lover or anything like that.
In fact, I never knew him until after he was in prison.
But I adore him now.
I mean, I've been going to see him every Thursday for seven months.
Now I think I'd go even if he didn't pay me.
- Shoes. - I could only find one.
He pays you?
That's right. Or anyway his lawyer does.
If he is a lawyer, which I doubt, since he doesn't seem to have an office...
only an answering service.
And he always wants to meet you at Hamburger Heaven.
There you are, you sneak. Thank you.
You're welcome.
Dress. Dress.
Here we are. Bag and a hat, too.
There we are.
Anyway, about seven months ago, this so-called lawyer, Mr. O'Shaughnessy...
asked me how I'd like to cheer up a lonely old man...
and pick up $100 a week at the same time.
I told him, "Look, darling, you've got the wrong Holly Golightly".
A girl can do as well as that on trips to the powder room.
I mean, any gentleman with the slightest chic...
will give a girl a $50 bill for the powder room.
And I always ask for cab fare, too. That's another $50.
But then he said his client was Sally Tomato.
He said dear old Sally had seen me at Elmo's or somewhere...
and had admired me à la distance.
So wouldn't it be a good deed if I were to visit him once a week?
Well, how could I say no? It was all so wildly romantic.
How do I look?
Very good. I must say I'm amazed.
You were a darling to help, I could never have done it without you.
- Bag. - Call me anytime.
I'm just upstairs, or I will be as soon as I get moved in.
Bye, cat.
You mean he gives you $100 for an hour's conversation?
Well, Mr. O'Shaughnessy does as soon as I meet him...
and give him the weather report.
Look, it's none of my business, but it sounds to me...
like you could get in a lot of trouble.
Hold this for me, will you?
And what do you mean, "weather report"?
Oh, that's just a message I give Mr. O'Shaughnessy.
So he'll know I've really been up there.
Sally tells me things to say like...
"There's a hurricane in Cuba"...
and, "It's cloudy over Palermo". Things like that.
You don't have to worry. I've taken care of myself for a long time.
Taxi!
- I never could do that. - It's easy.
Paul.
I'm late. I know it.
Don't tell me you were locked out? Didn't you get the key?
Oh, darling. I'm so sorry.
No, I got the key, all right.
Miss Golightly, my neighbor, was kind enough to let me in.
Miss Golightly's on her way to Sing Sing.
- Oh? - Just visiting, of course.
Miss Golightly, Mrs. Failenson, my decorator.
- How do you do? - How do you do?
Darling. Let me look at you.
- Are you through? - Was the flight absolutely ghastly?
I'm in a terrible rush.
Grand Central Station, and step on it, darling.
Is it really only three weeks since I left you in Rome?
Seems like years.
- You seen the apartment? - Not yet.
I know it was wicked of me, but I couldn't resist.
I went ahead and fixed it up without you.
I think it's darling of course...
but if you absolutely hate it, we can rip everything up and start from scratch.
Miss Golightly!
Hey, baby! Where you going?
Come on, baby. Open the door.
Be a pal.
You're breaking up a beautiful party.
Come on, baby. Open the door.
Hey, the band's swinging.
Come on, baby.
Miss Golightly. Once again, I must protest!
If you don't stop that phonograph right this minute...
I'm going to call the police department!
Yeah. That's more better.
What's the matter, baby?
Come on. You're a great kid. Open the door.
Come on, baby. I'm waiting for you.
- It's all right. It's only me. - Now, wait a minute. Miss...
Golightly. Holly Golightly.
I live downstairs. We met this morning, remember?
Yeah.
It's all right. She's gone.
I must say, she works late hours for a decorator.
The thing is, I have the most terrifying man downstairs.
I mean, he's sweet when he isn't drunk...
but let him start lapping up the vino, and oh, golly, quel beast.
It finally got so tiresome down there, I just went out the window.
Look, you can throw me out if you want to...
but you did look so cozy in here, and your decorator friend had gone home...
and it was beginning to get a bit cold out there on the fire escape.
And I always heard people in New York...
never get to know their neighbors.
Well, how was Sing Sing?
Fine.
I made the train and everything.
And what's the weather report?
"Small-craft warnings Block Island to Hatteras".
Whatever that means.
You know, you're sweet. You really are.
And you look a little like my brother Fred.
Do you mind if I call you Fred?
Not at all.
$300, she's very generous.
Is it by the week, the hour or what?
Okay, the party's over. Out.
Oh, Fred. Darling Fred, I'm sorry.
I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. Don't be angry.
I was just trying to let you know I understand.
I understand completely.
It's okay, stick around. Make yourself a drink.
Throw me my robe and I'll make you one.
You stay right where you are.
You must be absolutely exhausted.
I mean, it is very late...
and you were sound asleep and everything.
I suppose you think I'm very brazen or très fou or something.
I don't think you're any fouer than anybody else.
Yes, you do. Everybody does. And I don't mind.
It's useful being top banana in the shock department.
What do you do, anyway?
- I'm a writer, I guess. - You guess? Don't you know?
Okay. Positive statement. Ringing affirmative.
I'm a writer.
The only writer I've ever been out with is Benny Shacklett.
He's written an awful lot of television stuff, but quel rat.
Tell me, are you a real writer?
I mean, does anybody buy what you write or publish it or anything?
They bought what's in that box.
Yours?
All these books?
Well, there's just the one book.
Twelve copies of it.
"Nine Lives by Paul Varjak".
They're stories.
Nine of them.
Tell me one.
They're not the kind of stories you can really tell.
Too dirty?
Yeah, I suppose they're dirty, too, but only incidentally.
Mainly they're angry, sensitive, intensely felt...
and that dirtiest of all dirty words, promising.
Or so said The Times Book Review, October 1st, 1956.
- 1956? - That's right.
I suppose this is kind of a ratty question, but what have you written lately?
Lately I've been working on a novel.
- Lately, since 1956? - Well, a novel takes a long time.
- I want to get it exactly right. - So no more stories.
Well, the idea is...
I'm supposed to not fritter my talent away on little things.
I'm supposed to be saving it for the big one.
Tell me, do you write every day?
Sure.
- Today? - Sure.
- It's a beautiful typewriter. - Of course.
It writes nothing but sensitive, intensely felt, promising prose.
But there's no ribbon in it.
- There isn't? - No.
Oh.
You know, something you said this morning has been...
bothering me all day.
What's that?
Do they really give you $50 whenever you go to the powder room?
Of course.
You must do very well.
I'm trying to save, but I'm not very good at it.
You know, you do look a lot like my brother Fred.
I haven't seen him, of course, since I was 14. That's when I left home.
And he was already 6'2".
I guess it must have been the peanut butter that did it.
Everybody thought he was dotty the way he gorged himself on peanut butter.
But he wasn't dotty.
Just sweet and vague and terribly slow.
Poor Fred. He's in the army now.
It's really the best place for him until I can get enough money saved.
- And then? - And then Fred and I...
I went to Mexico once.
It's a wonderful place for raising horses.
I saw one place near the sea that...
Fred's very good with horses.
But even land in Mexico costs something.
And no matter what I do, there never seems to be more than...
a couple of hundred dollars in the bank.
It can't be 4:30.
It just can't.
Do you mind if I just get in with you for a minute?
It's all right. Really, it is.
We're friends, that's all.
We are friends, aren't we?
Sure.
Okay.
Let's don't say another word.
Let's just go to sleep.
Where are you, Fred?
Because it's cold.
There's snow and wind.
What is it? What's the matter?
Why are you crying?
If we're going to be friends, let's just get one thing straight right now.
I hate snoops.
- Yeah. - Lucille, darling? 2-E.
I've been trying desperately to reach you.
Bill just got back.
A day early, the beast.
So I'm afraid I'll have to beg off.
You'll explain to the rest of the girls?
You're a darling.
Maybe we can have a long lunch tomorrow.
I'll phone you in the morning.
Whatever you say.
And you will manage to survive without me tonight?
Sure.
I might even take a wild, boyish fling at writing.
- Good night. - Good night.
You got yourself stuffed, huh, Polly, baby?
Serves you right, big mouth.
- Buongiorno. - Huh?
Aren't you drinking?
You got pockets there or something? What do you go by?
What's your name? What's your name? What do you call yourself?
- Irving. - Perfect. Perfect.
That's wonderful, Irving.
I'll be right back, Irving, baby.
Yeah? Whoa! Kid's still in the shower. You expected?
I was invited. That what you mean?
Now don't get yourself all tense and sore, pal. Come on in.
It's a party. There's a lot of characters come around here, they're not expected.
I'll buy you a drink. You drink?
- Yeah. - Then I'll buy you a drink.
Okay.
Hey, honey, your skirt's split there.
- What do you drink, kid? - Bourbon.
Bourbon?
- On the rocks? - Yeah. No. With water.
All right, you want rocks first, though, don't you?
- Yeah. - Good, you got them.
- Not too much. - All right. That'll set you free.
- You know the kid long? - Not very. I live upstairs.
You're kidding. Boy, look at this place, will you?
What a place. It's unbelievable. What a dump.
What do you think?
- About what? - Is she or isn't she?
Wait a minute. Hold it.
- Harriet. - Hi, J.B.
"J.B."? O.J. What is that?
All right. Hello there.
- You know Gil. - Yeah. How are you? Good to see you.
- How about a drink? - Fine. In the kitchen.
- You'll find everything you need. - Thanks.
So... Oh, honey, that is you, that is you.
Fred, darling, I'm so glad you could come.
I brought you a house present, something for the bookcase.
You're sweet.
Doesn't that look nice? Give me a cigarette, O.J.
Sure, sure.
O.J.'s a great agent. He knows a terrific lot of phone numbers.
What's Jerry Wald's phone number, O. J?
Oh, come on, lay off.
Darling, I want you to call him and tell him what a genius Fred is.
Yeah, I got it.
Stop blushing, Fred. You didn't say you were genius, I did.
So quit stalling, O.J. Just tell me what you're going to do...
to make Fred rich and famous.
Now why don't you let Fred baby and me settle that matter, huh, puppy?
Okay. But just remember, I'm the agent.
He's already got a decorator, I'm the agent.
Hold it. Hold it.
Hi, there, boys. Come on in, there.
Right in the kitchen, you'll find everything you need.
So, listen, Fred baby.
- No, it's Paul baby. - Oh, it is? I thought it was Fred baby.
- No. - Well, answer the question, all right?
- Is she or isn't she? - Is she or isn't she what?
A phony.
I don't know. I don't think so.
You don't think so, huh? Well, you're wrong, she is.
But on the other hand, you're right, because she's a real phony.
You know why? Because she honestly believes all this phony junk...
that she believes in.
I mean it. Now look, I like the kid. I mean, I sincerely like the kid. I do.
I mean, I'm sensitive, that's why.
I mean, you gotta be sensitive to like the kid, you know what I mean?
It's what you call a touch, a streak of the poet...
you know what I mean?
You known her long?
Are you kidding? I'm the guy that discovered her.
I'm O.J. Berman.
A couple of years ago, back on the coast there.
She was just a kid. Of course, she had a lot of style. A lot of class.
- A lot of what? - Class. I said she had lot of class.
But of course, when she opened her mouth...
you didn't know what she was talking, whether she was a hillbilly or an Okie.
You know how long it took me to smooth out that accent?
- No. - I'll tell you how long.
One year. You know how we did it?
We gave her French lessons. Yeah.
Figured once she could imitate French...
she'd have no trouble imitating English.
And, finally, when I thought she'd be ready, I arranged for a little screen test.
Well, the night before the screen test... Well, I could've killed myself.
The night before the screen test, the phone rings.
I pick it up, I said, "O.J. Speaking". She says, "This is Holly".
I says, "Holly? Holly, you sound so far away, honey. What's with you?"
She says, "I'm in New York".
I said, "What? You got a screen test tomorrow".
She says, "I'm in New York because I've never been to New York before".
I said, "Get yourself on the plane. Get back here".
She says, "I don't wanna".
I say, "What do you mean, you don't wanna? What do you want?"
She says, "I don't wanna". I say, "What do you want?"
She says, "When I find out what I want, I'm gonna let you know". Bang.
- So, look, Fred baby, you know... - It's Paul baby.
Paul baby. Sure. I mean, don't tell me that she isn't a phony.
You know what I mean?
Irving. Honey, Irving, where have you been?
Great, thanks.
Mike, darling, I tried reaching you all day long.
Your answering service doesn't answer.
You know the trouble people have with answering services.
Well, I guess so. Careful your mother never...
She's been running around.
You look so wonderful.
I know. And after all that she said about him, and he knows that.
Holly.
- Time, darling. - What?
The time?
- Do you have a watch? - No, I don't.
- Let me see it. It's 6:45. - Thank you so much, dear.
Can I borrow it?
Really, was that necessary?
This is some party. Who are all these people, anyhow?
Who knows? The word gets out.
You don't mind, do you, darling?
Reinforcements.
- Where do I put it? - Right in there.
Holly.
Holly, darling.
- What's that? - Mag Wildwood.
She's a model, believe it or not, and a thumping bore.
But just look at the goodies she brought with her.
He's all right, I suppose, if you like dark, handsome, rich-looking men...
with passionate natures and too many teeth.
I don't mean that one. I mean the other one.
- The other one? - He's Rusty Trawler.
Rusty Trawler.
He happens to be the ninth-richest man in America under 50.
Now that indeed is a remarkable piece of information to have at your fingertips.
I keep track of these things.
- Excuse me. You owe me $47... - Hold this a minute, will you, darling?
Mag, darling, what are you doing here?
Honey, I was upstairs working with Yunioshi.
Easter stuff for the Bazaar.
Then these two nice boys came to pick me up.
It was a mistake, of course. My wires got crossed somewhere.
They were both very sweet about it.
May I present José da Silva Pereira?
He's from Brazil.
Miss Golightly.
Very kind of you, Miss Golightly, to allow me to attend your party.
I'm so interested in North American culture.
I've been already, of course, to the Statue of Liberty...
and to the restaurant Automatique.
But this is the first time I'm in a typical North American home.
Wouldn't he just melt in your mouth?
And this is Mr. Rusty Trawler.
Miss Golightly.
You're not vexed at me for bringing them?
- Of course not, darling. - I'm glad.
Now, who's going to bring me a bourbon?
- O.J. - Yeah?
- Would you get Miss Wildwood a drink? - Yeah. Which one's Miss Wildwood?
Mr. Berman, we haven't been formally introduced...
but I'm Mag Wildwood from Wildwood, Arkansas.
That's hill country.
You just make yourself right at home, senhor.
Oh, do not trouble yourself.
I'm contented to stand observing the customs of your country.
Okay, you do that.
Now, come along, Mr. Trawler.
Let's see what we can find to amuse you with.
Oh, no.
No, no, no.
I wasn't supposed to pick you up.
You said you would pick me up, and at the last minute, I had Gil come...
Look, I wasn't supposed to pick you up, here or anywhere.
- Yes? - Miss Golightly?
This time I'm warning you.
I am definitely this time going to calling the police!
Good evening.
Is it something important?
No. Just the guy upstairs.
Complaining about the noise.
He's angry.
Well, he did mention something about calling the police.
Oh, the police. The police?
Oh. That I cannot have. I'd better find Miss Wildwood and go.
To think I'd find a beau of mine...
mousing after a piece of cheap Hollywood trash.
- Mag, darling, you're being a bore. - Shut up.
You. You know what's going to happen to you?
I am going to march you over to the zoo and feed you to the yak.
Just as soon as I finish this drink.
Timber!
Sorry.
Good evening, Ed.
- It's Paul baby. - Oh, yes.
- You remember Irving, don't you? - Yeah. Hi, Irving.
- This is José. - Nice to meet you, José.
- Wonderful seeing you. - Yes.
Jewel thieves.
Sally helps me with my accounts.
I have no head for figures at all.
I'm trying desperately to save some money. You know, I told you.
I just can't seem to.
He makes me write down everything in there.
What I get, what I spend.
I used to have a checking account, but he made me get rid of that.
He feels, for me, anyway, that it's better to operate on a cash basis, tax-wise.
Some day, Mr. Fred, you take this book, turn it into a novel.
Everything is there. Just fill in a little of the details.
Certainly would be good for some laughs.
No. No, I don't think so.
This is a book would break the heart.
"Mr. Fitzsimmons, powder room, $50."
"Less $18."
"Repair one black satin dress".
"Cat food, 27 cents".
Sally, darling, please stop. You're making me blush.
But you're right about Jack Fitzsimmons, he's an absolute rat.
I guess, of course, I don't really know anybody but rats.
Except, of course, Fred here.
You do think Fred is nice, don't you, Sally?
For you, I hope he is.
Give me a kiss goodbye.
Goodbye, Uncle Sally. Till next week.
Goodbye, Uncle Sally.
Goodbye and don't forget to send that book, eh?
I won't.
What about the weather report?
Oh, yes.
Snow flurries expected this weekend in New Orleans.
Snow flurries expected this weekend in New Orleans?
Isn't that just the weirdest?
I bet they haven't had snow in New Orleans for a million years.
I don't know how he thinks them up.
Moon River
Wider than a mile
I'm crossing you in style
Some day
Oh, dream maker
You heartbreaker
Wherever you're going
I'm going your way
Two drifters
Off to see the world
There's such a lot of world
To see
We're after
The same
Rainbow's end
Waiting 'round the bend
My huckleberry friend
Moon River
And me
- Hi. - Hi.
- What you doing? - Writing.
Good.
Well, hello.
- What's wrong? - I don't know.
It's probably nothing.
I want to see if he's still there.
See if who's still there? What are you talking about?
Look.
See? I noticed him yesterday afternoon.
I didn't say anything, I didn't want to sound neurotic...
- but when he's there again today... - Who do you think he is?
It could be anybody, of course, but what crossed my mind was...
suppose Bill's having us watched, huh?
Okay, I'll take care of this.
No. No, don't. Please.
Look, if that's what it is, you'll only make everything worse.
I'll be careful. You wait here.
Darling, please don't. I don't think you should.
Now take it easy.
I just want to find out what this is all about.
All right, what do you want?
Son, I need a friend.
That's me. That's her.
That's her brother Fred.
You're Holly's father?
Her name ain't Holly.
She was Lula Mae Barnes.
Was till she married me.
I'm her husband, Doc Golightly.
Paul Varjak.
I'm a horse doctor. Animal man.
Do some farming, too, near Tulip, Texas.
Her brother Fred's getting out of the army soon.
Lula Mae belongs home with her husband...
her brother and her children.
Children?
Them's her children.
She's got four children?
Now, son, I didn't claim they was her natural-born children.
Their own precious mother, precious woman...
passed away July the 4th, Independence Day, 1955...
the year of the drought.
When I married Lula Mae, she was going on 14.
Now, you might think the average person going on 14...
wouldn't know his own mind.
But you take Lula Mae.
She was an exceptional person.
I'll tell you, son...
she just plumb broke our hearts when she run off like she done.
Just plain had no reason.
All the housework was done by her daughters.
Lula Mae could just take it easy.
I tell you, that woman got positively fat...
while her brother, he growed up into a giant.
Which is a sight different from the way they come to us.
A couple of wild young'uns, they was.
I caught them outside the house stealing milk and turkey eggs.
Lula Mae and her brother had been living...
with some mean, no-account people about 100 mile east of Tulip.
She had good cause to run off from that house.
Never had none to leave mine.
What about her brother? Didn't he leave, too?
No, sir. We had Fred with us till they took him in the army.
That's what I come to talk to her about. I had a letter from him.
He's getting out of the army in February.
That's why I got on a Greyhound bus to come to get her.
Lula Mae's place is with her husband, her children, and her brother.
Huh?
It's the prize in the Cracker Jack. You want it?
Never could understand why that woman run off.
Don't tell me she weren't happy.
Talky as a jaybird she was.
With something smart to say on every subject.
Better than the radio.
The night I proposed, I cried like a baby.
She said, "What you want to cry for, Doc? Of course we'll be married.
"I've never been married before".
Well, I had to laugh and to hug and to squeeze her.
"Never been married before".
Listen, son. I advised you I need a friend.
'Cause I don't want to surprise or scare her none.
Be my friend. Let her know I'm here.
Will you do that for me, son?
Yeah, sure, Doc. If that's what you want.
Come on.
All right.
Coming.
Oh, darling, I'm just on my way out.
I was supposed to be at 21 half an hour ago.
Maybe we can have a drink or something tomorrow, huh?
Sure, Lula Mae...
if you're still here tomorrow.
Oh, please, where is he?
Fred?
Gosh.
Lula Mae.
Gee, honey, don't they feed you up here? You're so skinny.
- Hi, Doc. - Gosh, Lula Mae.
Kingdom come.
What is it? What's the matter? Are you all right?
I guess so. No, I'm not.
- Fred, will you help me? - Lf I can.
I want you to come to the bus station with us, Doc and me.
- What? - He still thinks I'm going back with him.
I need support. I don't think I can play this scene alone.
Holly, what can I do? He's your husband.
- No, he's not. - He's not?
It was annulled ages ago, but he just won't accept it.
Please, Fred. I'll tell him you're coming to see us off.
Don't say anything.
Just meet us out front in about an hour. Please?
You wait right here, honey. I'll get the bag.
Why don't I get some magazines?
Please, Fred. Don't leave me.
Attention, please.
Leaving from platform five, through coach to Dallas...
Philadelphia, Columbus, Indianapolis, Terre Haute...
St. Louis, Tulsa, Oklahoma City, Denison, Dallas.
Come on, Lula Mae. That's us.
Doc, I'm not coming with you.
Come on. Let's walk together quietly and I'll try and help you understand.
Help me talk to him, Fred.
It's all right, son.
I appreciate you wanna help, but it's between Lula Mae and me.
Sure, Doc.
I love you, Lula Mae.
I know you do, and that's just the trouble.
It's a mistake you always made, Doc, trying to love a wild thing.
You were always lugging home wild things.
Once it was a hawk with a broken wing...
and another time it was a full-grown wildcat with a broken leg.
Remember?
Lula Mae, there's something...
You mustn't give your heart to a wild thing.
The more you do, the stronger they get.
Until they're strong enough to run into the woods or fly into a tree.
And then to a higher tree and then to the sky.
Lula Mae, there's something I got to tell you.
A couple of weeks ago, I got a letter from young Fred.
From Fred? He's all right, isn't he?
Yeah, he's fine, I guess.
He's getting out of the army in February.
- That's what he wrote to tell me. - In February?
Well, that's only four months.
So you see, you got to come back with me, Lula Mae.
Your place is with me and your children and your brother.
Doc, you've got to understand. I can't come back.
And you got to understand what I'm trying to tell you.
Now, I don't want to seem like I'm pressuring you none, but now I got to.
If you don't come back with me...
I'm gonna have to write young Fred and tell him that...
unless he wants to look out for hisself, he better sign up for another hitch.
Doc, don't you do that. Don't write that to him.
I'll write him myself and tell him I want him here with me.
I'll take care of him. Don't you worry.
You're talking crazy, Lula Mae.
Doc, stop calling me that. I'm not Lula Mae anymore.
All right, Lula Mae.
I guess you know what you're doing.
Keep an eye on her, will you, son?
At least see she eats something once in a while.
Sure, Doc.
So skinny.
Please, Doc. Please understand.
I love you, but I'm just not Lula Mae anymore.
I'm not.
You know the terrible thing, Fred, darling?
I am still Lula Mae.
Fourteen years old, stealing turkey eggs and running through a briar patch.
But now I call it having the mean reds.
Well, it's still too early to go to Tiffany's.
I guess the next best thing is a drink.
Yes, I very much need a drink.
- Will you buy me one, Fred, darling? - Sure.
Only promise me one thing. Don't take me home until I'm drunk.
Until I'm very drunk indeed.
Do you think she's talented?
- Deeply and importantly talented? - No.
Amusingly and superficially talented, yes...
but deeply and importantly, no.
Gracious.
Do you think she's handsomely paid?
Oh, indeed.
Well, let me tell you something, mister.
If I had her money, I'd be richer than she is.
- How do you figure that? - Because I'd keep the candy store.
Old Sally Tomato. That's my candy store.
I'd always keep Sally.
And that's why I'd be richer than she is.
We'd better get a little more air.
...Tom, Dick, and Harry. No. Correction.
Every Tom, Dick and Sid, Harry was his friend.
Anyway, every Tom, Dick and Sid thinks that if he takes a girl to dinner...
she'll just curl up like a kitten in a little furry ball at his feet, right?
I have by actual count been taken to dinner...
by 26 different rats in the last two months.
Twenty-seven, if you count Benny Shacklett...
who is in many ways a super-rat.
- I think I forgot my key. - Never mind. I just buzzed Yunioshi.
Do you wanna know something funny?
In spite of the fact that most of these rats fork up...
$50 for the powder room like little dolls...
I find I have again by actual count $9 less in the old bank account...
than I had six months ago.
So, my darling Fred...
I have tonight made a very serious decision.
And what is that?
No longer will I play the field.
- Congratulations. - The field stinks...
both economically and socially.
And I'm giving it up.
Miss Golightly, this time I'm not only calling the police...
but the fire department and the New York State Housing Commission...
and, if necessary, the Board of Health!
Quiet up there. You want to wake the whole house?
As Miss Golightly was saying before she was so rudely interrupted...
Miss Golightly further announces her intention...
to devote her many considerable talents...
to the immediate capture, for the purpose of matrimony...
of Mr. Rutherford.
Rusty to his friends, of whom I'm sure he has many.
- Trawler. - Who?
Rusty Trawler. You met him at my party a couple of weeks ago.
He came with Mag Wildwood.
Not the beautiful Latin type.
The other one, the one that looks like a pig.
Remember?
The ninth-richest man in America under 50?
Do I detect a look of disapproval in your eye?
Tough beans, buddy, 'cause that's the way it's gonna be.
Hi, cat.
Holly, you're drunk.
True.
- Absolutely true. True, but irrelevant. - What are you doing?
So I think we should have a drink...
to the new Mrs. Rusty Trawler.
- Me. - Hey, take it easy.
What's the matter, don't you think I can do it?
Tell me. Seriously, I'm interested. Don't you think I can?
You heard the Doc.
My brother gets out of the army in February...
and the Doc won't take him back. So it's all up to me.
I don't know why you don't understand.
I need money, and I'll do whatever I have to do to get it.
So...
this time next month, I'll be the new Mrs. Rusty Trawler.
And I think we should have a little drink to that.
It's all gone. Isn't that too bad?
Got any whiskey upstairs?
- But you've had enough. - Go ahead. Get the whiskey.
I'll pay you for it.
- Holly, please. - No, no, you disapprove of me...
and I do not accept drinks from gentlemen who disapprove of me.
I'll pay for my own whiskey and don't you forget it.
Holly.
I do not accept drinks from disapproving gentlemen.
Especially not disapproving gentlemen who are kept by other ladies.
So take it.
You should be used to taking money from ladies by now.
If I were you, I'd be more careful with my money.
Rusty Trawler is too hard a way of earning it.
It should take you exactly four seconds to cross from here to that door.
I'll give you two.
Hi.
I've come up to talk to you about the other night...
then I saw the paper, and...
Well, actually, I'm kind of embarrassed about it...
but since it concerns you, I thought I ought to talk to you about it in person.
What?
The earplugs.
I can't go through the whole thing again.
It's sufficient to say, I've come to make up.
And as an added inducement, I have all kinds of news.
Can I come in?
I guess so. Just a minute. Do I have a nightgown on?
No, I don't. Would you mind turning around for a second?
Oh, never mind. It's such a corny line anyway.
I'll turn around myself.
Come in.
Have you seen the paper?
Rusty, you mean?
Yes. I know all about it.
Certainly had him pegged wrong, didn't I?
I thought he was just a rat, but he was a super-rat all along.
A super-rat in rat's clothing.
You don't even know the best part.
Not only was he a rat, or a super-rat, rather...
he was also broke.
Broke. I mean, but not a farthing.
His family has money, of course, but he personally is broke.
It turns out he owes $700,000.
Can you imagine anyone owing $700,000?
$43, yes.
Anyway, that's why he decided to marry the queen of the pig people.
I'll tell you one thing, Fred, darling...
I'd marry you for your money in a minute.
- Would you marry me for my money? - In a minute.
So I guess it's pretty lucky neither of us is rich, huh?
Yeah.
Fred, darling, I'm so glad to see you.
What have you been doing?
Writing, mostly.
Sold a story. Just got word this morning.
Oh, that's marvelous. It really is.
But...
Only how does your decorator friend feel about it?
I thought you were supposed to be saving yourself and all of that?
You know something?
I haven't got around to telling her about it yet.
Look, why don't we go out and have a drink...
or take a walk or something to celebrate?
All right.
I think there's some champagne in the icebox.
Why don't you open it while I get dressed?
Okay.
I don't think I've ever drunk champagne before breakfast before.
With breakfast on several occasions.
But never before, before.
Now I've got a wonderful idea.
We can spend a whole day doing things we've never done before.
We'll take turns. First something you've never done, then me.
Of course, I can't really think of anything I've never done.
I've never been for a walk in the morning before.
At least not since I've been in New York.
I've walked up Fifth Avenue at 6:00...
but as far as I'm concerned, that's still night.
- Do you think it counts? - Sure it counts. Now we're even.
- Don't you just love it? - Love what?
Tiffany's.
Isn't it wonderful?
You see what I mean how nothing bad could ever happen to you...
in a place like this?
It isn't that I give a hoot about jewelry, except diamonds, of course.
Like that.
What do you think?
Well...
Of course, personally, I think it would be tacky to wear diamonds before I'm 40.
Well, you're right. But in the meantime, you should have something.
I'll wait.
No. I'm gonna buy you a present.
You bought me one, a typewriter ribbon, and it brought me luck.
All right, but Tiffany's can be pretty expensive.
I've got my check and $10.
Oh, I wouldn't let you cash your check.
But a present for $10 or under, that I'll accept.
Of course, I don't exactly know what we're going to find at Tiffany's for $10.
May I help you?
Perhaps. Actually, we were looking for a present for the lady.
Certainly, sir.
Is there something special you had in mind?
Well, we had considered diamonds.
Now, I don't want to offend you...
but the lady feels that diamonds are tacky for her.
Oh, I think they're divine on older women...
but I don't think they'd be right for me. You do understand?
Certainly.
In all fairness, I think I ought to explain. There's also a secondary problem.
One of finance.
We can only afford to spend a limited amount.
- May I ask how limited? - $10.
$10?
That was the outside figure, yes.
I see.
Do you have anything for $10?
Well, frankly, madam, within that price range...
the variety of merchandise is rather limited.
However, I do think we might have, let me see...
Strictly as a novelty, you understand.
For the lady and gentleman who has everything...
a sterling silver telephone dialer...
at $6.75, including tax.
A sterling silver telephone dialer.
Yes, sir. At $6.75, including federal tax.
Well, the price is right, but I must say...
I'd rather hoped for something slightly more, how shall I say it...
romantic in feeling.
What do you think?
As sterling silver telephone dialers go...
I certainly think it's handsome, but, well, you do understand?
Well, we tried, but I guess...
We could have something engraved, couldn't we?
Yes, I suppose so.
Yes, indeed.
The only problem is, you would more or less have to buy something first...
if only in order to have some object upon which to place the engraving.
You see the difficulty.
Well...
We could have this engraved, couldn't we?
I think it would be very smart.
This, I take it, was not purchased at Tiffany's?
No.
Actually, it was purchased concurrent with...
Well, actually, it came inside of...
well, a box of Cracker Jack.
I see.
Do they still really have prizes in Cracker Jack boxes?
- Oh, yes. - That's nice to know.
It gives one a feeling of solidarity...
almost of continuity with the past, that sort of thing.
Do you think Tiffany's would really engrave it for us?
I mean, you don't think they would feel it was beneath them...
or anything like that?
Well, it is rather unusual, madam.
But I think you'll find that Tiffany's is very understanding.
If you would tell me what initials you would like...
I think we could have something ready for you in the morning.
Didn't I tell you this was a lovely place?
What is this place, anyway?
You said you wanted to sit down. It's the public library.
- You've never been here? - No. That makes two for me.
- I don't see any books. - They're in there.
See?
Each one of these little drawers is stuffed with little cards.
And each little card is a book or an author.
I think that's fascinating.
V-A-R-J-A-K.
Really?
Look. Isn't it marvelous?
There you are, right in the public library.
"Varjak, Paul. Nine Lives".
And then a lot of numbers.
Do you think they really have the book itself, live?
Sure. Follow me.
Number 57. That's us.
Fifty-seven, please. Nine Lives by Varjak, Paul.
Did you ever read it? It's absolutely marvelous.
- No, I'm afraid I haven't. - Well, you should. He wrote it.
He's Varjak, Paul, in person.
She doesn't believe me.
Show her your driver's license or Diner's Club card or something.
Honest, he really is the author. Cross my heart and kiss my elbow.
Would you kindly lower your voice, miss?
Why don't you autograph it to them?
Don't you think it'd be nice? Sort of make it more personal?
Really, miss...
Go ahead. Don't be so stuck up, autograph it to them.
All right, what shall I say?
Something sentimental, I think.
What are you doing? Stop that!
- You're defacing public property. - Well, all right, if that's the way you feel.
Come on, Fred, darling. Let's get out of here.
I don't think this place is half as nice as Tiffany's.
Hey, did you ever steal anything from a five-and-ten...
when you were a kid, I mean?
No. I'm the sensitive, bookish type. Did you?
I used to. I still do every now and then, sort of to keep my hand in.
Come on. Don't be chicken.
Anyway, you've never done it, and it's your turn.
I can't see.
Hi, cat.
Lady of the house at home?
Holly?
Trick or treat.
You're crazy. You know that, don't you? But I love you anyway.
- 2-E. - Yeah?
I've got to talk to you.
All right.
You want a drink?
If this is going to be a serious discussion...
and suddenly I'm terribly afraid it is...
you're going to have to take off that ridiculous mask...
or else I'm going to have to wear one, too.
2-E, look, please.
What's the matter? Girl trouble?
Is that it, darling?
Oh, I see.
Well, that's not so serious.
As a matter of fact, I've been expecting it.
I can't say I like it, but I've been expecting it.
- Who is she? - Hasn't got anything to do with her.
This is between you and me.
Then it is serious.
Well, now.
2-E, you're a very stylish girl.
Can't we end this stylishly?
- End it? - Yes.
Well...
I do believe love has found Andy Hardy.
Let's see...
a waitress?
A salesgirl?
No. She'd have to be someone rich, wouldn't she, Paul?
Someone who could help you.
Curiously enough...
she's a girl who can't help anyone, not even herself.
Thing is, I can help her, and it's a nice feeling for a change.
All right.
I understand.
I'll tell you what, Paul.
I am a very stylish girl.
- What are you doing? - Writing a check.
Don't look so bewildered.
Surely you've noticed me writing checks before.
"Pay to the order of Paul Varjak, $1,000."
Take her away somewhere for a week.
You're entitled to a vacation with pay.
Simply a matter of fair labor practice, darling.
Of course, if you were really smart...
you'd get some of the other boys together and organize a union.
That way you'd get all the fringe benefits...
hospitalization, a pension plan...
and unemployment insurance when you're...
how shall I put it, between engagements?
Thanks for making it easier for me.
Don't be ridiculous, darling.
Take the check.
And call your girl.
No, thanks.
I've got a check of my own.
When you get yourself a new writer to help...
try and find one my size.
That way you won't have to even shorten the sleeves.
Holly!
Hey.
- What are you doing? - Excuse me.
I'm sorry.
You look just like a girl I know named Holly.
Really?
I'm sorry.
Hi.
What do you want?
I want to talk to you.
I'm busy.
- What are you doing? - Reading.
"South America: Land of Wealth and Promise"?
It's very interesting.
Let's get out of here.
I said let's get out of here. I want to talk to you.
What's the matter with you, anyway? What's happened?
Fred, will you please just leave me alone?
Holly...
I love you.
- Where are you going? - To the ladies' room.
- What's the matter with you, anyway? - Let me go.
- No. - Fred, please let me go.
Let's get something straight.
I am not now, nor have I ever been, Fred.
Nor am I Benny Shacklett, whoever he may be.
My name is Paul, Paul Varjak, and I love you.
- Let me go. - Not till we get this settled.
Now what's all this jazz about South America?
I thought if I'm going to marry a South American...
I'd better find out something about the country.
- Marry? What South American? - José.
- Who the hell is José? - José da Silva Pereira.
Who the hell's José da Silva Pereira?
Darling, you met him. I know you did. Mag Wildwood's friend.
The tall, good-looking one who came to the party with Rusty?
Well, my dear, you won't believe this...
but it turns out not only is he handsome and wildly rich...
he's absolutely cuckoo for me.
- You're crazy. - What? Do you think you own me?
That's exactly what I think.
I know, I know. That's what everybody always thinks...
but everybody happens to be wrong.
Look, I am not everybody.
Or am I?
Is that what you really think?
That I'm no different from all your other rats and super-rats?
Wait a minute.
If that's it...
if that's what you really think...
there's something I want to give you.
What's that?
$50 for the powder room.
I wouldn't ask you in, except the place is in such a mess...
- I couldn't bear to face it alone. - You have a message.
No.
Olé.
Good evening, Mr. Yunioshi.
Good evening, Paul.
Good evening.
Please, you must help me.
Holly.
Holly. Holly.
Holly.
- Holly. Holly. - Let me go. No!
Holly.
- Holly. - Fred. Fred.
Holly.
No, no.
Fred.
- What did you do to her? - Nothing.
There was a telegram, and then this.
Crashing everything, conducting like a crazy. It's appalling.
I can't have a public scandal. It's too delicate.
My name, my position, my family.
Will there be the police again, do you think?
I don't see why. There's no law against busting up your own apartment.
- Where is the telegram? - There it is.
"Received notice. Young Fred killed...
"in jeep accident, Fort Riley, Kansas.
"Your husband and children join in the sorrow of our mutual loss.
"Letter following. Love, Doc".
Her brother Fred.
This brother, was she very close to him?
Yeah.
What can one do?
Try to help her.
I tried. It didn't do much good.
You got a ranch or something down in Brazil, don't you?
Yes.
That's good. She'll like that.
Well, you better get in there.
- Hi. - Hello.
Got your wire. How did you know where to reach me?
Oh, I tried everything. Called people, asked around...
and suddenly thought of looking in the phone book.
Anyway, I'm glad you could come.
- You look fine. - You think so?
I'm fat as a pig, and I haven't had my hair done in months.
But I'm happy, really happy. It probably shows.
You look très distingué yourself.
I got a job. I've been writing a little.
I know. I've read three of your stories.
Two in The New Yorker and one in that funny little magazine.
Won't you sit down?
Thank you.
- I've taken up knitting. - So I see.
It'll probably look very nice once it's finished.
Actually, I'm a little nervous about it.
José brought up the blueprints for a new ranch house he's building...
and I have this strange feeling...
that maybe the blueprints and my knitting instructions got switched.
I mean, it isn't impossible that I'm knitting a ranch house.
Really, darling, I can't tell you how divinely happy I am.
What is that, anyhow?
Portuguese. A very complicated language.
Four thousand irregular verbs.
Very impressive. What's it mean?
"I believe you are in league with the butcher".
Holly, what's this about?
Why did you want to see me?
José's in Washington for the night...
so I thought if I asked you over, you might come.
And, well, I've said goodbye to everyone else I care about.
You're going somewhere?
I'm going to Rio tomorrow.
I've got the plane ticket, and I've even said goodbye to old Sally.
José is flying down with you?
We're going on separate planes, of course.
He doesn't think it would look right for us to be traveling together.
His family's very important down there...
so he has to worry about things like that.
Anyway, I thought I'd show off and cook dinner for us.
It'll be fun eating in.
Did I tell you how divinely and utterly happy I am?
Yes.
You are getting married, then?
Well, he hasn't really asked me, not in so many words.
Four, you mean?
Well, that's how many words it takes.
"Will you marry me?"
Oh, we'll get married, all right. I know we will.
And in church and with his family there and everything.
And that's why he's waiting till we get to Rio, probably.
Do you think it's trying to tell us something?
I hope you like chicken and saffron rice served with chocolate sauce.
It's an East Indian classic, my dear.
Three months ago, I couldn't scramble eggs.
Are you all right?
Golly, darling. I did so want to impress you.
Look...
I'm not much for chicken with sauce, anyway.
Why don't we go out somewhere? Let me buy you a farewell dinner.
That would be fun, as long as it's someplace I can go like this.
Years from now...
years and years, I'll be back.
Me and my nine Brazilian brats.
They'll be dark like José, of course...
but they'll have bright, green, beautiful eyes.
I'll bring them back, all right, 'cause they must see this.
Oh, I love New York.
Then why are you leaving? What's in it for you, anyway?
Look, I know what you're thinking, and I don't blame you.
I've always thrown out such a jazzy line.
Really, except for Doc and yourself, José's my first non-rat romance.
Not that he's my idea of the absolute finito.
He's too prim and cautious to be my absolute ideal.
Now if I could choose from anybody alive, I wouldn't pick José.
Nehru, maybe, or Albert Schweitzer.
Or Leonard Bernstein.
But I am mad about José.
I honestly think I'd give up smoking if he asked me.
Come on, darling, let's eat. It's getting late.
I'm leaving tomorrow, and I haven't even begun to pack.
Didn't want José to think I was the kind of girl who loses her key...
so I had 26 of them made.
No, wait. I got a better idea.
Kind of a farewell gesture.
Somebody must have tripped the lock.
Crafty devil, that Yunioshi.
Wake up, wake up! The British are coming!
- Or, in this case, the Brazilians. - Exactly.
- I've still got to clean up all that rice.
Hey, you know...
Hey!
There she are who did it! The wanted woman! There!
Groenburger. Narcotics squad.
- What do you mean? - What's going on?
- Why don't you ask your boss? - What boss?
Sally Tomato. Why don't you ask him? Come on.
Look around for narcotic. They got plenty narcotic in there.
- What's your name? - Varjak.
Hold it down over there!
Paul Varjak. V-A-R-J-A-K.
- Hey - Oh, get lost, will you?
Get out!
I'm a writer.
W-R-I-T-E-R.
- Please. One, one, please. - One at a time. Please, one.
Good.
- Wait a minute. Wait a minute. - I can't answer all your questions.
- Just one at a time. - Knock it off!
Now, darling, why don't you start?
Is it true you carried messages from Tomato in code?
Of course not.
I'd just meet Mr. O'Shaughnessy at Hamburger Heaven...
and give him the weather report.
Simply do not ask me what this is all about.
But you did used to visit Tomato?
I used to see him every week. What's wrong with that?
Well, you must've known Tomato was part of the narcotics syndicate.
Mr. Tomato never mentioned narcotics to me.
It makes me furious the way all these wretched people keep persecuting him.
He's a deeply sensitive person.
- A darling old man. - Then you're innocent.
- Of course I'm innocent. - What are you going to do about it?
- What do you mean? - Well, who's your lawyer?
I don't know.
Mr. O'Shaughnessy, I guess.
Mr. O'Shaughnessy!
Hey! Get out of here!
- All right, come on. - Okay, move.
- Come on, then. - Mr. O'Shaughnessy?
- Shut up! - Get in there.
- Yeah. - Mr. Paul Varjak?
- Yeah. - Ready with Mr. Berman in Hollywood.
Kindly deposit $3 for the first 3 minutes, please.
Hello?
O.J. Berman here. Who's calling?
- Mr. Berman, this is Paul Varjak. - Nice to talk to you, kid.
Varjak. V-A-R-J-A-K.
I'm a friend of Holly's. I met you at a party in New York.
- Who? - Paul. Paul Varjak.
V-A-R...
Mr. Berman, this is Fred.
Oh, Fred baby, huh?
So you're calling about the kid, huh?
Everything's under control. Just relax.
I spoke to my lawyer in New York.
I told him to take care of everything, send me the bill...
but to keep my name anonymous.
- What? - Unknown. I don't want any part of it.
- You hear me? - You sound like you're in a tunnel.
It's this executive phone I have.
- What? - Executive phone!
Fred baby, they only got her on $10,000 bail.
My lawyer can get her out at 10:00 this morning. I tell you what you do.
You bust into that dump she lives in...
collect all her junk.
Go down to the jail. Get her out.
Take her straight over to a hotel under a phony name, right?
You wanna keep away from the reporters as much as possible.
Do you know what I mean? Will you do that?
Sure, Mr. Berman.
- I can't tell you how much I appreciate... - Forget it.
I owe her something.
Not that I owe her anything, I mean, if you really get right down to it...
but she's a crazy.
She's a phony.
But she's a real phony.
- Know what I mean, kid? - Yeah, I know what you mean.
- Thanks, Mr. Berman. Thanks a lot. - Right!
Why don't you behave?
Quel night.
I did a little housebreaking while you were away.
Clayton Hotel, driver. 84th and Madison.
O.J. Thinks it'd be a good idea if you stayed out of sight for a while.
I got most of your stuff here, including cat. Hope he's all right.
Yeah.
Hello, cat.
Poor no-name slob.
Listen, darling. Did you find that plane ticket?
- Right here. We can cash it in. - Cash it in? Are you kidding?
What time is it?
- A little after 10:00. - Good.
Idlewild Airport, please, driver.
- Never mind. You can't do that. - Why not?
You don't understand. You're under indictment.
If they catch you jumping bail, they'll lock you up and throw away the key.
Don't be ridiculous, darling.
By the day after tomorrow...
I'll be married to the future president of Brazil.
And that'll give me diplomatic immunity or something.
I wouldn't bet on it.
What is it, darling?
Message for you.
Oh, yes, I see.
Did he bring it in person, or was it...
just there, shoved under the door?
A cousin.
Hand me my purse, will you, darling?
A girl can't read that sort of thing without her lipstick.
You read it to me, will you, darling?
I don't think I can quite bear...
Sure you want me to?
Okay.
"My dearest little girl...
"I have loved you knowing you were not as others.
"But conceive of my despair...
"upon discovering in such a brutal and public style...
"how very different you are from the manner of woman...
"a man of my position could hope to make his wife.
"I grieve for the disgrace of your present circumstances.
"And I do not find it in my heart...
"to add my condemn...
"to the condemn that surrounds you.
"So I hope you will find it in your heart not to condemn me.
"I have my family to protect and my name...
"and I am a coward where these institutions enter.
"Forget me, beautiful child. And may God be with you.
"José".
Well?
Well, at least he's honest.
- It's kind of touching. - Touching?
That square-ball jazz.
He says he's a coward.
All right. So he's not a regular rat or even a super-rat.
He's just a scared little mouse, that's all.
But, oh, golly.
Gee, damn.
Well, so much for South America.
I didn't really think you were cut out to be queen of the Pampas, anyway.
- Clayton Hotel. - Idlewild.
What?
The plane leaves at 12:00. And on it I plan to be.
Holly, you can't.
I'm not hotfooting it after José, if that's what you think. Oh, no.
As far as I'm concerned, he's the future president of nowhere.
Only why should I waste a perfectly good plane ticket?
Besides, I've never been to Brazil.
Please, darling, don't sit there looking at me like that.
I'm going and that's all there is to it.
Now all they want from me...
are my services as the state's witness against Sally.
Nobody has any intention of prosecuting me.
To begin with, they don't have a ghost of a chance.
Even so, this town's finished for me.
At least for a while.
There are certain shades of limelight that can wreck a girl's complexion.
They'll have the rope up at every saloon in town.
I'll tell you what you do for me, darling.
When you get back to town...
I want you to call up the New York Times or whoever you call.
I want you to mail me a list of the 50 richest men in Brazil.
The 50 richest.
- Holly, I'm not going to let you do this. - You're not going to let me?
Holly, I'm in love with you.
- So what? - So what?
So plenty.
- I love you. You belong to me. - No.
- People don't belong to people. - Of course they do.
I'm not gonna let anyone put me in a cage.
I don't want to put you in a cage. I want to love you.
- It's the same thing. - No, it's not.
- Holly... - I'm not Holly.
I'm not Lula Mae, either. I don't know who I am.
I'm like cat, here.
We're a couple of no-name slobs. We belong to nobody.
And nobody belongs to us. We don't even belong to each other.
Stop the cab.
What do you think?
This ought to be the right kind of place for a tough guy like you.
Garbage cans, rats galore.
Scram!
I said take off! Beat it!
Let's go.
Driver...
pull over here.
You know what's wrong with you, Miss Whoever-you-are?
You're chicken. You've got no guts.
You're afraid to stick out your chin and say, "Okay, life's a fact".
People do fall in love.
People do belong to each other...
because that's the only chance anybody's got for real happiness.
You call yourself a free spirit, a wild thing.
And you're terrified somebody's going to stick you in a cage.
Well, baby, you're already in that cage. You built it yourself.
And it's not bounded in the west by Tulip, Texas...
or in the east by Somaliland.
It's wherever you go.
Because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself.
Here. I've been carrying this thing around for months.
I don't want it anymore.
Here, cat!
Cat!
Where's the cat?
I don't know.
Cat!
Cat.