Four Star Playhouse (1952) s01e17 Episode Script
Ladies on his mind
[THEME MUSIC.]
ANNOUNCER: Singer! Outstanding leader in the manufacture of sewing machines for both industry and the home.
Always look for the famous Singer and Red S trademarks.
Tonight on Four Star Playhouse, Singer presents Ronald Colman in "Ladies on his Mind.
" MATTHEW: Goodbye, love.
I'm leaving now.
-Wait a minute, Matthew.
Come here a moment.
I want to show you something.
-My first appointment's at 10:00, so that gives me a comfortable margin.
Thus fortified, I am prepared to slay dragons.
-Well, before you do, Sir Galahad, I need some help.
Pick one of those out for me, will you? -Well, if you give be another cup of coffee, I will.
-Coming up.
Still hot, I think.
Now.
Which one do you like? -Well, I should say the rose satin stripe suits your coloring best.
-Oh but it isn't for me.
It's for your couch at the office.
-My couch.
Why? -Well, it's been on my mind for some time.
It needs something.
-Well, thank you, Deborah.
I don't think that needs reupholstering.
-You must admit it's very dreary.
-Well I should say it's neutral.
Should be.
After all, a psychiatrist is supposed to be an interior analyst, not decorator.
-Well, I don't see what harm a cheerful covering would do.
Now something like this might brighten the gloomy subconscious of some of your victims.
-Well I'm afraid it might distract them, more likely.
-Well, I wasn't only thinking of your patients, darling, I was thinking of you.
You have to sit there all day, staring at that couch, while they babble on.
-Better babbling than bedlam, my dear.
-Bedlam indeed.
I don't know how you managed to keep yourself together getting involved in so many other people's lives.
You have to play more roles than an actor.
-Only one role, darling.
And unfortunately a dispassionate one.
No, I'm simply a listening post, trying to detect the peccadilloes and the [INAUDIBLE.]
patterns of human misbehavior.
-I'll sure you peck a pretty dillo.
Still, sounds like a risky business to me.
Whenever I listen to somebody else's troubles, I find myself right smackin the middle of them in no time at all.
-Oh, naturally, Debbie, because you listen as a warm-hearted and sympathetic friend.
But I in my professional capacity must remain completely detached.
The unobtrusive bystander, who looks and listens, and tries to understand but who must always remain completely apart.
-I know, Matthew.
And you're a magnificent doctor.
Still, I'm glad I've never seen you completely detached.
If I ever did, the shock would probably turn me into one of your patients.
And I'd be the most awful bore.
-An idle speculation, my love, because detachment, where you're concerned, is beyond the realm of possibility.
-Go detach yourself, Matthew, you're late.
-Yes.
Many happy analyses of the day, Doc.
I'll see you at dinnertime.
-Bye! -Bye! -I'm sorry, but Dr.
Bosanquet cannot talk to you now.
He's with a patient.
Yes.
I'll tell him you called.
Thank you.
Goodbye.
-The leaves were all shades of red and brown.
Strange it was autumn.
It should have been spring, you know.
I was so very young, and all my thoughts were spring thoughts.
I had every reason to believe I was in love.
You see, Doctor, even the words I use-- thoughts, reason, believe.
Always my head! -A Frenchman once said, the heart is a faculty of which we deprive ourselves daily for want of exercise, whereas the mind becomes keener day by day.
-The heart's there, alright.
But if only it would give one big throb, or even miss a beat occasionally, then I think I could be really happy.
-Well let us be thankful you have a sound heart.
Less business for my cardiac friends.
-Yes.
Let it be said that she has a heart of oak, a tree that bears no fruit.
A round of applause for a good study ticker.
Charlotte Kirby's abandoned passion, the fretful frenzy of her embrace-- ah.
She who wears her heart upon her sleeve for critics to peck at.
-Even the most peckish critic cannot deny your sincerity as an actress, Miss Kirby.
I had the pleasure of seeing you in both Cleopatras, and I must say, as a layman, your performance seemed emotionally true and unexaggerated.
-You're very sweet, Doctor.
It's one thing to give a convincing impression of passion.
Quite another to experience it yourself.
I would gladly trade all professional reward if for one moment, I could be an amateur in love.
You understand what I mean? I believe I can talk freely to you, Doctor.
And believe me, that's something new and rare.
Perhaps it's because you're so detached.
-Simply a listening post.
MISS KIRBY: And I'm not required to give a performance to prove that I'm a woman, not just a still life.
-Now, won't you please lie back and relax, Miss Kirby.
Some other time, we can discuss histrionics, perhaps.
But for now, let us return to-- where were we? The leaves.
Autumn.
-Yes.
Autumn.
Autumn and Edgar.
Poor Edgar.
He gathered the leaves in his hands and threw them out over the wall, down the cliff.
We watched them flutter down.
Down.
Dead leaves.
I must have shuddered, for he clasped my hand.
His was warm, but mine was as cold and lifeless as the leaves.
MATTHEW (VOICEOVER): I am simply a listening post.
I must remain completely detached.
MISS KIRBY: And when he put his arm about me and kissed me, I screamed.
Not from horror or fear or any kind of feeling-- it was like the cry of a stone.
Poor Edgar.
How could I expect him to understand? I could've died from shame if he had known the truth about me-- that I was dead inside, a white glacier clouded in a mist of tears.
MATTHEW (VOICEOVER): But if I had been Edgar.
MISS KIRBY: How could he know that I was inaccessible? There was no key to unlock the door.
Really, no door at all.
Just a wall of ice.
I'm not much of a memory, I guess-- that is, for myself.
Just an anthology of roles, a filing case of ingenues and leading ladies.
When I'm offstage, I feel like an impostor pretending I'm alive.
The truth is, there's not much point in probing an iceberg.
The 9/10 under the water is just the same, only colder.
-The ultimate destiny of the coldest iceberg is to melt in warmer waters.
Tired? -Weary, perhaps, but not tried.
I'm not much good at this sort of thing, I'm afraid.
Too self-conscious to be of much help.
Right? -On the contrary, Miss Kirby, this has been a most satisfying session.
Let me put it this way.
You are a fastidious and discriminating person.
And since apparently you have not yet encountered someone who fulfills your expectations, you have-- however unwittingly and modestly-- but the blame on yourself.
-Blame? -You've conveniently created a fictional image to hide your own true self.
That self, I'm sure, is so full of warmth and vitality that you've tried every art to conceal it, for fear you might be trapped by your own natural, affectionate impulses.
-Go on, Doctor.
-I'd like to substitute for your-- a deprecating description of yourself as an iceberg-- shall we say, a potential bonfire? Which needs only the right spark to burst into flame.
-Really, Doctor, I think you know more about me than I know myself.
- I feel much better.
Should I-- -Prognosis favorable.
-Thursday, 11:00? -If you like.
But I don't think you'll be a patient much longer, Miss Kirby.
-I hope you're right, Doctor.
Goodbye.
-Mrs.
Shaw is waiting, Doctor.
-Shaw? -You interviewed her last week.
Remember, Mrs.
Mysterious Migraines -Migraines, oh yes.
Yes.
Thank you, Miss Kimble.
SHow her in, will you? -I must say, Doctor, Miss Kirby looked as pleased as punch.
-She did? Well, it's quite possible she's going to find a new role for herself.
I'd like to send her flowers for her opening night.
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-Doesn't seem to make any sense, Doctor.
One minute I'll be feeling perfectly fine.
Then the next, for no reason at all-- why, it's like somebody hitting me very hard with the flat of his hand, right on my forehead, right here.
I don't feel it on the outside at all.
It's all deep inside, right above the eyes, and I can't hold up my head anymore.
-Do you have such a headache now, Mrs.
Shaw? Do you have a headache now, Mrs.
Shaw.
-No.
Should I? -No, it was just a question, not a request.
Go on, please.
And I think it may help if you forget your symptoms for a while, and just tell me a little bit more about yourself.
-I'm not very interesting, Doctor.
I mean, that is, nothing much happens to me.
I live a very simple life, really.
Tom likes it that way, too.
Well there's no reason to bring Tom into this.
He's been very patient and very devoted, and we've been very happy ever since we've gotten married.
That's what makes it so difficult about Leonard, you see.
-Leonard is a friend, I take it? -Of course, Doctor! What did you think? I mean if he weren't a friend, there wouldn't be any problem, would it? Well it's hardest of all on Leonard.
I mean that, Doctor.
Now I'm not trying to deny that it's not very confusing for me.
I'm just grateful that Tom doesn't seem to be aware of what's happening-- I mean, what would happen if I let it.
That is, how Leonard feels.
After all, he's so sincere.
I can't be mean, can I? Well it's not his fault.
Well it's not anybody's fault.
Well it's life, isn't it? -If you mean that many things occur in one's life for which one doesn't seem responsible.
That is, model responsibility in personal relationships can often be difficult to determine.
-Oh I'm not blaming Leonard, even if he is Tom's best friend.
I mean, if he weren't, he wouldn't have met me, and none of this would have happened.
I mean, nothing really has happened.
Except for the way he feels.
You can't be angry with a man for being deeply in love with you, can you? -Mrs.
Shaw, I'd suggest that you don't make any judgments yet.
I'd prefer it if you'd lie back and relax, and just talk.
-What do you want me to talk about? -Oh, whatever you'd like.
Anything.
Everything.
Just let yourself go.
Only don't apologize or explain.
-You know it's very comfortable here.
I hope I don't fall asleep.
-I wouldn't worry about that.
-You know it's funny what floats through your head when you're not thinking.
You see things.
Our breakfast room, for instance.
And the coffee in Tom's cup that's stone-cold because he didn't have a chance to finish it.
He'd miss his train.
There's something about cold coffee that makes me shiver Tom always has to run to make it at the last minute.
You know, I don't think he would have been on time for our wedding, if Leonard hadn't taken over.
One thing is sure.
Leonard is always punctual.
And practical.
And discreet.
MATTHEW (VOICEOVER): I am just an unobtrusive bystander.
I must remain discreetly apart.
MRS SHAW: But you know as well as I know Leonard, I'm never quite sure what he's thinking.
He's able to conceal his thoughts.
Very lucky for everybody concerned.
MATTHEW (VOICEOVER):Now if I were Leonard-- MRS SHAW: Leonard has such magnificent control of himself.
He seems just about to tell me exactly how he feels, but he has such great respect for me.
And because I try to be as gentle and considerate as I can -- friendly, you know, but at arm's length-- but at arm's length-- but at arm's length-- but at arm's length-- Of course, Leonard would never make any advances, because obviously, I wouldn't tolerate them.
It must be terrible, though, to suffer love unrequited.
But I suppose Leonard finds some little happiness in just being with me.
It's sad, though.
It's funny.
I feel much better already.
You are quite wonderful, Doctor.
A little frightening, though.
I feel as though you can see right through me.
-Well it's interesting you should say that, Mrs.
Shaw.
Because if that is true, then I think you'll be through with me.
-Mrs.
Shaw's file, Doctor.
-I won't need it, Miss Kimball.
Mark the case closed.
-That was a quick cure.
-No cure.
No case.
Since she seemed so disappointed, I prescribed a light diet.
Less spice and sauce in her imagination.
But to make her completely happy, I also suggested medication.
Sodium acytel salicylate.
She was delighted.
-I don't think that girl will take aspirin for an answer.
By the way, Mrs.
Jetson cancelled again.
Your next appointment isn't until 4:00.
A new patient, Mrs.
Miriam Newsome.
So you have a couple of hours to yourself, Doctor.
-I think it all began with Clara's pink ribbons.
Couldn't have been more than six, six and 1/2.
Yes, it was a year after we left Boston.
Clara was crying.
Embarrassing.
Sister two years older crying.
Clara with her braids and pink ribbons.
How I hated those pink ribbons.
I know she only wore them because-- oh, no, no, no! Pink ribbons! Not yet, old boy.
Not yet.
-Mrs.
Newsome, Dr.
Bosanquet.
-Good afternoon, Mrs.
Newsome.
-How do you do? -Won't you be seated? -You can't do anything for me.
-Splendid.
In that case, it's been a pleasure meeting you.
-Everybody speaks very highly of you.
Of course, it's the fashionable thing to do.
Only I think anybody who follows fashions is a jellyfish.
-And jellyfish never swim against the current, do they? -Exactly.
Ashtray, please.
-That's a very fashionable suit you're wearing, Mrs.
Newsome.
-Well, that kind of fashion.
Now, Doctor, don't tell me that's some kind of awful fetish or something.
-No.
I like it.
-I can see what they mean already.
The charming approach.
Frankly, Doctor, I'm only here out of curiosity.
-Then I trust you won't mind my own.
-Not at all.
I expect you to ask questions.
But I would like to make myself quite clear at the start.
I've always thought that coming to someone such as yourself-- and I don't mean this as a personal affront-- but the idea is rather revolting and ridiculous.
It's true that I've been on edge the past year or so, but the reason is no secret.
I try very hard to be patient understanding, but the fact is my husband has become intolerable.
Well, that's it.
That's all.
Isn't it ethical to talk this way, or am I only supposed to talk about myself? -I'm a doctor, not a judge, Mrs.
Newsome.
-Yes, of course, but you must have opinions.
Men always do.
I've never met an objective man in my life.
-Attractive women seldom do.
-Careful, doctor.
I'll begin enjoying this.
You'd better start asking your questions.
Let's see if we're going to get anywhere with this silly business.
And for heaven's sake, don't ask me to lie on that couch and mumble a lot of nonsense.
-Are you sure you want me to ask questions? -I'll answer the first one.
I'm 31.
Well? How long have you been married, Mrs.
Newsome? -I've been married to Jonas for seven years.
-Seven.
Your only marriage? -As I told you before, Doctor, I don't follow fashions.
I take marriage seriously.
Perhaps too seriously.
Sometimes I wonder what I've been trying to prove-- maybe that personal dignity is more important than sentiment.
I won't say love.
That's an ambiguous and elusive word, Doctor.
A snare and a delusion.
You grow up dreaming about it and believing in it.
By the time you wake up, you're trapped.
Jonas would never understand that.
But I understand Jonas.
Only too well.
And although I've made a home for him-- a home he'd be proud to bring his friends to, and his business associates, even though they bore me to death-- Jonas has taken it all for granted.
The truth is I discovered a long time ago that Jonas is a very stupid man.
MATTHEW (VOICEOVER): In my professional capacity, I must remain completely detached.
MRS.
NEWSOME: He never gave anybody anything in his whole life, without expecting them to be terribly grateful for his generosity.
That's really the worst kind of selfishness.
I'd even forgive all that if he weren't such a bore.
That's what's hardest to bear.
MATTHEW (VOICEOVER): If I were her husband-- MRS.
NEWSOME: Though I wait on him hand and foot, he doesn't begin to appreciate the attention.
It's as though I weren't even there.
He's so concerned with his own affairs.
It takes all my strength to endure it with patience and silence.
I suppose I could endure all the rest of it.
Jonas is so unbearably insensitive.
As frightful as it is with all his impossible friends, it's even worse when we're alone.
We have absolutely nothing to say.
Have I amused you, Doctor? I hope you haven't misunderstood me.
-I hope I haven't.
-As I told you, Doctor, there's nothing you can do for me.
-I think you're absolutely right, Mrs.
Newsome.
I only wish I could do something for your husband.
-How was your day, darling? -My day? Well, I should say it was murder.
-Well, sit down, Matthew.
We'll have dinner in a moment, but rest a little first.
There.
This should fix you.
What's the matter? -I think a ghost passed over me.
-Oh.
Anyone I know? -Nobody I even know, really.
-Oh, you do need a drink! -I wonder what the Borgias thought when someone offered them a drink.
-Oh, did their own mixing, or stayed on the wagon would be my guess.
Why? What brought the Borgias up? -Even the flowers die.
-You know, you're not making any sense.
-I know, but I think I made sense with Mrs.
Newsome.
Well, here's how.
Down with the subconscious.
-You're better now, huh? For a moment there, I thought you were detached.
-Deborah, I've come to the conclusion that maybe I'm not always as detached as I thought I was.
-Well, I don't think I have the faintest idea what you're talking about, but don't let it get you downhearted.
-Remember what Macbeth asked his doctor? Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, raze out the written troubles of the brain, and with some sweet oblivious antidote cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff which weighs upon the heart? -Nothing a little reupholstering wouldn't help.
Now perhaps you'll let me re-cover the couch in your office.
Poor Matthew.
You must have had a dreadful day.
Now lie down and be comfortable.
There.
Now.
Tell me all about it.
-Did I ever tell you about Clara's pink ribbons? I don't know why I suddenly remembered them today, but somehow my mind started to wander.
And as it wandered, I wondered-- ANNOUNCER: Our Ronald Colman will return in just a moment.
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-We all enjoyed having you with us this evening as guests of the Singer Sewing Machine Company.
We hope you'll be with this again two weeks from tonight, when our star will be David Niven, in Four Star Playhouse.
Thanks again.
Good night.
[THEME MUSIC.]
ANNOUNCER: Singer! Outstanding leader in the manufacture of sewing machines for both industry and the home.
Always look for the famous Singer and Red S trademarks.
Tonight on Four Star Playhouse, Singer presents Ronald Colman in "Ladies on his Mind.
" MATTHEW: Goodbye, love.
I'm leaving now.
-Wait a minute, Matthew.
Come here a moment.
I want to show you something.
-My first appointment's at 10:00, so that gives me a comfortable margin.
Thus fortified, I am prepared to slay dragons.
-Well, before you do, Sir Galahad, I need some help.
Pick one of those out for me, will you? -Well, if you give be another cup of coffee, I will.
-Coming up.
Still hot, I think.
Now.
Which one do you like? -Well, I should say the rose satin stripe suits your coloring best.
-Oh but it isn't for me.
It's for your couch at the office.
-My couch.
Why? -Well, it's been on my mind for some time.
It needs something.
-Well, thank you, Deborah.
I don't think that needs reupholstering.
-You must admit it's very dreary.
-Well I should say it's neutral.
Should be.
After all, a psychiatrist is supposed to be an interior analyst, not decorator.
-Well, I don't see what harm a cheerful covering would do.
Now something like this might brighten the gloomy subconscious of some of your victims.
-Well I'm afraid it might distract them, more likely.
-Well, I wasn't only thinking of your patients, darling, I was thinking of you.
You have to sit there all day, staring at that couch, while they babble on.
-Better babbling than bedlam, my dear.
-Bedlam indeed.
I don't know how you managed to keep yourself together getting involved in so many other people's lives.
You have to play more roles than an actor.
-Only one role, darling.
And unfortunately a dispassionate one.
No, I'm simply a listening post, trying to detect the peccadilloes and the [INAUDIBLE.]
patterns of human misbehavior.
-I'll sure you peck a pretty dillo.
Still, sounds like a risky business to me.
Whenever I listen to somebody else's troubles, I find myself right smackin the middle of them in no time at all.
-Oh, naturally, Debbie, because you listen as a warm-hearted and sympathetic friend.
But I in my professional capacity must remain completely detached.
The unobtrusive bystander, who looks and listens, and tries to understand but who must always remain completely apart.
-I know, Matthew.
And you're a magnificent doctor.
Still, I'm glad I've never seen you completely detached.
If I ever did, the shock would probably turn me into one of your patients.
And I'd be the most awful bore.
-An idle speculation, my love, because detachment, where you're concerned, is beyond the realm of possibility.
-Go detach yourself, Matthew, you're late.
-Yes.
Many happy analyses of the day, Doc.
I'll see you at dinnertime.
-Bye! -Bye! -I'm sorry, but Dr.
Bosanquet cannot talk to you now.
He's with a patient.
Yes.
I'll tell him you called.
Thank you.
Goodbye.
-The leaves were all shades of red and brown.
Strange it was autumn.
It should have been spring, you know.
I was so very young, and all my thoughts were spring thoughts.
I had every reason to believe I was in love.
You see, Doctor, even the words I use-- thoughts, reason, believe.
Always my head! -A Frenchman once said, the heart is a faculty of which we deprive ourselves daily for want of exercise, whereas the mind becomes keener day by day.
-The heart's there, alright.
But if only it would give one big throb, or even miss a beat occasionally, then I think I could be really happy.
-Well let us be thankful you have a sound heart.
Less business for my cardiac friends.
-Yes.
Let it be said that she has a heart of oak, a tree that bears no fruit.
A round of applause for a good study ticker.
Charlotte Kirby's abandoned passion, the fretful frenzy of her embrace-- ah.
She who wears her heart upon her sleeve for critics to peck at.
-Even the most peckish critic cannot deny your sincerity as an actress, Miss Kirby.
I had the pleasure of seeing you in both Cleopatras, and I must say, as a layman, your performance seemed emotionally true and unexaggerated.
-You're very sweet, Doctor.
It's one thing to give a convincing impression of passion.
Quite another to experience it yourself.
I would gladly trade all professional reward if for one moment, I could be an amateur in love.
You understand what I mean? I believe I can talk freely to you, Doctor.
And believe me, that's something new and rare.
Perhaps it's because you're so detached.
-Simply a listening post.
MISS KIRBY: And I'm not required to give a performance to prove that I'm a woman, not just a still life.
-Now, won't you please lie back and relax, Miss Kirby.
Some other time, we can discuss histrionics, perhaps.
But for now, let us return to-- where were we? The leaves.
Autumn.
-Yes.
Autumn.
Autumn and Edgar.
Poor Edgar.
He gathered the leaves in his hands and threw them out over the wall, down the cliff.
We watched them flutter down.
Down.
Dead leaves.
I must have shuddered, for he clasped my hand.
His was warm, but mine was as cold and lifeless as the leaves.
MATTHEW (VOICEOVER): I am simply a listening post.
I must remain completely detached.
MISS KIRBY: And when he put his arm about me and kissed me, I screamed.
Not from horror or fear or any kind of feeling-- it was like the cry of a stone.
Poor Edgar.
How could I expect him to understand? I could've died from shame if he had known the truth about me-- that I was dead inside, a white glacier clouded in a mist of tears.
MATTHEW (VOICEOVER): But if I had been Edgar.
MISS KIRBY: How could he know that I was inaccessible? There was no key to unlock the door.
Really, no door at all.
Just a wall of ice.
I'm not much of a memory, I guess-- that is, for myself.
Just an anthology of roles, a filing case of ingenues and leading ladies.
When I'm offstage, I feel like an impostor pretending I'm alive.
The truth is, there's not much point in probing an iceberg.
The 9/10 under the water is just the same, only colder.
-The ultimate destiny of the coldest iceberg is to melt in warmer waters.
Tired? -Weary, perhaps, but not tried.
I'm not much good at this sort of thing, I'm afraid.
Too self-conscious to be of much help.
Right? -On the contrary, Miss Kirby, this has been a most satisfying session.
Let me put it this way.
You are a fastidious and discriminating person.
And since apparently you have not yet encountered someone who fulfills your expectations, you have-- however unwittingly and modestly-- but the blame on yourself.
-Blame? -You've conveniently created a fictional image to hide your own true self.
That self, I'm sure, is so full of warmth and vitality that you've tried every art to conceal it, for fear you might be trapped by your own natural, affectionate impulses.
-Go on, Doctor.
-I'd like to substitute for your-- a deprecating description of yourself as an iceberg-- shall we say, a potential bonfire? Which needs only the right spark to burst into flame.
-Really, Doctor, I think you know more about me than I know myself.
- I feel much better.
Should I-- -Prognosis favorable.
-Thursday, 11:00? -If you like.
But I don't think you'll be a patient much longer, Miss Kirby.
-I hope you're right, Doctor.
Goodbye.
-Mrs.
Shaw is waiting, Doctor.
-Shaw? -You interviewed her last week.
Remember, Mrs.
Mysterious Migraines -Migraines, oh yes.
Yes.
Thank you, Miss Kimble.
SHow her in, will you? -I must say, Doctor, Miss Kirby looked as pleased as punch.
-She did? Well, it's quite possible she's going to find a new role for herself.
I'd like to send her flowers for her opening night.
FEMALE ANNOUNCER: Do you know that Singer, and the only Singer, offers you all three types of sewing machines? This is the famous straight-needle Singer-- dependable as only a Singer can be.
The smoothest stitching, easiest running, best loved sewing machine in the world.
This is the amazing Swing needle, the finest of all zigzag machines, which does all sorts of stitches-- monograms, makes buttonholes, sews on buttons-- all without special attachments! And here is the brand new slant needle Singer, the most exciting, most modern, most revolutionary sewing development of all.
The needle slants towards you.
It's the only home sewing machine in the world with this wonderful new slant needle to give you greater visibility.
Instead of bending forward to see what you're sewing, you can sit in a comfortable, relaxed position.
The new slant needle Singer has wide range speed control, lets you sew slower or faster than any other machine-- so important when you're doing fine details, like the scallops on this little girl's dress.
And see how easily this new slant needle Singer does popular fashion stitching-- without attachments.
This is a stark stitch.
Doesn't it look like beautiful, expensive embroidery? And here's a really exquisite thing.
Needlepoint? No, it's the exciting new Singer-point.
With a clever slant needle Singer, anyone can learn to do it.
As you can see, it's strikingly beautiful on black velvet with roses shaded in pinks and greys.
Singer-point adds a richness and beauty to your home.
Yet it's so inexpensive.
And here's an exclusive feature you'll like.
This remarkable new slant needle Singer is a cabinet and a lightweight portable all in one! Remember, only Singer offers you all three types-- the world-famous straight needle Singer, the swing needle-- finest of all zigzag machines-- and the most revolutionary development of all, the new slant needle Singer-- all in many beautiful cabinet styles.
See them.
Try them.
Call or visit your Singer Sewing Center tomorrow.
-Doesn't seem to make any sense, Doctor.
One minute I'll be feeling perfectly fine.
Then the next, for no reason at all-- why, it's like somebody hitting me very hard with the flat of his hand, right on my forehead, right here.
I don't feel it on the outside at all.
It's all deep inside, right above the eyes, and I can't hold up my head anymore.
-Do you have such a headache now, Mrs.
Shaw? Do you have a headache now, Mrs.
Shaw.
-No.
Should I? -No, it was just a question, not a request.
Go on, please.
And I think it may help if you forget your symptoms for a while, and just tell me a little bit more about yourself.
-I'm not very interesting, Doctor.
I mean, that is, nothing much happens to me.
I live a very simple life, really.
Tom likes it that way, too.
Well there's no reason to bring Tom into this.
He's been very patient and very devoted, and we've been very happy ever since we've gotten married.
That's what makes it so difficult about Leonard, you see.
-Leonard is a friend, I take it? -Of course, Doctor! What did you think? I mean if he weren't a friend, there wouldn't be any problem, would it? Well it's hardest of all on Leonard.
I mean that, Doctor.
Now I'm not trying to deny that it's not very confusing for me.
I'm just grateful that Tom doesn't seem to be aware of what's happening-- I mean, what would happen if I let it.
That is, how Leonard feels.
After all, he's so sincere.
I can't be mean, can I? Well it's not his fault.
Well it's not anybody's fault.
Well it's life, isn't it? -If you mean that many things occur in one's life for which one doesn't seem responsible.
That is, model responsibility in personal relationships can often be difficult to determine.
-Oh I'm not blaming Leonard, even if he is Tom's best friend.
I mean, if he weren't, he wouldn't have met me, and none of this would have happened.
I mean, nothing really has happened.
Except for the way he feels.
You can't be angry with a man for being deeply in love with you, can you? -Mrs.
Shaw, I'd suggest that you don't make any judgments yet.
I'd prefer it if you'd lie back and relax, and just talk.
-What do you want me to talk about? -Oh, whatever you'd like.
Anything.
Everything.
Just let yourself go.
Only don't apologize or explain.
-You know it's very comfortable here.
I hope I don't fall asleep.
-I wouldn't worry about that.
-You know it's funny what floats through your head when you're not thinking.
You see things.
Our breakfast room, for instance.
And the coffee in Tom's cup that's stone-cold because he didn't have a chance to finish it.
He'd miss his train.
There's something about cold coffee that makes me shiver Tom always has to run to make it at the last minute.
You know, I don't think he would have been on time for our wedding, if Leonard hadn't taken over.
One thing is sure.
Leonard is always punctual.
And practical.
And discreet.
MATTHEW (VOICEOVER): I am just an unobtrusive bystander.
I must remain discreetly apart.
MRS SHAW: But you know as well as I know Leonard, I'm never quite sure what he's thinking.
He's able to conceal his thoughts.
Very lucky for everybody concerned.
MATTHEW (VOICEOVER):Now if I were Leonard-- MRS SHAW: Leonard has such magnificent control of himself.
He seems just about to tell me exactly how he feels, but he has such great respect for me.
And because I try to be as gentle and considerate as I can -- friendly, you know, but at arm's length-- but at arm's length-- but at arm's length-- but at arm's length-- Of course, Leonard would never make any advances, because obviously, I wouldn't tolerate them.
It must be terrible, though, to suffer love unrequited.
But I suppose Leonard finds some little happiness in just being with me.
It's sad, though.
It's funny.
I feel much better already.
You are quite wonderful, Doctor.
A little frightening, though.
I feel as though you can see right through me.
-Well it's interesting you should say that, Mrs.
Shaw.
Because if that is true, then I think you'll be through with me.
-Mrs.
Shaw's file, Doctor.
-I won't need it, Miss Kimball.
Mark the case closed.
-That was a quick cure.
-No cure.
No case.
Since she seemed so disappointed, I prescribed a light diet.
Less spice and sauce in her imagination.
But to make her completely happy, I also suggested medication.
Sodium acytel salicylate.
She was delighted.
-I don't think that girl will take aspirin for an answer.
By the way, Mrs.
Jetson cancelled again.
Your next appointment isn't until 4:00.
A new patient, Mrs.
Miriam Newsome.
So you have a couple of hours to yourself, Doctor.
-I think it all began with Clara's pink ribbons.
Couldn't have been more than six, six and 1/2.
Yes, it was a year after we left Boston.
Clara was crying.
Embarrassing.
Sister two years older crying.
Clara with her braids and pink ribbons.
How I hated those pink ribbons.
I know she only wore them because-- oh, no, no, no! Pink ribbons! Not yet, old boy.
Not yet.
-Mrs.
Newsome, Dr.
Bosanquet.
-Good afternoon, Mrs.
Newsome.
-How do you do? -Won't you be seated? -You can't do anything for me.
-Splendid.
In that case, it's been a pleasure meeting you.
-Everybody speaks very highly of you.
Of course, it's the fashionable thing to do.
Only I think anybody who follows fashions is a jellyfish.
-And jellyfish never swim against the current, do they? -Exactly.
Ashtray, please.
-That's a very fashionable suit you're wearing, Mrs.
Newsome.
-Well, that kind of fashion.
Now, Doctor, don't tell me that's some kind of awful fetish or something.
-No.
I like it.
-I can see what they mean already.
The charming approach.
Frankly, Doctor, I'm only here out of curiosity.
-Then I trust you won't mind my own.
-Not at all.
I expect you to ask questions.
But I would like to make myself quite clear at the start.
I've always thought that coming to someone such as yourself-- and I don't mean this as a personal affront-- but the idea is rather revolting and ridiculous.
It's true that I've been on edge the past year or so, but the reason is no secret.
I try very hard to be patient understanding, but the fact is my husband has become intolerable.
Well, that's it.
That's all.
Isn't it ethical to talk this way, or am I only supposed to talk about myself? -I'm a doctor, not a judge, Mrs.
Newsome.
-Yes, of course, but you must have opinions.
Men always do.
I've never met an objective man in my life.
-Attractive women seldom do.
-Careful, doctor.
I'll begin enjoying this.
You'd better start asking your questions.
Let's see if we're going to get anywhere with this silly business.
And for heaven's sake, don't ask me to lie on that couch and mumble a lot of nonsense.
-Are you sure you want me to ask questions? -I'll answer the first one.
I'm 31.
Well? How long have you been married, Mrs.
Newsome? -I've been married to Jonas for seven years.
-Seven.
Your only marriage? -As I told you before, Doctor, I don't follow fashions.
I take marriage seriously.
Perhaps too seriously.
Sometimes I wonder what I've been trying to prove-- maybe that personal dignity is more important than sentiment.
I won't say love.
That's an ambiguous and elusive word, Doctor.
A snare and a delusion.
You grow up dreaming about it and believing in it.
By the time you wake up, you're trapped.
Jonas would never understand that.
But I understand Jonas.
Only too well.
And although I've made a home for him-- a home he'd be proud to bring his friends to, and his business associates, even though they bore me to death-- Jonas has taken it all for granted.
The truth is I discovered a long time ago that Jonas is a very stupid man.
MATTHEW (VOICEOVER): In my professional capacity, I must remain completely detached.
MRS.
NEWSOME: He never gave anybody anything in his whole life, without expecting them to be terribly grateful for his generosity.
That's really the worst kind of selfishness.
I'd even forgive all that if he weren't such a bore.
That's what's hardest to bear.
MATTHEW (VOICEOVER): If I were her husband-- MRS.
NEWSOME: Though I wait on him hand and foot, he doesn't begin to appreciate the attention.
It's as though I weren't even there.
He's so concerned with his own affairs.
It takes all my strength to endure it with patience and silence.
I suppose I could endure all the rest of it.
Jonas is so unbearably insensitive.
As frightful as it is with all his impossible friends, it's even worse when we're alone.
We have absolutely nothing to say.
Have I amused you, Doctor? I hope you haven't misunderstood me.
-I hope I haven't.
-As I told you, Doctor, there's nothing you can do for me.
-I think you're absolutely right, Mrs.
Newsome.
I only wish I could do something for your husband.
-How was your day, darling? -My day? Well, I should say it was murder.
-Well, sit down, Matthew.
We'll have dinner in a moment, but rest a little first.
There.
This should fix you.
What's the matter? -I think a ghost passed over me.
-Oh.
Anyone I know? -Nobody I even know, really.
-Oh, you do need a drink! -I wonder what the Borgias thought when someone offered them a drink.
-Oh, did their own mixing, or stayed on the wagon would be my guess.
Why? What brought the Borgias up? -Even the flowers die.
-You know, you're not making any sense.
-I know, but I think I made sense with Mrs.
Newsome.
Well, here's how.
Down with the subconscious.
-You're better now, huh? For a moment there, I thought you were detached.
-Deborah, I've come to the conclusion that maybe I'm not always as detached as I thought I was.
-Well, I don't think I have the faintest idea what you're talking about, but don't let it get you downhearted.
-Remember what Macbeth asked his doctor? Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, raze out the written troubles of the brain, and with some sweet oblivious antidote cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff which weighs upon the heart? -Nothing a little reupholstering wouldn't help.
Now perhaps you'll let me re-cover the couch in your office.
Poor Matthew.
You must have had a dreadful day.
Now lie down and be comfortable.
There.
Now.
Tell me all about it.
-Did I ever tell you about Clara's pink ribbons? I don't know why I suddenly remembered them today, but somehow my mind started to wander.
And as it wandered, I wondered-- ANNOUNCER: Our Ronald Colman will return in just a moment.
Singer, and only Singer, offers you all this.
Three types of sewing machines-- the straight needle, the swing or zigzag needle, and the new slant needle Singer.
Easy budget terms, liberal trade-in allowance, singer prices from $94.
50.
A complete sewing course under trained Singer instructors.
Expert Singer service and parts as near as your telephone.
Only Singer offers you a lifetime of sewing satisfaction.
-We all enjoyed having you with us this evening as guests of the Singer Sewing Machine Company.
We hope you'll be with this again two weeks from tonight, when our star will be David Niven, in Four Star Playhouse.
Thanks again.
Good night.
[THEME MUSIC.]