 The Lux Radio Theatre brings you Betty Davis and Paul Henry in Mr. Skeffington. Ladies and gentlemen, your guest producer, Mr. William Keely. Greetings from Hollywood, ladies and gentlemen. Some years ago, I went to a graduation play at a dramatic school in New York City. The leading lady was a small but able-ness named Betty Davis. A few days later, when we were casting for a new play, I suggested that Ms. Davis be given what proved to be her first professional reading. The rest is history, for little Betty has since become the first lady of the film. One of her more recent successes is tonight's play, Warner Bros. Moving and Distinguished Drama, Mr. Skeffington. And co-starred in the title role tonight is Paul Henry, who has contributed so many star interpretations to the screen. The action of our play occurs between two world wars, a period during which women, like the lovely Mrs. Skeffington, discovered new freedom and leisure, largely through the medium of labor-saving methods and conveniences. One of the conveniences that rose to popularity throughout these years was Lux Flakes. And that popularity has steadily increased and spread to almost every country of the globe. In Paris, where I was a few months ago, a package of Lux Flakes was almost literally worth its weight in gold, proving that daintiness and grooming are a prime concern of women everywhere. And that, I feel, is as it should be. Now on to our play, as the curtain rises on act one of Mr. Skeffington, starring Betty Davis as Fanny and Paul Henry as Skeffington, with Marjorie Reardon as their daughter and Joseph Kearns as George. I called this afternoon on my cousin Mrs. Job Skeffington. It was late when I left, almost dark, in the little park across from the house. I saw it. I don't know how I came to recognize Job, so broken he was and shabby. His hands rested on his cane. He stared through the quiet dust like a man in a dream. Who? Who is it? Job. Job, it's I, George Trellis, Fanny's cousin. George. I haven't said, Job. When did you get back in New York? I? Yesterday. I escaped, George. At the age of 62, I escaped from a Nazi prison camp. Job? Well, we didn't know what had happened. You're going to see Fanny. Come on, I just left her. No, I, I had not planned to see her. The house? It's still there. Oh, just as it's always been, Job, nothing's changed. Fanny's well? Oh, yes. Yes, she's well. In my little girl. Little Fanny. She's fine, Job. Oh, what a pity. She left New York this noon. Gone? On her way to Seattle to be married. Married? A fine boy. Oh, they're very much in love. Married. Job. Job, come. We'll see Fanny. No, later, perhaps. I don't know. Well, then come home with me. There's so much to talk about. You said that nothing has changed. No, I, I just like to sit here alone. Yes, of course, Job. Please, say nothing to Fanny about me. Not, not yet. If you wish, Job. Good night. I went directly home. And all night long, I've sat here unable to get the picture of Job Skeffington out of my mind. Seems incredible that nearly 25 years have passed since Job first met Fanny. How well I remember that. Edward, don't you dare come in my room. Since when am I Edward? Then who is it? George. Which George? How many Georges are there in your life? Awesome, George. George. Fanny. Oh, what a wonderful surprise. Well, don't I get a kiss? There. Let me see. Yes, even after two years, you look rather nice. Rather nice. That's all you ever say. I'm sorry, but I just can't think of you as beautiful even if you are. Oh, hello, Mamby. Mr. George. How do you do? Tell me, I saw four strange faces downstairs. Who are they? Schuster? An entirely new bat. She still has every man in New York at her feet, Mr. George. And you're going out with the bat? Out? Oh, no, it's a disaparty. And you may stay. Oh, thank you. Well, I thought I heard that boy. Crippy. Well, well, welcome back. How have you been? Well, it's fine. How have you been? Couldn't be better. Don't fall down in the faint, George. But my brother has a job. He's working. No. I'm a customer's man. Skeffington and company. Skeffington and company? The Jewish firm? Yes. You like working for him? He's all right. Well, he must pay awfully well. Here you are giving dinner parties, and I thought you were practically broke. Well, the fact is, George, I made a little killing. And I thought if I gave a dinner party, it might further arouse his killer instinct. George, you don't have to worry about us anymore. I hope it's all true. Why do you say that? Because you still don't look anyone straight in the eye, Trippy. Still picking on me, George. Now, now, Trippy Dally, you run along and finish dressing. You know you're always late. What is it, Sol? I'm very sorry, miss. A gentleman has seen Mr. Trellis or Mr. Skeffington. Skeffington? Who didn't invite him to dinner? I more certainly did not. Tell him I'll see him in the morning. Yes, sir. And miss, your guests are beginning to arrive. Thank you, Sol. Sol, ask Mr. Skeffington to wait. Yes, sir. Why? Well, I think it'd be a nice gesture if you saw your employer. You'll get more work out of him in the long run. He's got no right by jing in here. Dally, obviously, he didn't come for a free dinner. It must be something important. Well, get rid of him. I won't see him. Well, what do we tell him about Trippy? Oh, I'll think of some lie, rather. Trippy keeps me in practice. Let's get it over with, Georgie. And please, don't look so worse. I'm so sorry about Trippy, Mr. Skeffington. Unfortunately, he's in bed with a severe cold. A headache? Both. Well, it's quite possible the cold brought on the headache. Yeah, see, he'll be at his desk in the morning, Mr. Skeffington. I hardly think so. Your cousin is no longer in my employ. No longer? But if he's no longer in your employ, fires me, told me. Well, a man with a cold is seldom very communicative. Well, if you'll excuse me now. There's nothing you care to discuss with us. Well, since your cousin avoided me tonight, it's undoubtedly he will again in the morning, perhaps I'd better. Uh, it's a rather delicate matter, Miss Trellis. I'm staying right here, Mr. Skeffington. I'm on my way to see the district attorney. I don't think I'm going to be able to take the standing up. Maybe we'd all better sit down. Thank you. Has Trippy done something awful? Your brother has good many qualities, Miss Trellis. Which is going to be worse than I thought. As a bond salesman, he made a brilliant start. His orders piled up until we discovered that these people he's been selling stock to don't even exist. You see, he threw in enough consolations to make the whole thing seem quite authentic. And then, well, there. They were here and there. They were some legitimate sales. But you had to look for them. It wasn't very clever of him, was it? He has a definite talent for picking odd names and addresses. But it's hardly worth $20,000 which paid him in commission. He's stolen $20,000. Yes, I'm afraid so. Does Trippy know you now? Yes. You should have gone to the district attorney long ago. Well, I was quite touched to discover he lost most of the money at the racetrack. That touched you? Yes, sir. Considering they were my horses, he bet on and I'd give him the tip. Oh, Trippy, did we know? Oh, I'm sorry, Miss Trellis. Fortunately, it won't be any hardship for you to return the money. No hardship? Uh, Mr. Skaffington, you may as well know that Miss Trellis and her brother are stone broke. I don't understand. The Trellis' wealth was a legion. Well, no, it's a myth. It's been a myth for some time. Mrs. Skaffington, Trippy could get another job and pay you back a little each week. You couldn't write him a reference, could you? Well, I could, but my heart wouldn't be in it. Well, all we can do then is to throw ourselves on your mission. Miss Trellis, it's not my money. It's the corporation's. But the horses were yours and not the corporation's, weren't they? Yes, it's true. But I'm not quite sure of the logic. If you could just give us a little time, maybe there's something I could salvage. Well, perhaps I can make it right for a little while. Oh, Mr. Skaffington, how can I thank you? How can I... Please, please. All right, Seaman, I'm keeping you from your guests. Won't you stay for dinner? After all, in a way, you're the host. It's your money. I'm dining with the district attorney. Just a social call. Good night, Mr. Trellis. Good night, Mr. Skaffington. Mr. Trellis, good night. I'd like to wring Trellis' neck. There's nothing to worry about, George. No. No? There'll be three dozen roses in the morning. Three dozen roses? From Mr. Skaffington. Oh, good morning, miss. Good morning, Mandy. Just look, miss. All these flowers. What a beautiful basket. Oh, Mandy, which ones are for Mr. Skaffington? No flowers came for Mr. Skaffington, miss. These are Mr. Skaffington's and Mr. Condily's. Were there any calls, Mandy? I mean, other than Mr. Skaffington and Mr. Condily's? The Reverend Dr. Parker. He wanted to know if you sold the bizarre ticket. No, not a one. You're sure there were no other calls? No, miss. Mandy, would you mind looking up the address of the ticket? No, no, never mind. Mandy, I'm going downtown. If my brother or cousin should ask, I've gone shopping. Miss Trellis, I... Well, please come in. I had no idea you'd be calling. I knew you were busy, Mr. Skaffington. I didn't mind waiting, and I do want you to know I'm not here to talk about tripping. Good. It's a painful subject. Cigar? Oh, I'm terribly sorry. It's automatic. All my visitors are men. I see. Mr. Skaffington, I came to ask if you'd buy some tickets for a bizarre. It's for the children's hospital or the home for the aged. I don't quite remember which. Anyway, it's printed on the ticket. They're $25 a piece. Well, well, they're both very worth the cost. I'll take a dozen. Oh, no, two is quite enough. You don't get a thing for your money. Or are you used to that? Excuse me. Hello? Yes. Yes? What is it now? All right. Buy 10,000 at 23 and a half. I'm sorry. Mr. Skaffington, please forgive me for being so curious, but it sounds very important. 10,000 what? 10,000 shares of steel. Oh, at 23 and a half dollars a share? Why, yes. Well, if you're that casual about money, I'll let you buy the dozen tickets after all. You know, Mr. Skaffington, I've never once seen the stock exchange. I'd be glad to show you around sometime. Well, that's very nice of you, but isn't it a little vague? Can you make it right now? Well, I have a luncheon engagement with Janey Clarkson, but we don't like each other very much, so she probably won't be there either. Well, in that case, will you have lunch with me? Oh, I'd be delighted. Then could I see the stock exchange afterwards? If you'd like. Shall we go then to the... Have you seen the ticker? No, why? Germany, just a click long. Oh, excuse me, Mr. Ellis. Get all of our branch offices on the phone. Yes, sir. Keep a wire open to Washington. Hello, Casey. Keep me posted on wheat. See you tonight, cheese. Yes, yes, I know. Mr. Skaffington. See you at the 28. Shall we buy? No, sir. Sell all the owns. Yes, sir. A wheat that's 12. What about Chicago? Mr. Skaffington. What about Chicago? Mr. Skaffington. Sir, shall we call for margin? There's Casey. Somebody get hold of Casey. This is Skaffington. I came back for Danny Clarkson after all. Watson wants an immediate answer. Well, they won't get it. It's ready. Ready to go. It's ready. Fanny's retreat from Skaffington's office was one of her very rare defeats. And it took the outbreak of the First World War to do it. But two days later, a strange thing happened. Paul Vanny, the famous painter, called. He said he had a commission to paint Fanny's portrait if she'd agree. She refused to divulge his patron's name. Fanny thought it quite a lot. Weeks later, when the portrait was completed, we went to Vanny's studio to look at. You know what happened yesterday, Georgie? Jim Connolly offered Mr. Vanny double his fee for the portrait. That is quite true, Mr. Trellis. Well, why didn't you accept? Because my client has paid four times as much. The extra money is to keep me quiet. Fanny, I simply don't understand. It's not like you to have to spend all these tires an hour sitting for a portrait you won't own for a man you don't even know. I think it's very romantic. Romantic? What if we walk into a saloon someday and see you hanging over a bar? Georgie, I doubt very much if I'll ever get that drunk. Anyway, whoever ordered the portrait is sending $1,000 to my favorite charity. Georgie, would it be charity if we use that money for tripping? $1,000 won't help, Fanny. So we may as well be honest. Uh, by the way, you've heard nothing from Kessington? Not a word. Well, I must say he's been very decent. Sooner or later, though, we'll have to face him. Well, Mr. Vanny, what happened to the portrait now? The trust for a man awaiting with a trust. It'll be delivered. Oh, it will. Well, um, well, I think I'll be running along, Georgie. I have a date with Jamie Clarkson. You do? Didn't I tell you? Thank you very much, Mr. Vanny. You may tell your client I hope he's free. On the street, I saw Fanny getting into a taxi cab. A taxi cab parked directly behind a transfer truck. I should have known from the start. She'd find out who commissioned that portrait if it took her the rest of her life. Actually, it took about 30 minutes. The painting was delivered to the home of Job Skeffington. Two days later, Fanny and Job Skeffington went off to New Jersey and were married. Coming back to New York, they took the ferry boat across the North River. Job? Yes, Fanny. Where were you born? Right there, New York. Cherry Street. Cherry Street? Where's that? It was Slums. Skeffington. That's a strange name for the Slums. It's not my real name, you know. The immigration official wasn't a good stellar. Skeffington was the closest he could get some to Skevinskazaya. Job, you realize I know next to nothing about you. Were you poor? You have no idea how poor. Well then, how did you become so successful? It's routine. Rags to riches. Of course, I sold newspapers. Of course, there was a messenger on Wall Street and went to school at night. You can fill in the rest. There's one difference. You didn't marry the boss' daughter. No, but I married the woman everybody else wanted. That makes up for it. Huh. Job, what's going on over there, the music and all those people? Find out. Attendant. Yes, sir. What's going on over there? Oh, that's Philippe and Gus. They're playing for those kids. See, those kids just got married. Sometimes they find somebody that just got married. That's what they look for. Good tip. But how can they tell? Oh, I don't know what they do. They ain't messed up on newlyweds for 10 years. Can you beat that? Job, could you tell they were just married? I think I could. The way that girl's looking at that fellow, you couldn't miss. I see what you mean. The way I'm looking at you. No. You look as cordial, but not conubial. I've married you, Fanny, but I haven't won you. Job. So far, I've merely taken you away from all the others. Do you think that night when I broke into your dinner party was the first time I'd seen you? No. I'd seen you many times. Dining at Sherry's, dancing at the Waldorf, and so many young men. But you were never more beautiful than at night I came to see about tripping. Never so unattainable. That's why I commissioned Vanny to paint your portrait. At least I'd have that. Well, now you have both, the portrait and me. I own both. It isn't quite the same thing. Job, look. The musicians are coming this way. But they went right on past me. That's the point I was trying to make before. Why did you marry me? Because you're good and kind. And your eyes are special in a St. Bernard sort of way. And although I've never seen you really smile, I always have the feeling you're laughing at me. And I find that very attractive. Besides, you're very rich. Job, would you like to kiss me? Our stars, Betty Davis and Paul Henry, will return for act two of Mr. Skeppington in a moment. Contrary to what most people think, everyone in Hollywood isn't a movie star or extra. Hundreds of girls work in the studios as secretaries, typists, telephone operators, and live just like girls anywhere else in the country. Take Alice Dieg, who typed the script for Warner Brothers' new production, Mildred Pierce, starring Joan Crawford. Alice is just coming home from work. Where are you? In the kitchen. What's up? Oh, it's wonderful. Bill's ship just came in. Oh, Alice! We're going to dinner at the Brown Derby and then to a preview of Mildred Pierce. That's Joan Crawford's new one. Oh, it's her first picture in almost three years, isn't it? Zach Carson and Zachary Scott are in it with her. And imagine, I'll see it with Bill. It just opened in New York and the critics raved about it. I understand it's considered an excellent candidate for an Academy Award. Yes, a date like that calls for wearing something special. I thought I'd wear my new suit and that sweet glass I got for my birthday. Of course, I'll have to have a super slip because it's so sheer. Oh, Sue! Now what? I haven't any. I meant to buy a new slip today. What about the one you bought a couple of months ago with the lace on the bottom? You know I bought one just like that. Oh, you should see it. It's faded and the lace is torn and straps are frayed. I don't know what Sarah does to them. Well, Sarah puts everything in the same wash. She towels along with your undies. I've seen her. They can't take that hot water and strong soap and rough treatment. You mean your slip is still good? Of course. I always luxe mine. Look, I'll show you. I see it looks as nice as new. Oh, Sue. I know. I let myself in for it. You want to borrow it. Sue, would you let it to me this once? Yes. Luxe slips do stay lovely longer. In fact, three times as long, actual washing tests show. Strong soap, too hot water, and rough treatment soon fade colors. Make slips in the nighties look old and drab. Start tonight using thrifty luxe care for undies. Here's William Keely with our stars. Our curtain rises on the second act of tonight's play, starring Betty Davis as Fanny, and Paul Henry as Mr. Skeppington. Yes, that was a long time ago with their marriage, 1914. And I wonder when I saw him a few hours ago, alone in the empty park. I wonder if Joe too was thinking of what I am thinking now, of how after his marriage to Fanny, he had taken her across that park to her home. She wanted to see Crippy, her brother. Said she saw me. Oh, dear. Congratulations, Fanny and Joe. Well, congratulations. Thank you, George. I, for one, am delighted. Why do you say I, for one? Because all your bows are here. Thatcher, Morrison, Condoly, even that idiot Chester. They're quite crushed. They're in the kitchen eating turkey sandwiches. And Trippie? Oh, Trippie's out. Fanny, I don't mind feeding your suitors, but you're going to have to console. Well, Joe, should we get it over with? Well, I don't know if I'm quite up to it. They are full of turkey, and I'm not. But come on, I'm gay. Well, Jamson, look, good evening. I rather expected you to all be here to welcome me. I don't believe you've ever met Mr. Skeppington, have you? Joe, Mr. Condoly, Mr. Fanta, Mr. Morrison, and Mr. Hemsworth. You didn't get married through. Chester Darling, there's cranberry on your chin. Could I get you all some dessert? I'm afraid the best I can offer is canned peaches. Georgie, would you bring... Well, Mr. and Mrs. Skeppington. Trippie Darling, then you've heard. Everybody's heard. It's in the papers. We're on the front page. Not quite. You're listed under business transaction. Trippie, Trippie, you'd better go upstairs. Shame on you, boys, letting yourselves be out this. That's about enough, Trippie. Fanny, would you mind going inside? Oh, so I'm going to be challenged. He's going to heave his checkbook in my face. Trippie, you don't know what you're saying. You're drunk. I'm the one who swindled you, Skeppington. Why did you have to put her in jail? Fuck you little swine. Get out of here. Yes, I'll get out. You make me sick to my stomach, all of you. Would you? Would you? How could you? I didn't even know you were seeing him. But you're so wrong. Joe has character, and he's very nice. Oh, don't try to tell me you're in love with him. I'm not drunk enough to bear that. I'll tell you this much. You're safe now. You don't have to worry about anything anymore. That's why you married him. Because I owed him $20,000. Trippie, I'm very fond of Joe, but I love you. Now, Trippie Darling, go downstairs and apologize. Apologize. I'll spit in his eyes. Trippie, when you get to know Joe... I'm taking very good care that I don't get to know him better. I'm going to Europe. Europe? Well, isn't there a war on that? That's just why I'm going. I don't know who's going to get me. The French, the British. I'll toss a coin. Oh, Trippie, you're out of your mind. Yes, and you humiliated and sick. I hate him. I hate myself. Trippie, if you love me at all, you won't leave. I love you very much. But I despise Mrs. Gettys. That was the last we saw of Trippie. I was with Joe and Fanny on their first wedding anniversary. Before dinner, Joe and I were alone in the study. I'll just be free for dinner, Joe. No, Ed Morrison, probably. Morris? He barged in. He's upstairs with her now. What doesn't he know? What's your anniversary? He said he chose this night especially to ask her for my wife's hand in marriage. Your marrying Fanny hasn't discouraged any of them, has it? On the contrary. They seem to feel they have to rescue her. The trouble with Fanny is he's too kind to them. So gentle and considerate. How has she been with you, Joe? Kind, gentle and considerate. I'm a very patient man, Joe. All right, Fanny. I'll leave. But remember, I haven't given up yet. Well, apparently, Morrison is not staying. He'll be back again in about two weeks. Hello, George. Oh, hello, Fanny. Good evening, Joe, dear. George, your flower is a beautiful flower. Thanks. You like my gown, Joe? You look beautiful, Fanny. Beautiful. Fanny, I thought you might like this. If they were here, you open it. A diamond, Princess. Joe, Skepping, you know, it's lovely. You know, George, I keep forgetting that Joe can afford to give me things like this. How very sweet of you, Joe. You know, I'm simply famished. Is dinner ready? All ready. One thing about these proposals from Fanny's suitors, George. Yeah? They certainly give her a wail of an appetite. We went to the theater after dinner. Fanny was her usual sparkling self until we returned. Then suddenly she was ill. Before we knew it, she'd fallen to the floor. I don't worry, Mr. Skepping, since she's perfectly all right. And why did she faint, Doctor? I usually make a ceremony out of these things that will... you're going to be her father. Why? Why thank you. That's perfectly all right. May I, uh... may I go in and see her? I've given her a sedative, but you'll have about five minutes for the usual nonsense. Good night. Good night, Doctor. Is there anything I can do? No. Would you like to be alone? No. Well, I... I think any child of ours has a far chance of being stupid. You're laughing at me again, Joe. Oh, I suppose I'm just as fond of children as anybody else is. Well, it's just that... that babies grow up and everybody expects you to grow up with them. You are not afraid of growing old. Are you, Fanny? Yes, I am. Do I look puffy yet? Oh. No, you look beautiful. I don't know why. My face is all pierced in. I wanted to keep on crying, but I didn't have the strength. Soon I'll be all puffy and ugly. I don't want anybody to see me like that. I couldn't bear it. Fanny. Joe, George is going to California soon. I want to go with him and have my baby there. But I thought you loved his house. Of course I do, but it's too close to all my friends. I won't have them see me ugly. You'll never be ugly, Fanny. A woman is beautiful when she's loved. And only then. Nonsense. A woman is beautiful if she has eight hours sleep and goes to the beauty parlor every day. And bone structure has a lot to do with it, too. Fanny, aren't you really happy about having a baby? Joe, I just can't seem to see my eyes open anymore. Yes, dear. Fanny's baby was born in California. A month later, she was back in New York. Her devoted gentleman flocking about hers fervently as ever. But Joe was too enchanted with his little daughter to bother about them. Week before the child's second birthday, word came that Trippie had been killed in action. Fanny went completely to pieces in a frightening burst of hysteria. Fanny, please, get hold of yourself. I told him not to go to war. I told him, I told him, I told him. Fanny, let me say something. Please. Leave me alone. Trippie's dead. Trippie's dead. Joe, see what you can do. I'll get some brandy. Give it to him. Fanny, Fanny, darling, now you must. Don't even have been with Joe. Trippie would never have gone to war at all. He killed my brother. Fanny, you know that isn't true. Yes, he did. Fanny, please. For the rest of my life, he'll keep on looking at me with the puppy-dog eyes of his. So great. Joe loves you very much. You know that. It's real. I've brought you some brandy. Drink it down if you can. It will do you good. I suppose whatever Fanny did from then on, she could justify because Trippie was dead. Very little changed over the years, least of all Fanny's youth and radiance. She simply refused to grow any older. During the speakeasy era, she became fashionably involved with a rum runner. And Joe, quite openly, started to be seen with girls from his office. That's what was in his mind, I'll never know. Only one thing is certain. If he was trying to give Fanny grounds for divorce, he was highly successful. Oh, hello, Georgie. Or by yourself? Job's in the garden. With Fanny? Yes. How was it in court? Darling's dishwater. Fanny, tell me. Does she know about the divorce, young Fanny? It's quite impossible to keep anything from her. She's 11 years old now. You don't have to remind me. Fanny, can't you find it possible to forgive Job? Five secretaries in a row. I'm not that forgiving. Well, the second secretary must have forgiven him for the first, all the way down the line. Can't you be as forgiving as a secretary? Well, as a matter of fact, Georgie, I'm very grateful to Job. I must admit I was quite angry at first. Then suddenly I realized that the five secretaries for five gates of freedom. Now you can live with your conscience. Yes. I hope the two of you are very happy. George, is custody of the child always given to the mother? Why, don't you want her? Of course, of course. It's just that, well, poor little thing, I can't help but feel she'd so much rather be with Job. Oh, hello, Fanny. Well, how did you go? Very tired from Job. I naps now and then, so did the judge. Georgie, why don't you run out in the garden and amuse Fanny? Of course. I'm in a highly amusing mood. Well, Job, are you comfortable with the club? I have a choice for you of 47th Street. Oh, I do want to thank you for your very generous seven. Well, 12 years with the wrong husband should be rewarded. Well, of course it was ridiculous of you to settle a fortune on me, but then it would have been ridiculous for me to refuse with this. I'm glad you're going to be so reasonable about it. Still laughing at me without moving a muscle. I assure you, Fanny, it's no laughing matter. I can't bear to look at you, Job. Your eyes are such a fetish. And I repudiate my eyes. I have no right to feel hurt. I'm sorry, Job. I'm really sorry. I can't love you. You can't really love anyone. Well... Well, that's not meant as a reproach. That's just one of the facts of your life. You know, Job, I'm very fond of you, and I might never have taken this step at all if I hadn't discovered. Well, after all, Job, five of them. Oh, you mustn't think so harshly of my secretary. They were very nice and understanding when I came home to the... when I came to the office after a hard day at home. Job, really. Fanny, I... Job, please don't beg. Thank you, Fanny. I never begged you in my life. Oh, I haven't beg for headache. This isn't what I wanted to discuss with you at all. I'm sorry, but I have a headache, too. And I think mine precedes yours by quite a few years. I find this all very distasteful. All right. What is it you want to discuss? Our daughter. She's not going to be very happy staying with me. She loves you so much more. I'm no hypocrite. I'm glad she does. Yes, but you see, the court says a child should stay with its mother. Never mind what the court says. What do you say? Well, I think that a child's sure that it's just a... Are you sure that she won't be a hindrance to you? After all, you're young and beautiful. Don't be insulting. It isn't fair, Job. You know perfectly well that if Fanny is miserable, I should be miserable, too. Well, what do you want me to do? Well, if you could... Could talk to a Job and see how she feels about it. All right. I'll be glad to. Oh, thank you, Job. That's very sweet of you. May I take her out to dinner? That would be lovely. Maybe she could wear her blue organi. He reminds me of you. Darling, you haven't eaten hardly anything. I'm not very hungry. You haven't eaten either, Dan. Oh, I had a big lunch. It's a very nice orchestra, isn't it? It is. Daddy, aren't you coming home to live anymore? I'm afraid not, Fanny. Besides, I'm... I'm going to Europe in a few weeks. I'll be gone a long time. Oh, Daddy. First hour. Don't wait just coming. Oh, I'm sorry, Dad. Everything all right, sir? Yes, thank you. But, well, we are not hungry. Oh, were the young lady have some dessert? No, thank you. Oh, we have some very delicious cream glaciers. That means ice cream, Daddy. Vanilla, peppermint, strawberry. Blue peach. You can bring the young lady a tall glass of milk. Yes, sir. Fanny, dear, you'll see. You'll be very happy with your mother. Your mother loves you. You love me too, don't you? Yes. Why wouldn't I be happy with you too? Well, I don't know if I can explain this to you, Fanny. You see, your mother and I are of different fate. You believe in God? Don't you? Certainly I do. Oh, so does mommy. She told me so. Well, Fanny, it's, uh... You see, I'm Jewish. Your mother isn't. Now, if you stay with her, you will never know what it is to be a... Well, I mean, if you come to Europe with me, it's different there, and people may look upon you as, uh... Very difficult to explain to a child. If you don't want me, Daddy. I suppose I can always just by myself. Fanny. Oh, Daddy, Daddy, please take me with you. Even Europe. I won't be any trouble, I promise. You do, please? Well, well, let me see. You know, darling, there are wonderful schools in Switzerland. And you'll speak to mother? Or maybe she'll say yes. Oh, she will, darling, she will. Oh, Daddy. Now, Hush, here comes your milk. I think I'll have some. Ice cream after all. Yes, and, uh, waiter, you can bring me a play, too. We pause now for station identification. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System. So who wants to know why Alexis Smith always wears a gold angler? Because her ankles are so slim. Well, they are, but the reason is much more sentimental. The angler's engraved with the date she and her husband met, and she hasn't had it often since they were married. Alexis' legs are lovely, but you can judge for yourself when you see her in mass cities in blue. The big new musical based on the life of George Gershwin. Girls off the screen as well as on the screen like to flatter their legs. Here's one important secret. Luxe flakes for stockings save their elasticity. They can give as you move, but spring back into shape, always keeping their flattering fit. Of course, Luxe stockings last longer, too. In strain tests, Luxe stockings lasted twice as long as those washed with strong soap or rubbed with cake soap. So for better fit and better wear, give your stockings Luxe care. If your dealer is out of Luxe flakes right now, try again soon. More is on the way. Luxe is worth waiting for. Back to William Keely and our stars. After the final curtain, we hope you'll join us for a brief chat with tonight's stars. And now here's Act 3 of Mr. Skeffington with Betty Davis as Fanny and Paul Henry as Job. So Job Skeffington went to Europe, to Germany, and his daughter went with him. And there Job stayed. But as little Fanny grew up, she'd come to New York every summer. It was too bad she picked that time of year. Her mother never seemed to be in town. My darling daughter, where does time go? I thought surely I could see you this summer. I planned to be in New York in August, but that dreadful yacht at the Barnby broke down after Fanny. So it's Fanny, to think so many years had passed and we still haven't seen each other, but mother misses you very, very much. I am glad you liked your birthday gift. I don't remember. And so it went for 10 years. But this year, young Fanny failed to arrive in the summer. She came instead on an embarrassing October afternoon. Her mother was home having a cocktail with a young man. The older Fanny grew, the younger it seemed for her admirers. Fanny, remember that day at the country club when I introduced myself? Yes, Johnny. Well, I'm finally going to say what I wanted to say to you then. I'm in love with you, Fanny. You're really very sweet, Johnny. Oh, that tolerant tone. Johnny, if we're going sailing, we'd better get started. Do we have to go sailing? Oh, but I love sailing. And what is it, Sinton? Excuse me, madam, a young lady to see you. A young lady? She says she's your... Hello, mother. Good, Fanny. Fanny. Fanny's darling. My darling, this is such a surprise. Yes, I suppose it is, mother. You know you're the, uh, the last person I expected to see is, um, your father with you? Oh, no, he's still in Berlin. He says the Nazis don't frighten him, but he thought I'd better come back here to you. And here you are. Here I am. Oh, Johnny. Oh, forgive me. Fanny, this is Johnny Mitchell. Johnny, this is my, uh, baby. Fanny, how do you do? Hello. Fanny and I, uh... Fanny and I haven't seen each other for years, have we, darling? You know you're very, uh, tall for your age. Really? Oh, but, mother, I'm nearly... She's going to be a stunning woman, don't you think, Johnny? Oh, yeah. Yes, she's going to be. Darling, Johnny and I are going to go sailing. When I get back, we can talk for days and days. Fanny, do you think we are too? It gets pretty chilly. Chilly? You talk as if you were 40, 50 years old or something. Certainly we're going sailing. Well, I'll see you later then. Oh, yeah. Hey, wait. I can't call you both, Fanny. I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll call you young Fanny and you... Well, uh, I'll think of something. Hello? Fanny? Yes? This is Johnny Mitchell. Yes? Look, I... I don't want to alarm you, but... Well, your mother... We were coming in when she... Well, she... She just collapsed. She got pretty wet sailing. She must have gotten a chill or something. Oh, where's she now? I'm bringing her right home. You... You'd better call a doctor. Is your mother's maid around? Mamby? Yes? Well, Mamby'll know who to call. I'll... I'll have her home in half an hour. That night, Fanny was in the hospital with a raging fever. Dyssyria. Doctors warned us she might not live. At her age, they said. At her age? Who'd ever thought of Fanny as old? The beautiful, dazzling, Mrs. Keffington. Well, Fanny didn't die. And in 10 days after she'd passed the crisis... Yes, Mrs. Keffington? Nurse. Did Dr. Melton say when I may have visited? Yes, there'll be morning. But only one of you, please. I'll send him to his telephone my home. Under no circumstances do I want any of you to visit. No one must see this. No one. Oh, hello, cousin George. Hello, dear. Well, did your mother get home? Mm, 10 minutes ago. We were just having some tea. I would have to be out of town when all this happened. Well, did you two finally get acquainted? I'm afraid we've hardly had the chance. The doctor wouldn't allow any visitors at the hospital. And when she went to the rest home, she told me not to come. Darling, you don't know your mother very well. She wouldn't want anyone to see her unless she was looking her absolute best. And they tell me this theory is no beauty. That's company already, mother. George, what an unexpected pleasure. How are you, Fanny? Very well, thank you, even if I do look so dreadful. If you could never look anything but a daughter. You're lying, George. I know perfectly well how I look. Have some tea, George. Wasn't it just like me to contract a child to these? But it's the most dreadful nuisance handfuls of my hair came out all recently saved my life. Whose only? My hairdresser, of course. I don't know what I would have done without him. But here I am chattering on about myself. Fanny, what have you been doing? Oh, nothing very much, mother. Have you seen Johnny Mitchell? Yes, I've seen him. He's fine. George, do you know who I've been seeing? Oh, who? Joe. Joe? Yes, he just sits around all day staring at me with those soulful eyes of his. You mean you've been having a hallucination? Is that what it is? One day in the hospital, I shut my eyes and he suddenly appeared. Now I don't even have to shut my eyes. He appears just the same. Fanny, I do wish you'd write your father and ask him to stop it. Have you heard from him lately? No, not for weeks and weeks, and I'm terribly worried. Well, he hasn't had time to write. He's been too busy staring at me. I detest women who go to psychoanalysts, George, but what else am I to do? I'm seeing one next week, Dr. Tyler. Wonderful. Well, now I think I'll go to my room and rest. George, would you help a decrepit old lady up the stairs? Oh, Fanny, what nonsense. Keep talking, Mrs. Skaffington. I told you about the hallucinations, Dr. Tyler. What else is there to talk about? How old are you? Forty-five. Sixty. Well, I didn't sleep very well last night. Sleep is most important to a woman of your age, if you don't want to be an eyesore. Eyesore? Are you suggesting I am an eyesore? No, nor are you a Lillian Russell. Dr. Tyler. Step down, my dear lady. Your seeing your husband comes out of a subconscious desire to see him, a need for him. That's ridiculous. Nevertheless, that's where your husband comes in, when your romantic days are over. My romantic days are over. Oh, my poor woman. Oh, my poor doctor. Listen to me. The only person who will stick to such a woman as you is your husband. Admire a sweetheart, whatever you choose to call them, never mean what they say, and always end up by turning sour on the stomach. Your results. But my advice is sound. If you don't believe me, find out for yourself. See them, these gentlemen of your past. Ask the whole lot of them in for dinner. You can size them up and they can size you up. Shall I make you a waiter? If I wanted to, not that I do. But if I wanted to, all I would have to do is smile at one of them. All right, why don't you try it? Oh, you want me to prove it to you. No, to yourself. I'm sorry to have to be so blunt, Mrs. Skeffington, but you're one of the vast army of silly women. Capital S, capital W. You're overdressed, overmade up, and you're most certainly over-propumed. You are the rudest man I ever met. Did you come here to consult a gentleman or a doctor? I strongly suspect you are neither, and I'm not at all impressed with your manner. You will be when you get my bill. Go back to your husband. And you know where you can go. Fanny must have known what the party would be like. But along with her false hair, she wore a false gaity just as difficult to detect. They trooped in the stout-hearted gentleman of her past, who now were merely stout. They brought their wives along, and it was all very dismal and somewhat heartbreaking. Fortunately, they left early, all but Edward Morrison. He took Fanny out on the terrace. Fanny, oh, my darling. The same Edward, romantic as ever, and just look at her. You're bald, and I'm dilapidated. Well, that's ridiculous. We're both in the prime of life, and I still want to marry you, Fanny. Edward, you can't be serious. Fanny, I love you. I love you, Fanny. Edward, please! Oh, Fanny, we'll have a glorious life together, will we? No. Yes, Edward? I'm afraid I've disturbed your hair, dear. These, uh, these curls. What's the mystery? They're always falling off. They're, uh, very pretty. May I pin them on for you? No, Edward. Thank you. I think I'd better do it myself. They're very expensive, you know. Oh, well, thank heaven you don't have to worry about things like that. Oh, but I do. Only keeps me practically broke. They're broke? Well, practically. You, uh, you can't mean that, Fanny. If only I'd had a man to advise me. You should have returned a few years earlier, Edward. Yes, yes, I, I should have. It's getting late, Fanny. Yes, uh, don't bother seeing me to the door, Fanny. I'll think over your proposal. Oh, well, don't be too hasty. Marriage is a very serious step, hmm? Yes, it is, Edward. I'm so glad to see you. Goodbye, Fanny. Oh, uh, you don't happen to know of anyone interested in buying a coffee plantation, do you? No, but if I hear of anyone, I should be very happy to let you know. Thank you, Fanny. It's no good, but it's all I've got left. Mother. Mother, may I speak to you? Of course, Fanny. Mother, I just left John. Johnny and Mitzut, yes. We're going to be married. But I had no idea, Fanny. You haven't known him for very long. I've known him for several months. As long as I've known you. Don't you think you should have talked it over with your mother? Have I a mother? That's not very kind, Fanny. I've always loved you very much. Sort of a long-distance love. I never wanted you to leave me. It was just that you loved your father so much more. Oh, I know you had a difficult choice tonight. You couldn't be both a beauty and a mother. Oh, mother, I used to worry about my looks, too, when I was 13 and all arms and legs. But father would always comfort me. A woman is beautiful only when she's loved, he says. Yes, he said that to me once, too. Fanny, do you suppose it's too late for me to say, mother, to now? I'd like to try. Oh, it wouldn't work out, mother. We're leaving for Seattle tonight. Johnny's opening a branch off the stairs. Well, I suppose you wish me luck. Of course, Fanny. Thank you. Goodbye, mother. Good-bye, darling. M-Mandy. M-Mandy. M-Mandy. M-Mandy, don't leave me. Oh, of course, I won't. You're the only one I have left. I'll never leave you. Never. M-Mandy. I'm alone. A few moments ago, M-Mandy telephoned me. She wanted to know if I'd come over and see Fanny. She wanted to know if I'd come over and see Fanny tomorrow. She thought I might cheer her up. And just now the phone rang again. It was Job's Kessington. He said he wanted to say goodbye. He's going to leave New York. But I made him promise to see me first. In the morning. So, dear, what are you doing here at 10 o'clock in the morning? Oh, I thought I'd just drop by and see how you were. Well, it was, uh, nice seeing all your old friends at the party the other night, wasn't it? It was pure vanity, George. What makes you so nervous? Fanny. Fanny, I'm worried. I-I've just seen Job. Job, but you couldn't have Job in New Germany. No, no, he's right here in New York. If he's here, why didn't he let his own daughter know? When you see him, you'll understand. He's been in a concentration camp. You hardly recognize him. They took everything he had, Fanny. Job hasn't got the sense. Job, poor. What do you think I ought to do? To the question of what you ought to do. Of course, you have no obligation. I think you should remember that this house, everything in it, every stitch you own is yours because of his generosity. And it's unfair that I'm so well off and he's so poor. Yes, exactly. Very well. I'll send for the lawyers and see what we can do for them. No, no, no, Fanny. No lawyers. You mean I must see Job myself? Yes. He's downstairs. Downstairs? In this house now? Go down and see him, Fanny. Never. Look at me, Georgie. Just look at what's left of me. But you always seem the same to Job. He still loves you. No, Georgie. He loves only what I look like. Well, that isn't true, and you know it. Georgie, do you think I am mentally deficient? I've seen the others. They all love me, too. At the party the other night, one kept me, and they all recoiled. And I'm not going to add Job to the list. You're so despicable. You didn't know what a really vain creature you'd been fond of all these years. You've never loved anyone but yourself, have you, Fanny? Vent your life in front of a mirror completely unaware of the people around you. Now look, here's a chance for you to do something for someone else. A lot worse things in this world than losing one's beauty. Oh, go down. Fanny, you won't regret it. Go down and face him. Fanny. Well, Joe, I'll go down. Joe. Fanny. You don't know me, do you, Joe? Oh, yes. Yes, I do. You're as beautiful as ever. Do nothing at me, Joe. Oh, no, Fanny. No. You see, I am... Joe! Joe! Joe, are you hurt? I thought I remembered where. Oh, my darling, you can't see. They didn't, and that's it is all my poor darling. My poor dear Joe. And all the time I've been thinking only of myself. Joe, you're safe now. You're home with me. You're safe now. Come, Joe. Here. Here's my arm. Here's your tinge, and it's come home. Oh, welcome home, Mr. Stesson. Thank you, Fanny. Joe, here's your... Fanny, I've never seen you look more beautiful. A woman is beautiful only when she is not. Isn't that right, Joe? Fanny. Nandy, would you call Janie Clarkson? Tell her I can't possibly see her for lunch today. Before the dinner, sir, that's for a present for all. We'd like to make this important announcement. Starting today, your meat-sealer will give you not two but four points and four cents for every pound of used fat you turn in. Fats and oils in most meats, except low-grade, continue the duration. Used fats are urgently needed to speed up reconversion to peacetime goods. I didn't know used fats were needed now that the shooting's over. But they are more than ever. It takes grease and oil to help manufacture that new refrigerator you want, or a car, or a sewing machine, or a washer, or any of thousands of products you've been waiting for. And if there aren't enough fats and oils and greases to go around, some industry has to do with less. Soap, for instance. But soap doesn't use heavy greases like industry, does it? No, but industry gets first claim so it can put men back to work. The more used fats you turn in, the more of the finer oils needed for soap making can be released. Well, if the government thinks it's important enough to give meat double the points for saving fats, I guess I'll start another can tonight with the drippings from the frying pan. And save used fats from every meal, roaster and broiler drippings, meat trimmings and table scrapings, too. Remember, from now on, you get double the points. Four for every pound of used fat you turn in. Think of the extra butter or bacon or meat you can buy with them. Here's William Keely at our microphone. I can assure you it's been a real pleasure to work with two such stars as Betty Davis and Paul Henry. And the result has been a play we'll long remember. It could be back on locks and back with you again, Bill. Again? Have you two worked together before? Oh, yes, Paul. I was dialogue director on the first picture, in which Betty changed from innocent, and you knew roles to... Go ahead and say it. Well, Betty, you know you have brought more misery to humanity than any other star in Hollywood. But only on the screen. You know, Betty, when I was in Paris a few months ago, I stopped at the Paris Canteen. They were hoping for a visit from you. I had planned to go over Bill, but the last minute couldn't. He was very disappointed. They couldn't spare Betty from the Hollywood Canteen. Well, Betty, you and your associates have done a really magnificent job at the Canteen. Well, my associates and I thank you, Bill. Matter of fact, the Canteen closes on Thanksgiving Day. I'll have to find something else to do. Yes, and I hope that something else will include another picture for Warners. As fine as your latest one, the corn is green. Well, as long as we're patting people on the back, Bill, save a pat for Paul. I was just coming to that. I was lucky enough to see a preview of Paul's next picture.