 From Hollywood, California, the Luxe Radio Theatre presents Clorette Colbert and Fred McMurray in Ellis Adams with Walter Connelly. Luxe presents Hollywood. Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the first of the 1938 programs in your Luxe Radio Theatre. I say your Luxe Radio Theatre because it is your loyalty to our products, to Luxe Toilet Soap and Luxe Flakes that makes these productions possible. We want you to know that we sincerely appreciate your enthusiastic support. Tonight we bring you Clorette Colbert, Fred McMurray, Walter Connelly and Shoemaker and Benny Baker in Ellis Adams. We also bring you as special guest George Harrell, most famous photographer of Hollywood stars. Our music is directed by Louis Silvers. And now here's our producer, Hollywood's internationally known director. Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Cecil B. DeMille. Greetings from Hollywood, ladies and gentlemen. The praises of Clorette Colbert have been sung in many ways and by many tongues. But for sheer enthusiasm, nothing I've seen or heard approaches the verbal acrobatics of a foreign critic, printed in a newspaper in Manchuria. The article reached me last week. It's a review written in English of Cleopatra, the last film in which I directed Miss Colbert, and the temptation to read a portion of it is more than I can resist. Our Oriental commentator writes as follows, quote, all that Cleopatra possesses is lavishness not only, but also it contains some fine acting, a speciality in part of glamorous, flagrant and competent Clorette Colbert, who makes the role as Cleopatra every inch an L. Eyeing from artistic points, this is just to get the passing mark to boots. There is no space to hear repetition in these columns that the content of Cleopatra is too popular to insist it. You, the fans, certainly be struck all of a bump if you see the demil for sets of several thrilling scenes and of dancing by the Egyptian girls who swing and swirl, revolving through grand marble halls and on the sumptuous barge to the swish of gully slaves. Unquote. Tonight, Clorette Colbert comes to you without the swish of gully slaves, but I'm certain that her performance in the title role of Alice Adams will, to borrow a phrase, strike you all of a bump, whatever that may mean. We hear Fred McMurray in the role of Arthur Russell, which he played in the screen version. A couple of weeks ago, Fred made the first personal appearance in his motion picture career. It occurred in San Francisco in connection with the opening of his new picture, True Confession. It was a triumphant event, quite a contrast to Fred's last appearance eight years ago in that same theater. Then, as a member of the California Collegians, his performance consisted of impersonating a seal in the Vordeville Act. Today, the man who barked for a fish ranks among Paramount's most popular stars. As Virgil Adams, we're proud to present Mr. Walter Connolly, long distinguished on the legitimate stage as well as in films. His presence here is all the more interesting in that Mr. Connolly is the first prominent performer to have been cast in that much talked-of film, Gone with the Wind. Also from the original cast of Alice Adams is Anne Shoemaker, resuming the part of Mrs. Adams, while Benny Baker of Paramount Studios plays Walter. Our play is taken from the RKO film based on the Pulitzer Prize novel by one of America's most beloved authors, Ruth Tarkington. RKO Studios will shortly release what promises to be outstanding pictures of the new year, bringing up babies starring Catherine Hepburn and Cary Grant. And now, the Lux Radio Theatre opens its season for 1938, presenting Claudette Colbert and Fred McMurray in Alice Adams with Walter Connolly, the bedroom of a small house in New England. In the bed propped up by pillows is Virgil Adams. He's a worn gray-haired man with wistful eyes and an ordinarily friendly smile, but the smile's not an evidence at the moment, for he's gazing distastefully at a bowl of soup on a tray. His wife enters with a saucer of soda crackers. Anything else you want, Virgil? Why, Virgil, you're not eating your soup. No, I want it. Oh, but you must eat it. Well, you got to get your strength back, you know. Oh. Let me fix your pillars, dear. You got to get good and strong so as you can get around and find some really good business to get into. So that's it, hinting at that again. Oh, I'm not doing any hinting, Virgil. But of course, when you get well, you mustn't go back to that old hole again. Old hole, is it? Now let me tell you that Lambs is the best wholesale drug company in the state. Well, I don't care what it is. It's just an old hole, as far as you're concerned. And if you don't owe it to me to look for something different, at least you owe it to your children. Mother. Yes, I'm coming. You look at your daughter. Go into a big party tonight, and she's got a wearer dress that's two years old. Well, how do you expect her to get anywhere? Mother. All right. You just remember what I said, Virgil. I'd like to know how I could forget it. You've been saying that for a... Oh, Mother. What? For heaven's sake, Mother. Can't you wait until Father's up and around before you start to nag him? I don't nag him. Besides, I think, Alice, that I ought to know by this time how to handle your father. Yes, but Mother... Well, then you handle him if you're so good at it. Go on in and see what you can do. Hello, Daddy. Oh, hello, Alice. How are you? Come in. Oh, all right. Oh, poor Daddy. Every time he's better, someone talks to him into getting mad, and he has a relapse. It's a shame. Well, it's kind of funny for a man who's been in business with Lamb and Company as long as I have to hear it called an old hole. That's what your mother calls it. Why, it's a mighty, pleasant place to work. Yes, but Father, it's just that Mother feels that they don't appreciate you there. Well, they've heisted my salary every two years all the time I've worked for them, and they took your brother, Walter, right on as soon as I asked them last year. And old Mr. Lamb has been wonderful to me, holding my job open while I've been sick all this time. Don't you think that looks as if they thought something of me? Of course they do. It's just that it's kind of funny when you think you've done fairly well and the men at the office seem to think so, too. It's kind of funny to have some folks think you're mostly a failure. You're not a failure, Father. You're not. I'm going to talk to Mother. No, no, you'd better not. I didn't mean to start anything. Don't worry, you didn't. Mother, I'm in the kitchen. Oh. Can I help you set the table? If you want. Mother, don't you think we're both a little selfish trying to make Father go out and look for something better? After all, we've got enough. Enough? I suppose you have a limousine to take you to the dance tonight. And I suppose you've only to call the florist and order up some orchids. No, not orchids, Mother. I like violets much better. I picked a whole bouquet in the park. The first of the season. I suppose you picked yourself a new dress, too. My augmented dress looks like you with those flounces you put on it. What's Mildred Palmer going to wear tonight? Oh, I don't know. Her maize, Georgia, probably. Yes, the one she brought from Paris. Yes. Hello. Oh, there's your brother. Mother, are you sure he's going to take me to the dance tonight? Why, of course. Why shouldn't he? No, Walter. He may have one of his mysterious dates downtown. Don't you worry, Alice. You just leave him to me. I'll go speak to him. Hello, Walter. Hello. Isn't supper ready? Now, Walter, there's no hurry. Yes. For me, I got a date. Oh, I'm so glad you remembered Mildred Palmer's dance, dear. What? I've laid out your clothes for you. Listen, I told you a week ago I wasn't going to that old dance. But, Walter... Don't, Walter, me. I'm no society snake. I'm just as liable to go to that Palmer dance as I am to eat a couple of barrels of broken glass. But, Walter, you've got to... Let Alice get somebody else to take her. She ought to be able to get one man, I should think. She tries hard enough. You'll be quiet, dear. She'll hear you. Oh, I haven't got any time to argue. I'll grab a bite to eat now. You can't do this, Walter. You can't. Now, it's more than I can bear to see her disappointed when she's planned it for days. Why, she spent hours in Bellevue Park this afternoon gathering violets to wear because, well, she can't afford to buy a decent bouquet like the other girls. And now... Now, you act this way. Oh, blub. All right. I guess I'll have to go. Oh, that's a good boy, darling. You'll never be sorry. That's what you think. Let me know when dinner's ready, will you? Well, it's all right, dear. Is it? Why, what's the matter? Nothing. But, dear, it's all right. Walter'll be glad to take you. Yes, he sounded like it. That dancer, don't you? Coming. Well, come on. What are you doing up there? Admiring yourself in the mirror? Just a minute. What did you say, Mr. Jones? Oh, well, just two dances. That's all you may have, and that's all for you, too, Mr. Roberts. What? Oh, you naughty boy. Why don't you dance with the other girls? Oh, you naughty, naughty boy. Walter. Why didn't you get one of those make-believe guys you're always talking to to take you tonight instead of dragging me? Ah, you know you just love to escort your little sister. How do I look? Just about the same. Come on, let's... Well, what's it gonna be this time? What do you mean? Well, do we dance again, sit it out again, or walk around the garden again? I'm sorry if you're not enjoying it, Walt. Well, I'll bet you are. Of course I am. Don't give me that. If I wasn't here, you'd be pasted right over there against the wall. The only one who said a word to you on Michael's a doorman. Walter, please. Walter, you say the funniest thing. Oh, cut it out. Nobody's watching you. Look, there's Mildred Palmer. So I said, well, if you must dance, try to step on your own feet. Oh, hello, Mildred. Oh, hello. I just love your party, Mildred. Thank you. Well, anyway, when he came back, there was no use trying to... Oh, she was certainly glad to see you here. I guess she was busy. Yeah. Look, I want to grab a smoke. Can't you flag one of those other guys that take you on for the night? You can't leave me yet, Walter. You just can't... Well, I can't stand here either. My feet are sprouting roots. See you later. Walter! Walter! Oh, please, Walt. Hello, Mrs. Dresser. Are you looking for someone? Yes, my brother. My escort. May I sit down here for a while? Why, yes, but why aren't you dancing? Oh, I have been. I just want a chance to catch my breath. Who's that? Who? That...that tall young man over there. I've never seen him around before. I thought I'd... You ever had some young man? That one is Arthur Russell. Russell? I don't believe... He's Mildred Palmer's cousin, a distant one, I believe. Cousin? Well, that's funny. Mildred is my intimate friend, and she never even mentioned him. That is funny, because they're engaged to be married. Oh. Or almost engaged, anyway. Oh. Yes, Mildred. Come along, Arthur. Alice, this is Mr. Russell. He wants to ask you for this dance. What? Oh, I mean... Are you interested? Well, yes. Oh, yes, I believe I am. Excuse us, please. You're not a very talkative young lady, are you? Usually, yes. Then why not now? Oh, when anyone dances as well as you do, conversation is scarcely necessary, isn't it? That depends on who's talking. Oh, now, really, Mr. Russell, you can't mean me. I guess that's all. Well, I wish we could dance this next together, but I guess we're both all booked up. Where's your next? Do you see him anywhere? Well, my next? Oh, yes, my next. Well, as a matter of fact, I promise to sit out this next one with my aunt. Oh, I'll take you to her. Where is she? No, no, no, no. Don't bother, please. But you could do something. Anything. Would you see if you can find my brother, Walter, for me? He may be in the smoking room. If it isn't too much trouble. No, certainly not. I'll bring him back with me. Thank you very much. Mildred? What, Alice? Where's Arthur? You haven't lost him to that little wallflower, have you? Hardly. She did look pathetic sitting there alone. I really felt sorry for her. I found him. Oh, thank you. Walter, where have you been? Thank you so much, Mr. Arthur. Not at all. It was a pleasure, Miss Adams. Thank you for the dance. Don't ever do that again. Understand? Do what, Walter? Sent somebody to find me. He found me all right, shooting dice with the boys in the cloakroom. Walter, did he see you? Unless he was blind. Oh, Walter. Oh, Walter. Well, what? Nothing. I want to go home. Planning. Planning what to do, and I'm able to go to work again. Well, what are you talking about? You're going back to your old place. It limbs, of course. I... I heard you crying last night after the party. Oh, that was nothing. He just knows that. Never mind, Alice. I know what was the matter. The only matter was I had a silly fit. That did me good, too. How's that? Because I've decided to do something about it. I guess it's my place to do something about it. Your mother's right, Alice. You ought to have as much as any of these girls you go with. Darling, you're sweet. But what I've been thinking, well, I mean, I ought to be something besides just a kind of nobody. I ought to... What? Darling? Well, there's one thing I'd like to do. I'm sure I could do it, too. What's that? I want to go on the stage. I know I could act. What's the matter? Well, I was just reminded of your Aunt Flora and your mother when they were young. They always used to spat about which one would make the best actresses. Sometimes I had to go out in the hall to laugh. Oh, really? But then I expect 90% of the women are sure they'd make mighty fine actresses if they ever got the chance. Yes. Yes, I suppose so. Wait, what's the matter, Alice? Oh, nothing. Nothing. I've got to go downtown now. Now, you just stop worrying, darling. You're going back to land, and everything's going to be all right. You'll see. I hope so. I sure hope so. You want to be a secretary, huh? Yes, I haven't had any experience, but I could learn. Well, we're just an agency. But if anything turns up, I'll let you know. Oh, thank you. This is a coincidence. I've been hoping I'd meet you. Are you thinking of getting a job? What? Oh, heaven, no. No, I've got to hire a new secretary for my father. He's been quite ill, poor man. But now that he's better than going back to business, he'll need a second girl. Oh. May I take you someplace? Well, I was going home. Well, that's fine. I'll take you home. You know, I've been thinking about you ever since Mildred's dance. Goodness. I think I know what you've been thinking. Are you a mind reader? You've been thinking that I'm the sister of a professional gambler, I'm afraid. Then your brother told you, huh? Very original. I thought he was amusing himself with a cloakroom attendance. Yes, that's it. Walter is original. He's a very odd boy. I was afraid you'd misunderstand. He tells wonderful, dark stories, and he'll do anything to get them to talk to him. We think he'll probably write about them some day. He's rather literary. Are you? I... Oh. Oh, I'm just me. You know, you are different. From whom? Are you at your mind reading again? Here. You know, I thought you were this sort of girl the very first moment I saw you. What sort of girl? Didn't Mildred tell you what sort of girl I am when she asked you to dance with me? Oh, she didn't ask you to dance with me. That was my idea. Oh, it... But who did she tell you I was? She just said you were Miss Adams. Miss Adams? Oh, I see. Well, it certainly is unfortunate that I am so different from Mildred. Why unfortunate? Because she's perfect. Why, she's perfectly perfect. Oh, yes, we all fairly adore her. She's like some big noble coal statue way above the rest of us, and she hardly ever does anything mean or treacherous. Yet of all the girls I know, I believe she's played the fewest, really petty tricks. You say Mildred's perfect, but she does do some petty tricks? Oh, men are so funny. Of course girls all do mean things sometimes. My own career is just one long brazen smirch of them. Not really. What, Winston? Oh, the very worst kind. Most people born me, particularly the men in this town, and I'll show it. It's made me a terribly unpopular character. For instance, at the average party, I'd a lot rather find a clever old woman and talk to her than dance with nine-tenths of these non-edities. Well, but you dance as if you like to. Or you dance better than any other girl at the party. Oh, thank you, Mr. Russell. Well, I ought to dance well when I think of my dancing teachers. Oh, God, the fancy instructors. I suppose that's what daughters are farthest for, though, isn't it? To throw money away on them. Did you take it up seriously? No, no, I've never had that particular mania. Oh, but you ought to have seen me when I had stage fever. You know, every girl has a time in her life she's positive. She's divinely talented as an actress. Yes, I used to play Juliet all alone in my room. Daddy used to make such fun of me. Oh, thank heaven, I was only 15. I was all over it by the next year. Well, here's our house. Oh. It's a queer little place, isn't it? But my father's so attached to what the family have about giving up hope of getting him to build a real house, Father, he doesn't mind our being extravagant about anything else, but he won't let us alter one single thing about his precious little old house. Well, uh, and here. Hey, uh, couldn't I come in for a little while? Oh, no, not now. You can come. When? Almost any time. You can come in the evening if you like. Soon? As soon as you like. Thank you. I'll make it very soon. Goodbye. Goodbye. Sorry, Claudette Colbert and Fred McMurray with Walter Connolly. But now, in this brief intermission, we would like you to listen in with us on a home in Beverly Hills where a wedding is underway. Jane, a popular debutante, is going to be married, and her bridesmaids are gathered together waiting to start to the church. Oh, I hope I can't be prepared. Who do you think will be next? I wonder how Bob is bearing up. Well, it was a good race while it lasted. It certainly was close. And I must say that rival of hers put up a good fight. Really, though. If you couldn't tell from where I sat, who was winning? I didn't know it was Jane until I saw her picture in the announcement in the morning paper. Well, I knew all along it would be Jane. Myra's a land but cosmetic skin. Well, that never struck a romantic chord in any man's heart. You're right. Myra just couldn't compete with Jane's lovely skin. A knockout complexion like hers gets the man every time. The little bride's maid is right. Lovely skin wins out every time. What a pity some women don't realize it. Especially when it's so easy to keep complexions clear and smooth with lux toilet soap. Its active lather removes dust and dirt, stale rouge and powder thoroughly. It's when pores become choked that those tiny blemishes and enlarged pores appear. Cosmetic skin develops. Nine out of ten screen stars use lux toilet soap to protect their complexions. And now Mr. DeMille sets the scene for the next act of our play. Alice Adams starring Claudette Colbert and Fred McMurray with Walter Connolly continues. Three weeks have gone by. To Alice's amazement, Arthur Russell has paid her several visits. And basking in the sun of his attention, the little wall flower is beginning to blossom. He's expected again this evening. In the living room of the shabby little house, Mrs. Adams is off once more on her favorite topic. It's money, that's all. If you could dress like the other girls dress Arthur Russell could see you then. Well, there's no telling what might happen. I've tried to make your father understand that. Mother, what could father do at his age? Well, he could do what I've been wanting him to do for 20 years. Now, he's forbidden me to speak of it, Alice, but you may as well know. Your father has a secret formula for making the best glue in the world. The best what? Glue. For sticking things together. He and another man invented it years ago when your father first went to work at Lamb's. The other man's dead now, and that formula belongs to your father. At least it belongs to him as much as anybody else. Well, even if it does, what good is it? Can he sell it? No. But he could start up a factory and make the glue and sell that. Oh, nonsense, Mother. Why would take more money than father ever sought to sell the factory? Well, maybe it wouldn't. Maybe it wouldn't. And I'm going to speak to him just the same. I love you that you can't do. Now, just a minute. What are you driving at? You know what I'm driving at. That glue formula. So that's it. Bang, bang, bang. You wouldn't care if your child dried up into a miserable old maid. Or she's still young. She has a chance for happiness. If only she had a father who had gumption enough to be a man. Be a dirty dog, you mean? That glue formula belongs to you as much as it does to anybody. It belongs to J.A. Lamb. He paid us all the time we were working on it. It'd be like stealing, and you know it. And what's he stolen from you? Twenty years ago, he promised to do something with that formula to take you into partnership with him. And has he done it? Has he? You've broken your word never to speak to that of me again. So what do I care for my word? Do you suppose I'll let my word keep me from struggling for a little happiness for my children? Well, I'll struggle for that till I die. Your daughter's sitting out there on the porch right now with a young man who's just asked her to go to Henrietta's party with him. How do you know? I heard him. And do you know what she said? She said no. Because she had to stay close to home because you were sick. But what she meant was, I can't go because I haven't been invited, because I haven't any clothes, because we're poor, poor. Mother, Daddy, for heaven's sake, what's the matter? Alice, can you get her out of here? Oh, Daddy, please, Mother. Wait. Alice, come here. She says you have a mean life. Is that right? I know, Father. Could you hear a life? Look at me, Alice. Things like this Henrietta Lamb party now. Is that so hard to bear? No, no, Father. You hear her? She's lying. She's afraid to hurt you. All right, all right. I'll open the glue factory. If it takes every penny we have, I'll open it. But heaven help us if it doesn't pay, that's all. Now get out of here. Both of you, get out of here. Oh, is it this one out, Alice? Oh, yes, please. Oh, it was so nice of you to bring me here. I think public dances are so much more interesting than those stodgy private affairs, don't you? Of course they are. What are you thinking of? I don't know. I think I was being sort of... sadly happy just then. Sadly happy? Don't you know? Only children can be just happily happy. I think when we get older, our happiest moments are like this one. It's like that music. Oh, so sweet, but so sad. But what makes it sad for you? I don't know. Perhaps the kind of useless foreboding I seem to have pretty often. I'm afraid I'll miss these summer evenings with you when they're over. Do they have to be over? Oh, everything's over sometime, isn't it? Why should they be? Oh, good heaven. There's a laconic eloquent. Only the proposal in a single word. What? Well, I didn't, I mean... I'm not in mind. I shall hold you to it. No, something will interfere. Somebody will, I mean. People talk about one another fearfully in this town. Oh, no, I... And they don't stop at the truth. They make up things. Yes, they really do. Well, what difference does it all make? It's just that I'd rather they didn't make up things about me to you. I'd know they weren't true. Oh, but you must be careful not to mix up the girl you might hear somebody talking about. With the me, I honestly try to make you see. If you do, all this will be spoiled. It's so easy to spoil anything that's pleasant. We won't let that happen. Wouldn't it be pleasant if two people could just keep themselves to themselves? I mean, if they could manage to be friends without people talking about them. Well, we've done pretty well about that so far. And if you want our summer evenings to be over, you'll have to drive me away yourself. Nobody else could? No. I won't. I couldn't help it. Did you mind? Oh, no. Well, I mean... Well, no. Going out with Mr. Russell again tonight. As soon as I finish the dishes. Oh, that's nice. Do you know, Alice, I think it's time your father and I showed some interest in Mr. Russell. Why, I actually don't believe he's ever been inside the house. No, he hasn't. We've always sat out on the porch. It's so much nicer. Well, I was thinking we could hardly put off asking him to dinner or something much longer. Oh, Mother Mustry. Well, don't you see? It looks a queer not to do something. It looks a kind of poverty stricken. Very well. I'll ask him if you think I've got to. We can get that colored girl in, Melina Burns, and she can serve for us. You can get flowers for the table and put some in the living room, and we'll have a nice dinner. Something real stylish. Oh, please, Mother. Can't... Can't we just wait for a while? But, Alice, why should we? Unless you don't want Mr. Russell to meet your father and mother. Oh, no. No, it isn't that only... Oh, what's the use? Well, Alice, what do you mean? I don't know. He's so honestly what he is. Just simple and good and intelligent. I feel like a tricky mess beside him. I don't see why he likes me. Sometimes I'm afraid he wouldn't if he really knew me. Darling, he'd just worship you. I know he would. Oh, Mother, you're sweet. You're certainly a stranger around here these days. I'm sorry, Melod. I've been pretty busy. You'll stay for dinner, Arthur. Well, I'd like to, Aunt Mads, but I have a dinner engagement already. Oh, I see. Oh, what's the difference? Look, Arthur, I've just been making up a list of guests for my garden party. I wonder if I ought to invite Alice Adams. Huh? You remember her. You danced with her. Here. Oh, uh... Oh, yes. A rather too conspicuous young woman, the Adams girl. I wonder if what they're saying about her father is true. I imagine it must be. Uh, what is it? Oh, nothing much. Just that I heard that this virgin Adams had stolen some kind of blue formula from Mr. Len. Stolen it? Yes. It's quite upset Mr. Lamb, too. Mr. Adams has been his clerk for over 25 years, and Mr. Lamb has been carrying him and his son Walter along, even though they've been dead weight to the firm. Then to show his gratitude, Mr. Adams walked off with a blue formula. Oh, well, I suppose you have to expect those things from people like the Adams. I don't think I'll ask her mother. I wouldn't if I were you, a pushing sort of girl, a very pushing little person. Oh, but I'm afraid all this is rather boring to offer. What? Oh, I beg your pardon. I was just thinking about something. Soon as the doorbell rings, you answer it. Now that'll be Mr. Russell. You take his hat and show him in the living room. Yes, ma'am. And then you go right out in the kitchen and you bring in the hors d'oeuvres. The what, Ms. Adams? The hors d'oeuvres. Yes, ma'am. And, Melina, you remember to have them. Mother! Oh, my goodness. Yes, dear. Coming, dear. What's the matter? Mother, it's almost seven. You'll be here soon. Well, I know, dear, but everything's ready. And, Mother, for heaven's sake, will you ask Melina to take the chewing gum out of her mouth before she serves? Yes, dear. I'll tell her about it right now. Alice, will you fix this collar for me? I never could get into a boiled shirt. Oh, Daddy, it's all wilted already. Well, I can't help it. It's hot tonight. Now, now, stand still. Hey, what's that smell? Is it fashionable to have cabbage for company dinner? That isn't cabbage. It's Brussels sprouts. What are they? Oh, there's the bell. Melina? Melina! Now where is she? What was that? I don't know. It sounded like someone... Mother! Mother! Oh, dear! Mother! It's all right, dear. Everything's all right. What was that noise? Well, Melina fell down the cellar step. Oh. But she's all right, dear. I'll answer it myself. No, dear. No, I'll go down. Now, you hurry down, Virgil. Good evening. Oh, do come right in, Mr. Russell. I'm Mrs. Adams. And I'm so glad to receive you informally this way in our own little home. Thank you. I'm afraid you'll think it's almost too informal my coming to the door. But, unfortunately, our maid just had a little accident. Sit down, Mr. Russell. Thank you. It's been quite warm today, hasn't it? Well, yes. The only person I know who doesn't mind the heat, the way other people do, is Alice. But then she's so amiable, she never minds anything. It's just her character. I think character is the most important thing in the world after all, don't you, Mr. Russell? Oh, yes, Mrs. Adams. Why? Here's Alice now. Mother, do you sit for... Oh, Mr. Russell, how do you do? Hello, Alice. Oh, how terrible of me to be so late coming down. Oh, come in, Father. This is my father, Mr. Russell. Well, how do you do, Mr. Adams? Oh, how are you? Well, I guess dinner's more than ready. We'd better go sit down. No, no, not yet, Virgil. All right? What's that? Oh, it's, uh, it's Melina. She had a little accident before. Come in, Melina. Does anybody want some of these here things? What's these? Sandwiches? The four dinner? I do have some of these out there, Mr. Russell. Thank you. Father, you'll have some? All right, I'll try anything once. Oh, Father. Oh, it's too bad we can't offer you what ought to go with this, Mr. Russell. But we'd have to have any liquor in the house. Father's a teetotaler. What's the matter? Supper's ready. Come and get it. Oh, dinner. Come along, Mr. Russell. Thank you. I hope you won't hate us for making you dine with us in such fearful weather. I'm nearly dying of the heat myself, so you have a fellow sufferer if that pleases you. Will you sit there, Mr. Russell? Thank you. Where's Walter? Oh, poor Walter. He's probably been delayed at the office. Really, Father, you shouldn't permit him to work so hard, particularly in weather like this. But that boy's so ambitious, I suppose you simply can't stop him. Who, Walter? Oh, yes. You mean our Walter? I never thought that. I do have some bread, Mr. Russell. Thank you. Melina, will you please take this soup away? It's much too warm for soup this evening. I'm really surprised you even thought of it. Yes, ma'am, I was too. But Miss Adam, you can take mine too, please. Yes, ma'am. How unfortunate we didn't have something iced and jellied instead. I'm afraid we let the servants do too much as they like, Mother. Perhaps we should get new ones. Servants are such a problem for us, Mr. Russell. Is that so? Do you want some of this, Miss Adam? Oh, thank you, Melina. Do you want some, Miss Adam? What is it? Brussels sprouts, dear. Oh, so these are Brussels sprouts, eh? Well, they certainly smell up the house. Oh, my. Oh, it is warm, isn't it? Oh, what a funny thing weather is. Now, yesterday it was cool. The angels have shot at it. Will you have some more coffee, Mr. Russell? Thank you. So what's happened to the ice cream, Alice? It's all soupy. You know, Father simply must have a heavy meal in the evening. He worked so hard in his terrible old factory. In fact, oh, terrible new factory, I should say. And he needs a lot of food to keep his strains up. I don't see why business then can't leave most of the detail to their secretaries. Secretaries, Alice? You know, I may be needing one of them soon. Never thought I'd one day be having one of my own. So it gives the man a feeling of importance, don't it? Won't you have some more coffee, Mr. Russell? I just had some, thank you. Oh, yes, of course. Hey, Pop, what's that? Wait, wait, it's Walter. Come in. You remember, Mr. Russell? No, I said... Come here, Pop. I've got to speak to you. Pardon me. I guess my boy wants to see me. Pardon me, Mr. Russell. Oh, now, what was all that, I wonder? Oh, Walter's such a funny boy. He's so abrupt and unexpected. But of course you know that about him, Mr. Russell. I suppose all talented people are a bit peculiar. It's part of their charm, really. Yeah, yeah, Pop, I just got to have that dough. Now, don't say that, Pop. I'll tell you I ain't glad. Perhaps I'd better go and see if Walter's had his dinner. You'll excuse me, won't you? Certainly. Well, we seem to be left alone. Shall we go out on the porch? If you want. Please sit down. Thank you. Oh, dear, cheer up. Your fearful duty's almost done. You can run home as soon as you want to. What? That's what you're dying to do. Well, not at all. You're upset about that, don't you? Well, not at all. What's the matter, little boy? Tell Alice. Nothing, nothing's a matter. Perhaps one is rather affected by such weather as this. They make one little more quiet than usual. Maybe it's this ugly little house. Maybe it's the furniture or Mother's Valver that upset you. Or was it Mother herself or Father? Nothing upset me. You say that because you're too kind or too conscientious or too embarrassed or anyhow too something to tell me. I wonder if they haven't done it after all. I don't understand. I wonder who has been talking about me to you after all. Isn't that it? Well, not at all. Oh, please don't say not at all again. You're not good at deceiving. I'm not deceiving that. No, never mind. Do you remember saying that nothing anybody else could do would ever keep you from coming here? But if you left me, it would be because I drove you away myself. Yes, it was true. But I haven't driven you away. And you've gone. I don't know what you mean. Do you know what? I have the strangest feeling. I feel as if I'm going to be with you only about five minutes smaller in all the rest of my life. Well, of course I'm coming to see you often. No. I've never had a feeling like this before. It's just so that's all. You're never coming here again. Why, it's finished, isn't it? Waits all over, isn't it? Yes. I'm afraid you're awfully tired and nervous. I really ought to be going. Yes, of course you are. There's nothing else for you to do. When anything is spoiled, people can't do anything else but run away from it. Goodbye. Well, at least we'll only say good night. What do you mean? Now, now, there's no use wailing about it. I couldn't help it. I can't. You don't look so startled, Mr. Russell. We have lots of little arguments in this house. It all comes under the heading of a happy family life. Alice, Alice, listen. Oh, please go, please. Don't make it any worse than it is. You know what I am. You know that everything I've said and everything I've done has been a lie. I'm just nothing, nobody. I don't blame you for running away. I don't blame you. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System. In this intermission, before raising the curtain on the third act of Alice Adams, we hear from George Hurrell. Every picture studio has its own staff of portrait photographers. But when they want really exceptional portraits, they call in Hurrell. They've come to him in the past few weeks alone from MGM, Paramount, Warner Brothers, 20th Century Fox, and Selznick International. In Hollywood, they say that Hurrell is to a portrait camera what Rembrandt was to paint and canvas. Suppose Mr. Hurrell, someone like the Alice Adams of our play, walks into your studio for a sitting. A girl who's a wallflower. What can you do to help such a girl? Well, Mr. DeMille, let's forget the camera for a moment and get into a little elementary psychology. The difference between a wallflower and a girl who's always surrounded by admirers is a matter of personality. One is neutral, uninteresting. The other is vibrant, attractive. That's not news to anyone, but what may be news is the fact that a good photograph can take the wallflower type of girl and definitely bring out what she herself has failed to discover. It can make that neutral personality glamorous, alluring, beautiful. Very nice words, George, but exactly how's this done? Well, to begin with, Mr. DeMille, I'd spend a lot of time with an Alice Adams type of girl before placing her nearer camera. I'd try to show her how to dress properly and attractively. How to wear her hair, how to walk, and how to stand. Little things that create grace and charm. I can see that you who take pictures face the same problem as we who make pictures. That's right, Mr. DeMille. And the similarity continues. Most of our picture stars are not technically perfect. Some will have a square jaw or a cleft chin or any one of a dozen minor imperfections. But instead of denying them, they do just the opposite. To proper makeup, clothes, and hairdress, they turn those little flaws into definite assets that spell individuality. In such a group, I'd place your own new star, Francesca Gall. Catherine Hepburn, Betty Davis, Marion Hopkins. And there are only a few. It's character, you see, that makes both a good portrait and a movie star. Character is intangible, but through the skillful use of three things available to every photographer, you can definitely make every portrait an interesting and compelling character study. Those three things are careful lighting, composition, and emphasis on skin texture. Skin that is properly photographed gives a lifelike effect that nothing else can duplicate. So you see, complexion is part of my business. I've asked many questions about it, and I can safely say that luck soap is by far the favorite method used by Hollywood stars to keep their complexions in perfect condition. And I can recommend it to our listeners because I've had close contact with its splendid results during the 10 years I've been in Hollywood. Now, we're grateful for your advice, George, but after all, you must have certain little tricks all your own that make your picture so outstanding. Why don't you break down and tell us a couple of Harrell camera secrets? Well, a photographer must learn exactly when to snap the button that takes the picture. He shouldn't be afraid to spend hours in experiment, and on the other hand, if he gets what he wants quickly, he should have enough confidence in himself to stop. I once took 72 pictures of Wallace Breary in 45 minutes. I've also found that music can be very helpful in establishing mood, again proving the importance of psychology. I want to grab playing all the time during sitting and during the time taking a portrait. The music will range from hot jazz to a Beethoven symphony. Whatever happens to best fit the individual and bring out a quality that otherwise might not register. Then I'll do some really crazy things. I'll scream, whisper, kick a chair over, dance, follow my face, almost anything to make the face of my subject come across with the exact expression I want. But I never let go of the bulb that snaps the picture. There's the method in my madness, and there you have it. If you don't mind making a fool of yourself, you're up to get some pretty good results. Thank you. Thank you, gentlemen. Good night. Back to Claudette Colbert, Fred McMurray, and Walter Connolly and Alice Adams. It's the same evening, just a few minutes later, leaving Arthur on the porch. Alice ran back into the house, to the living room where the family argument is still raging. Walter, Walter, how could you do it? I asked Dad for the money last week, but he wouldn't give it to me. Give it to you? Where was I going to get it? Father, Mother, what's the matter? What's happened? Walter shorted his accounts down at Lamb. He took $150. $150? Why? What for? Well, a guy, a friend of mine, he got in a jam, and he said he'd pay me back before the end of the month, but he didn't, and the auditor's already started on the books down at the office. Oh, Walter, you can't go to jail. You can't. Wait, Mother, Mother, don't be so upset. Perhaps Mr. Lamb won't prosecute. Him not prosecute? Well, that's just what he's been waiting for all the time. He thinks I cheated him. He was just letting Walter walk right into a trap. But if you raise the money and paid it back? Oh, I'll pay him back all right. Every cent. Every last penny. I can raise it. I'll put a loan on my factory. Well, I'm sorry, Dad. Don't you talk to me, you little idiot. No, don't, Virgil. Poor Virgil. Poor Walter. And to have this come on the night of your sister's dinner, oh, poor poor her. Don't say poor, Alice. I'm all right. Oh, no, Mother Hush. Please don't, dear. The police. What? Quiet. Shh. I'll answer it. Now, you stay right here, all of you, no matter what it is. I'll take care of this myself. Who is it? This is Jay Lamb. Mr. Lamb? Hello, Mr. Lamb. Well, can I come in? Yes, yes, sure. Come in. I want to talk to you. Yes. Yes, me too. Sit down. I'll stand, thank you. I wouldn't even have set foot in this house except that I wanted to tell you to your face just how I felt. Now, fine family you turned out to be after all these years. I'll pay you back every cent Walter took, Mr. Lamb, just as soon as I can get the money. I was just going down now to try and raise a loan on... on my glue works. Your glue works? I always thought you had to show people some business prospects to raise a loan. Naturally. Well, you may find that just a little difficult, especially now that I'm starting a glue work for my own. What's that? Yes, indeed. And very convenient to your place too. The fact is it's right across the street, twice as big and twice as modern. You, you, you ruin me. Well, what did you expect me to do, Virgil Adams? Let you walk off with that formula like swollen a pet of butter? I know what you thought. You said to yourself, here's this old fool, J.A. Lamb. He's in his second childhood and I can put this thing over on him. I did not. I worked years on that formula. It was just as much mine as yours. What's that? And anyway, a lot you know about my feelings and what I said to myself. But there's one thing I want to say to you right now. I don't feel mean anymore about what I've done because there's a meaner man in the world than I am. And that man is you, Mr. Lamb. You've spiked my business all right. Now I can't even raise the money to keep my son out of the penitentiary. That's what you wanted, wasn't it? Are you accusing me of a... Look at me. Look at me. I worked all my life for you and what I did when I quit didn't make two cents worth a difference in your life. And it looks like it'd mean all the difference in the world to my family. You think I did you a bad turn and now you've got me ruined for it and my family ruined. And if anybody had told me last year that I'd have said such a thing, I'd have called him a dang liar. But I do say it, Mr. Lamb. I do say it. You're a doggone mean man. Father, stop, please. You'd be sick again. No, I won't. I gotta tell him what I think. No, Father, please. Go upstairs, darling. Go on. Let me go. Let me go. Let me go. It's all right. He's got me ruined and all of us ruined. If it had him, it serves you right. He's a doggone mean man. Now look here, you do... Mr. Lamb, please. Please, just a moment. I don't want you to leave thinking too badly of Father. He couldn't have meant what he said just now. I guess he's so overwrought that he just lost his head. Overwrought? Well, I shouldn't wonder that dang old fool. Yes. I guess he is an old fool. What's that? For listening to us. Mother and me. Oh, it's all my fault. This whole terrible mess. All my fault. Now look here, young woman. I guess maybe you're a bit overwrought yourself. No, I'm not. I'm all right. I'm just talking the truth for once. What are you talking about? You see, Mr. Lamb, Mother was always after Father and asked him to make more money for me so that I could have lovely things like other girls. Well, like your granddaughter, Henrietta, Mr. Lamb. I guess parents will make any sacrifice to see their children happy. And when Father saw how unhappy I was, he did what he did. Oh, he always wanted to go back to work for you. I guess he almost worshipped you, Mr. Lamb. And if he had, he could have kept an eye on Walter. And that's another thing, Mr. Lamb. Walter didn't steal that money. He just borrowed it. Oh, he did? Yes. To help a friend who was in trouble. Well, I guess... Oh, Mr. Lamb, if you'll give us just a little time, I'll get a job and pay you back what Walter owes you. Really, I will. I know I haven't had much experience, but I can do things. I was good at arithmetic and English in school. I won a prize in English once. And I'd make a good secretary for someone. I'm much more sensible about things now. And if you'll only give us a little time, will you, Mr. Lamb? Please. Alice, that father of yours, he did me an injustice tonight. I never meant to hurt nobody, and he knows it. Of course he does. Well, I... Well... I guess maybe I've been in the wrong too. I lost my head. I never knew that glue formula meant so much to him. I wouldn't hurt nobody, Alice, and I never even thought of prosecuting Walter. I know. Your father and I, we've been together for a long time. Well... Well, maybe we can come to some sort of an arrangement about the glue works. Yes, maybe a sort of a partnership. Oh, Mr. Lamb. Well, can I see him now? Oh, yes, of course you can. And thank you so much. What are you doing down here in the doll? Nothing. Your father and Mr. Lamb just fixed everything, Alice. I know I'm glad. Everything will be all right now, Wotan. Everything except Alice. What about Mr. Russell? Oh, he left before anything happened. Everything's all right. Oh, no, it isn't. Oh, my poor baby. He's gone, isn't he? It doesn't matter. And that dinner? Oh, Alice, can you ever forgive your poor mother? Mother, there's nothing to forgive, darling. It's just the way things are. You know, it's all so clear to me now. You... You do thus and so, and you tell yourself, now, seeing me do thus and so, people will naturally think this and that. In the end, they don't. They think something else. Usually just what you don't want them to. I suppose about the only good in pretending is the fun we get out of fooling ourselves is that we fool somebody else. Alice, I don't know what... No, no, you run out of bed now, darling. I'm going to sit out on the porch for a while. All right, dear. Good night, Alice. Good night, Mother. You came back? I didn't go. I've been out here all the time. Why? I was waiting for you. I thought, oh, then you were here with... Yes, I heard everything, and what's more... You heard? Awesome. Let me finish. I heard a great deal this afternoon, too, at Mildred's. So they did talk about me? Yes, and it's all over my eyes to one thing. I love you, Alice. What? Didn't you hear me? I love you. You love me? You love me? Yes, darling. Oh... Gee, you're weird. But our stars return now for a brief reunion. I won't be surprised if later this month I hear that the French people have declared a national holiday. For Claudette Colbert is about to return to their shores. Taking her first real vacation in years, she leaves this week for a few months abroad. And so, Claudette, je vous souhaite un bon voyage, sans mal de mer. Pretty good, eh? That's marvelous. Well, in case there's any doubt in your mind, I wish you a pleasant trip without seasickness. My intentions are better than my French. Thank you very much, DB. I haven't been back for eight years, so you see, I'm terribly excited about it. And it's not only a vacation, I'm going to school. I'm going straight to the Hans Schneider school in the Tyrolian Alps and learn how to ski. After that, if I'm still able to stand on my feet, I'm going to Paris and really have some fun. Now, I also want to thank the people who make Lux Topen give us this program. You know, in pictures, one has to be especially careful about appearance. I know I am, and that's why I'm always glad to tell you that I think Lux Topes is about the most dependable complexion care in the world. It's so easy to use, and it does keep the complexion smooth and clear. Thank you again, CB, and good night. Good night, Claudette. Among the questions most frequently asked about Hollywood is what do the stars do in their spare time with two such typical citizens as Fred McMurray and Walter Connelly to assist in the proceedings, perhaps we can find a few answers now. Fred, I suppose you're still clinging to the saxophone. Well, no, CB, I'm afraid the old horn is getting a little rusty these days. I've been following in your footsteps lately and I've sort of taken a fancy for target shooting. In fact, I built a shooting gallery in the base of my house. It's a little hard on the neighbor's ears, but... Yes, but of the two noises, I dare say they prefer the bullets to the bullets. Probably. They call me Three Gun McMurray. Why Three Gun? The best shots in history seem satisfied with the title Two Gun. Well, you see, two guns aren't enough. I usually have to empty three before I hit the target. What about you, Walter? What do you do to pass the time? Well, for a couple of weeks, Fred, I'll be engaged in the most fascinating occupation in the world, doing nothing. I've just completed one picture and the next one isn't quite ready. No lines to memorize, no makeup to worry about, no getting up at six o'clock in the morning. Just plain unadulterated, delicious indolence. Apart from a rather regular attendance at Santa Anita Track trying to pick the winners. But a bit more seriously, I've been startled and pleased too to see what some of our more exemplary Hollywood personalities do with their spare time and money. Victor McLaughlin is probably just as busy off the screen as he is on. He has a sports stadium, he drills and manages a troop of 2,000 horsemen, and sponsors a championship group of motorcycle riders. Raydrian, the designer, spends his leisure in an antique shop. Eddie Cantor owns a couple of gift stores. Charles Bickford has an interest in the beauty parlor. Charlie Ruggles is a dog fan, and Reginald Denny designs and markets model airplanes. And Fernand Gave is probably one of the world's outstanding miniature fans. He likes French history and has made over a thousand miniature hats copied from old patterns, and has also molded some 15,000 toy soldiers. Accurate replicas of old French regiments. And of course, Adolf Mange was noted for his stamp collection and a vorac for a walnut grove, and Jean Hersholt for his first editions. The tendency now is to divide their time between the racetrack and the soundtrack. With stars like Pat O'Brien, Bing Crosby, Barbara Stanmick, and Joey Brown, all teaching their horses to look well in a photo finish. Don't forget Walter C.B., he's supporting a couple of bank tales himself. And they're just about eating me out of hay and oats, too. But they'll both get a chance to prove how much they love me a little later this season when they started San Anita. In the meantime, Fred, if you and Mr. DeMille happen to miss the target and shoot a bunny, don't forget I'm always in the market for a good rabbit's foot. Good night. Well, good night, C.B. Good night, Fred. Good night, Walter. Thank you, Miss Colbert, Mr. McMurray, and Mr. Palmer. Ladies and gentlemen, this is your announcer, Melville Rood. Don't miss the announcement of next week's stars and play, which Mr. DeMille brings you in a moment. In tonight's cast were Winiford Harris as Mrs. Palmer, Lou Merrill as Mr. Lamb, Georgette Spellman as Mildred Palmer, Grace Kern as Ella, Verna Felton as Mrs. Dresser, and Frank Nelson as an employment agent. Miss Colbert will be seen next in the Paramount picture, Bluebeard's eighth wife. Benny Baker's current film is Holdham Navy. Walter Connolly appeared through courtesy of Columbia Pictures. His new film is Penitentiary. Lewis Silver's is from 20th Century Fox, where he was in charge of music for love and hisses. And now, here's Mr. DeMille. One of the most magnificent singers in modern times comes to the Lux Radio Theatre next Monday night. From the concert stage in opera, on the radio, and in motion pictures, her voice has thrilled the world. The voice of Grace Moore. Your endless requests bring her back to this stage. This time in a grand comedy which met with great favor on stage and screen. Enter Madame. Our leading man will be Melvin Douglas. Seen in several of the year's best pictures, most recently in Grace Moore's new film, and as a special guest, Mr. Edward Arnold. Our sponsors, the makers of Lux Toilets Hope, join me in inviting you to be with us again next Monday night when the Lux Radio Theatre presents Grace Moore and Melvin Douglas in Enter Madame with Edward Arnold as the evening's added personality. This is Cecil B. DeMille saying goodnight to you from Hollywood. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System.