 Lux presents Hollywood the Lux Radio Theatre brings you Norma Shearer, Walter Pigeon and Adolf Marjou in the last of Mrs. James. Ladies and gentlemen, your producer, Mr. Cecil D. DeMille. Greetings from Hollywood ladies and gentlemen. I'm glad to tell you that tonight's Lux Radio broadcast, as well as those in weeks to come, will be heard by American armed forces throughout the world by shortwave and other special facilities. I've noticed you're a prestigious man, but I haven't been walking under any ladders lately either. In fact, I've got my fingers crossed right now because every time Norma Shearer has been scheduled to appear at this microphone for the last six years, something has happened to cancel the date, but all things come to him who waits if he waits long enough. So this week we borrowed Norma from the cast of the Metro-Goldman Mayor picture, her cardboard lover, along with Walter Pigeon from the same studios, Mrs. Miniver. And if nothing happens between now and curtain time, you'll hear them starring with Adolf Marjou in the last of Mrs. Cheney. Our play packed in the customers for a solid season on Broadway and Hollywood on two different occasions, found material for a hit in this brilliant comedy. Norma Shearer starred in one of the picture versions herself. Tonight, as Mrs. Cheney, she had a part made to order for an actress of beauty, wit, and charm. And that, of course, is Norma Shearer. For this hour each week, we like to think that we're helping a whole nation forget the problems of the moment and relax in another world, the world of the theater, to laugh a little, to thrill to find drama, and tomorrow to return to the task at hand with new determination. That's the job of this Lux Radio Theater, which Lux Toilet soap brings you each Monday night. We're all hurrying along these days because we all have something important to do. If Americans had less native stamina, we might see smiles disappearing, but not here. We thrive on hard work. The men are more cheerful and the ladies, unless my eyes deceive me, look lovelier than ever. And as most of you know, Lux Toilet soap helps to put that smiling complexion on the situation. Here's the curtain going up now for act one of the last of Mrs. Cheney, starring Norma Shearer as Mrs. Cheney, Walter Pigeon as Lord Arthur Dilling, and Adolf Mongeau as Charles. A few short years ago, when the oceans of the world were calm and untroubled, a luxury liner left its birth in New York Harbor and turned its mighty prow to the open sea. As usual on the first day out, there was great speculation among the passengers about the identity of their shipmates. As usual, there was one person who stole the lion's share of the comment. She was young, lovely, beautiful, and so far as the rest of the ship was concerned, nameless. Did you ring for me, sir? Yes. Come in, Stuart. I'd like some information about a passenger. Yes, sir. What is the passenger's name, sir? That's what I want you to tell me. Will you describe the passenger, sir? Well, now let me see. She's rather beautiful, I'd say, and she's sort of... Oh, you don't mean the lady with that... Well, that looks her, and she has a wife of... Well, it's Robert. That's the woman. Who is she? Her name is Cheney. Mrs. Fai Cheney. Mrs. Sorry, sir. Oh, I'm sorry, too. Go on, Stuart. What else do you wish to know, sir? Oh, just break down, Stuart, here. Well, a pound won't help you to remember. Oh, thank you, sir. She's American, a widow traveling alone, has seven or eight trunks, no pets. She has it to look sweet, comes from Minneapolis, Minnesota, and your over-fifth gentleman has asked about her in the last two hours. You've quite a fun of information. And what do you know about me? You, sir, are Lord Arthur Dilling, first son of the Earl traveling to England with a party of friends. Good. You were recently sued for preacher promise by a young lady you met on the Fifth Avenue bus. That's enough. I don't want to know too much about myself. Good morning, Mrs. Cheney, I believe. Mrs. Fai Cheney? Yes. Why do you ask? I just wanted to be sure. It seems to me... No, we haven't. Haven't what? We've never met. I've never seen you before in my life. And if you don't leave me alone, Lord Dilling, I'll have to call the Stuart. At least you know my name. May I call you Faye? Please don't. Oh, lovely morning, though, isn't it? I'm trying to enjoy it. Stuart? Yes, madam. Will you please... Oh, Stuart, will you be good enough to get us a couple of deck chairs? Right away. Fine. You behave like this with every woman you meet, or do you only reserve it for those you try to pick up? I'm glad you asked me that question. You know, I was afraid you were going to snub me. I believe I have met you after all. You're that well-known type of man who thinks he can force his company on any woman who happens to attract him. I'm sorry. I suppose I owe you an apology. You see, I merely did it to win a bet. Do you know Willie Winton? Oh, no, no, of course you don't. But Willie bet me 30 pounds you wouldn't dine at our table tonight. That, of course, is a lie. Of course. But will you? No, thanks. I've been warned about you, Lord Dilling. Have my friends been talking again? No, the newspapers. Oh, well, there you are, Arthur. Lovely morning. Oh, hello. I beg your pardon, but you know this young man? Well, yes, of course. Then will you be good enough to tell him to leave me alone? Oh, I say, Arthur, again. Again, old man. Sorry. May I see you to your stateroom, madam? Well, I'm not that gross, but I would like a walk around the deck. Oh, of course. I do hope Arthur wasn't annoying. Oh, but he was. Oh, I'm frightfully sorry. You see, he's a sort of vague relation to mine, and I feel rather responsible. Oh, I shouldn't. You mustn't judge all of us by Arthur. We're rather nice, really. I'm sure you are. Perhaps you dine at our table tonight and discover us for yourself. Thank you. I'd be delighted, but hold your friend. I think it's rather sudden. Oh, no, no, no. I'll simply introduce you as Miss, uh, Miss. Mrs. Cheney. Mrs. Cheney, whom I met in, uh... Minnesotor. Uh, Minnesotor? Oh, precisely. Why not? I think you're very kind, Mr. Um... Francis Kelt. Oh, Lord Francis Kelt? Oh, yes. How nice that you should know. Mrs. Cheney, my dear, whom I met in Minnesotor. Mrs. Cheney, Lady Wynton. How do you do? I hope I'm not intruding, Lady Wynton. My dear, Mrs. Cheney, you're a perfect godsend. Here am I, a lone woman, with three dreadful men. Are you going to London, Mrs. Cheney? Yes, I am. Planning to stay long? Yes, I'm taking your house there. Oh, nice. Hello, Ketay. Am I late for dinner again? Yes, Billy, you are. This is my husband, Mrs. Cheney, an old friend of Francis's. How do you do, Mrs. Cheney? This is a pleasant surprise. Sit down, Willie. Where's Arthur? Oh, he's coming. Here he is. Evening, Ketay. Sorry I'm late. Oh, good evening. Mrs. Cheney, may I present to Lord Arthur Dilling. How do you do? Oh, we've met. Don't you remember? I'm the fellow who lies. Oh, yes. Yes. Oh, Willie. Yes, old man? You owe me 30 pounds. So I do. Your company at a charity concert to be held at our home on the afternoon of April... Milord. How long is that going to go on out there? Any idea? Well, I believe it's the last election, Milord. Good. Whiskey and soda, please. Yes, Milord. By the way, Charles. Milord. I can't help thinking I've seen you somewhere before. Indeed, sir. Where have we met? We have never met, Milord. Oh, I assure you we have. I was educated. I mean I was at Oxford and... I once passed through Oxford on a train, Milord. Your manners suggest to me you might have got out and stayed there for some years. Well, I had no idea Oxford had a school for butlers, Milord. Mrs. Cheney seems to have a high regard for you, Charles. Well, I've served the family a long time, Milord. And naturally, you know Mrs. Cheney's likes and dislikes, her whims. A good servant, Milord, always tries to sense the mood of his employer. Then what is her private opinion of all this? This, Milord? Yes. London. All her new friends. Myself, for instance. Well, I couldn't say, Milord. Mrs. Cheney would never think of discussing her private affairs with servants. I accept the review. There was none meant, Milord. Nevertheless, Charles, I still think we've met before. Perhaps it only seems so, Milord. Perhaps. Mrs. Cheney, it's been delightful. Lord Kelton, I ought to scold you. You really shouldn't have bid so much for that doll. Oh, it wasn't for the doll, exactly. It was more for you, Mrs. Cheney. Oh, bidding for me. Oh, no, no, no. I mean, I shouldn't have. I know. And thank you. Goodbye. Goodbye, my dear. Hey, will you dine with me Saturday? Oh, I'm so sorry. I promised a weekend to the Duchess of Ebbly. The Duchess? Oh, you lucky beast. Well, do get her to the Ebbly pearls, my dear. They're fantastic. The Ebbly pearls? But don't ask her how she got them. That's rather fantastic, too. Bye, dear. Goodbye. Oh, George. Yes, Madam? Will you clear away the garden furniture, please, and have William bring the car around? I'll be out for dinner. Yes, Madam. Oh, where is Charles? I believe he's in the drawing room, Madam. Shall I tell him? No, I'll find him. Charles, I'd like to see you a moment. Yes, Madam. Hello. Join me in a whiskey and soda. Arthur, I thought you'd gone. Why? Well, all the others have. I'm waiting for my man with the car. Your man has been waiting for some time, my Lord. Has he? Well, it's a lovely afternoon, Charles. Tell him to wait a little longer. Yes, my Lord. Hello. Hello. I rang you up five times this week, and each time I was told you were out. What a shame. Were you out? No. Each time I was in. Ah, I thought so. Twice I answered it myself and told you I was out. Now, may I ask why? Certainly. I don't care to be alone with you, even on a telephone. Why not? It's my only way of paying tribute to your reputation. Oh, don't tell me it frightens you. You have the great distinction, Arthur, dear, of being one of the few men in the world I'm not frightened of, and I feel I ought to be. Really? Why? Well, you're not bad looking, exquisitely indifferent, even rude to people. A great sense of humor, brilliant and... What else? That's a trouble. Nothing else. Uh, tell me. Did you learn the art of rebuking people so charmingly from your butler, or did he learn it from you? I wonder. I like that, fellow. You mean my butler? Yes. I like his insolence. Was Charles rude to you? Oh, no, the reverse. I have often been told to go to blazes, but never so pleasantly as he told me a few minutes ago. How stupid of Charles. He should know you'd already gone. Now, who told you that? Some of the women who went part of the way with you. You appear to have rather a low opinion of me. Shall we say I haven't a very high one? Really? Have you of yourself? Not at the moment. Then there's hope. I want you to like me. You've got to like me. Now, what can I do about it? Heat. For instance? Live up to the reputation you have for possessing a sense of humor. Go on. Stop living on a glory of your ancestors. Anything else? And tell me exactly why you remained here today after the others had gone. I wanted to be alone with you. Yes. And tell you you're the most attractive woman I ever knew. Oh, and then? If that went well, I proposed to suggest a little dinner at my flat. I see. And if that went well? Then I'd be experienced enough not to say another word till after the dessert. In the future, I shall never dream of asking you to dine with me without a couple of bishops. But why, Arthur? You've depressed me. I don't feel half the fellow I thought I was, and it's a bore. You're no end of a fellow if you only knew it. Nonetheless, I feel now that I have been talking to an entirely good woman. You are, aren't you? Why do you want to know? Because I should feel such a fool if you weren't. I am. But still willing to throw yourself at a man like Kelton? Throw myself? Well, that's what I'd call it. I wouldn't. And why shouldn't you? He's rich. He's solid. He's reliable and, oh, something of a fool. Arthur, dear, ring the bell, will you? Certainly. What for? Charles knows where your hat is. Oh, do you mind if I finish my drink? You don't drink with your meals, do you? Certainly. Why? Because you drink so much between them. May I offer you one? Thank you. You know I don't drink. Uh, cigarette then. And you know I don't smoke. I suppose you'll despise me if I finish this? No. I should like you all the more if you didn't. That's all. Very well. For today, I'm a tea totler. Goodbye, Fay. Angry, Arthur? Uh, no, just defeated. New experience for you, isn't it? Uh, look, you didn't mean all those things you said to me just now, did you? I meant everyone. I like you so much. You know, I've never kissed a woman's hand before. That's a new experience, too. What does it mean, Arthur? My complete and absolute respect. Goodbye. Your hat, my lord. Oh, thank you, Charles. Stand by the window, Charles. Let me know when he's gone. Yes, darling. Did you see? Didn't it, darling? Yes. Very lovely. He's getting into his car now. Ask George and William come in, Charles. They'll be here, darling. Don't worry. Come in, George. Oh, my blasted feet are murdering me. Sit down, George. Well, Jolly will right now sit down. Oh! Did you ring, madam? Quite all right, William. Everyone's gone. Oh, this blasted collar's been choking me all day. Here, how much longer do we keep up this servant, eh, Charles? Oh, I'm clean. War out. You have to play that stuff, babe. Give us something lively, will you? What a pretty lot of pets you look for. Oh, thank you, darling. Well, I've got the invitation. Where? The Duchess of Ebley. I'm asked to stay as an honoured guest. Good girl. Wonderful face. Yes, not too bad with a 5- and 10-cent store girl from Minnesota. The Duchess pearls are worth at least 20,000 pounds. 20,000? This time next week I'll be taking my ease on the deck of a boat pointed for Canada. England suits me. Follow the races and live like a law. That's my motto. 20,000 quid cut four ways. When do you blow, Fay? Blow where? To the Duchesses. The invitation is for Friday weekend. But it doesn't mean I have to accept it. I haven't decided yet. What? What do you mean, Fay? Yes, darling. What do you mean? I said I haven't decided, Charles. Look here, my girl. We pitched in every quid we got to rent this house to buy you clothes and ocean trip while we... Control yourself, William. Now, Fay, suppose you explain. You see, Charles, the idea of persuading perfectly charming people into inviting you into their house for the purpose of robbing them isn't pleasing me at all. You never talked like this before. I had never met them before. You're going to try any tricks, my girl. You won't find it very healthy. Quiet, please. I see her point of view. Oh, you do. I'll tell you what it is. She's got her eye on Kelton. The old cove's always hanging around. Oh. I suppose you fellas clear out. I'd like to have a quiet little chat with Fay alone. Let's go down. We'll be in on it. Leave her at Charles. He can handle her. Well, no off-measures, ma'am. Yeah. Tell our ladyship where she gets off. Well, Fay, if you want to chuck it, you can. Don't be absurd. I only wanted to make them mad, to see them exactly as they are. You know I'm going to see it through. You don't think I'd let you down, Charles? You've never let anyone down. That's the point. Very well, then. Fay, at times you make me think. Without my influence, you never would have chosen this noble profession. It's a precarious one. But the end usually at the beginning. Could it be I'm getting a conscience fade? What do you mean, Charles? What I say. You don't have to tell me you like these new friends of yours. I can see that for myself. You're as bad as George. You think I'm chasing the elderly noble lord. I wasn't thinking of the elderly noble lord. I was thinking of a rather young one. You needn't. And you needn't worry about your pearls either. I'll get them for you, Charles. Friday weekend. In just a few moments, Mr. DeMille and our stars Norma Sherer, Walter Pigeon and Adolf Marjou, will return in act two of the last of Mrs. Jamie. You know, sometimes when the doorbell rings, it has a very exciting sound. And if you're a pretty young lady, you hurry to answer. Special delivery, miss. Thank you. Oh, it's from Bill. Dear Mary, I've got leave for the weekend. And I'm not taking any chances on finding you dated Saturday. How's for some dancing and stuff? Bill's got the right idea. He knows it's smart to date Mary up ahead of time. He knows girls with complexions that are fresh and smooth as a new cut rose are pretty sure to be popular. Yes, there's something about soft, lovely skin that just seems to say romance. You want the kind of skin that wins a smooth romance complexion? So why not let Hollywood's famous beauty care, lux toilet soap, help you have it? Screen stars depend on their daily, active lather facials with this gentle soap. They say the lather's so rich and creamy it feels as though they were smoothing beauty in. Yet lux toilet soap's active lather is thorough, too. It removes stale cosmetics, every trace of dust and dirt from the skin. Here's all you do to take a lux soap beauty facial. Pat the fine rich lather lightly in. Rinse with warm water then with cool. Then pat your face with a soft towel to dry. Now touch your skin. Feels exquisitely fresh and it is. Just try this simple facial every day for 30 days. Discover for yourself what a wonderful beauty aid this Hollywood care can be. How soft and smooth lux toilet soap helps you keep your skin. Get three cakes of this luxurious soap tomorrow. Now, our producer, Mr. DeMille. Act two of the last of Mrs. Cheney, starring Norma Shearer as Mrs. Cheney, Walter Pigeon as Lothar Arthur Dilling, and Adolf Monju as Charles. It's Sunday evening of the weekend party at the Duchess of Ebley's, and Fay has still not stolen the pearls. The party has now reached the parlor game stage, in which the guests squirm uncomfortably on the edge of their chairs, for the game is true. Willie Wenton has the floor, cross-examining his wife's cousin. But you must answer, John, and the truth, remember? Go on, John. What was the question, Willie? Well, I asked you where you got those onyx cufflinks you're wearing. I really don't remember. There's only one solution, of course. What's that, Maria? Why, your wife must have given them to him. The kitty, did you? Yes, Willie, for Christmas. I knew you wouldn't mind. No, of course not. Is the game over? Oh, no, Fay, we're just beginning. I believe it's our hostess' turn to make us all squirm now. Oh, do try and be bright, Elizabeth. Very well, my dear. I'll start with Willie. Willie, what is your private opinion of me as a hostess? Oh, I say. I consider the question answered. Kitty, do you? Yes. Kitty, how many cousins have you? Oh, heaps and heaps. I asked how many. They're not good at figures. Quite a few, I imagine. Enough to keep Willie out of cuddling. Maria, I'm asking the question. Of course, dear. Where's Kelton? Oh, there. Oh, I'm really not playing the game. I'm a sort of spectator, as it were. Kelton, answer me. Oh, well, all right. Kelton, are you really fool enough to think of marrying at your age? Well, I say, look here. Yes or no? Well, now, that's really much too personal. The fourth Earl of Kelton is about to pay a forfeit. Well, I prefer to pay it rather than answer such a question in public. I shall think of something quite drastic. And now, Maria, I've always wanted to know your real age. What is it? Twenty-six, dear. What forfeit? Would you like me to pay? Go up to your mirror and sit in front of it for half an hour. Okay. And now, just one more. Arthur, dear. Ready, Aunt Elizabeth? Arthur, is it true, as I've heard, that you're in love, really in love? Hopelessly, desperately and finally. With whom? Like Kelton, I refuse to make an answer which is already obvious to everybody. I think you'd all better pay a forfeit. I suggest for a change we retire early and stop boring each other. Good night, dear. Well, it looks as if I get Oscar free. Not quite fair. When Arthur proposes to you, will you accept him? But he hasn't proposed. And I really haven't thought about it. Nonsense. You like him, don't you? Everybody does. Oh, Arthur has his good points, you know. He's charming. I can't stand sentiment, but I really like you. And it isn't every woman I'd urge to enter the family. That's the sweetest thing one woman could ever say to another. Thank you. I really should go in, Lord Kelton. You're all supposed to retire early, you know. Oh, do you find me dull? I'm not at all, Lord Kelton. Francis, please. Francis. Faye, I must speak to you. Yes? Faye, I've got a townhouse in London, a country seat in Kent, a shooting box in Scotland, 50,000 acres. Am I getting too intimate? Not too intimate. Well, what I mean is, it's awfully difficult for me to go on. Maybe you'd better not try anymore tonight. Well, I feel like a coward, you see. The thing I'm trying to say to you should be so simple. I've written it on paper a dozen times. I'll throw it up, naturally. Naturally? Mrs. Chang, ma'am, is that you? Yes. You're wanted on the phone, ma'am. London is calling. London? Excuse me, ma'am. You can take it in your room if you wish. Thank you. Don't hurry. It's a fate. What? Your call from London. A fate. I wanted to talk to you. You mean no one wants me? No one, except me, Faye. Oh. And I want you terribly. Really, Arthur? I'm in no mood for it. No, no, no. Don't misunderstand me. I love you, Faye. Will you marry me? Please, Arthur. I'm going to my room. You didn't accept Kelton, did you? What makes you think he asked me? Did you refuse him? No. You will. Can't we discuss this some other time? I'm rather tired, Arthur. You're going to marry me, Faye. The Bishop of Broadminster is an old friend of mine. Less than a couple of miles from here. I've already telephoned him to expect us the first thing in the morning. You're terribly sure of yourself. On the contrary, I'm frightened to death. I don't believe it. It's true. Feel my hand. For your trembling. You won't disappoint the Bishop, will you? You're very sweet. I love you, Faye. You do, don't you? When I'm not with you, I walk around in a little private fog of my own. I cut my friends and greet my enemies. I hear music in the streets and see flowers growing in the gutter. I'm responsive to beggars and comb my hair continually. In fact, let's face it. I've got it worse than any of heaven's creatures ever had it before. Good night, Arthur. Good night, Faye. Don't bother to switch on the lights, darling. Is that you? Surprise, dear. Are you mad, coming here? How did you get in my room? I climbed the ivy. I'm very athletic. Charles, this isn't safe. Certainly not. That's why I'm enjoying it. Why didn't you wire me? I have nothing to say. She got the pearls here in the house? Yes. You're sure? Yes, I tell you. You know where they're located? They're in her room. A wall safe. What about the combination? Well, I'd hate to have to blow it. It's crude. You won't have to blow it. I know the combination. What have you been waiting for? Faye, what's the trouble? You're not going through, is that it? I'm a welcher. An awful welcher, Charles. Oh, no, you're not. You won't back out. It's not now. It's too late. I won't do it. I won't. Now, one moment, Faye. A few days ago, I gave you your chance. The cage was wide open. I could have handled the others then. We can't fool them now. We're both enough to our necks, and it's too risky not to go through with it. Are the plans still the same? The same. I'd be waiting in the garden. At two o'clock, you're to get the pearls from the safe and bring them here. When you turn your light on and off twice, you drop the pearls beneath the window. Yes. At two o'clock. Two o'clock. Hello up there. I say, Faye, Arthur, come down into the garden. It's one o'clock. I know it. Would you like me to sing to you? Anything but that. You may not know it, but I have a rather pleasing baritone voice. I'm sure you have, but I'm just going to bed. Oh, how absurd. It's beautiful out here. Why don't you come on down? Do you suggest I jump? No, climb down the ivy. Apparently, somebody tried to climb up. Look, it's all torn away from the wall. Really? Who do you suppose it was? Kelton? Perhaps. I say, Faye, wait. What the... Oh, I'm sorry, my lord. Well, Charles. Yes, my lord. Good evening, Lord Dilling. Good evening. Aren't you a long way from home, Charles? Yes, my lord. What brings you to every so late? A cablegram, my lord. For Mrs. Cheney. It arrived at 8 o'clock. There was a train at 9.15, and thinking it might be important, I took the liberty of... I see. Your devotion to duty and Mrs. Cheney is really quite touching. Oh, thank you, sir. Most butlers would have telephoned. Well, that occurred to me, my lord, but it would have necessitated my opening the cablegram and reading it to Mrs. Cheney. Of course, that would be unthinkable. You delivered it in person? Mrs. Cheney had retired. I gave it to the housekeeper. Good night, my lord. Just a moment. We can put you up a pier for the night, and you can catch a train in the morning. Well, you're very kind, sir, but there's a local leading at 1.55, and I have many things to attend to in the morning. And at least we can do is have you driven to the station. Well, your lordship's thoughtfulness is most considerate, but I should enjoy the exercise. It's six miles to the station, Charles. Is it really? Well, it seemed less when I walked here. Good night, my lord, and thank you. It's very funny, Charles, but every time I see you, I have a definite feeling we've met somewhere before. You even look more familiar with a hat on. Oh, I beg your pardon, my lord. You are careless of me. I should have taken it off immediately. Good night, my lord. Good night. 33, right. I'll turn on the light for you. That's better, isn't it? Go ahead. Don't let me disturb you. I won't need the light. Thank you. Oh, yes. You already have the pearls, haven't you? May I see them? Thank you. Beautiful, aren't they? You're surprised to see me? I persuaded the Duchess to change rooms with me for the night. Did you tell her why? No, she'll probably ask me in the morning. Oh, what will you say? I'm not sure. I suppose Charles was going to pick the pearls up. That's it? And all this business, Kelton and me all part of the game? Certainly. I see. The job in hand then was merely the pearls. Exactly. For Charles and you? For Charles and me. Ah, cigarette. Thank you. Oh, I just remembered. I thought you didn't smoke. You also thought I was honest. Very true. By the way, what made you suspicious? I suddenly recognized your... Yes, sir. What is Charles to you, by the way? My butler. I mean, in his spare time. A friend. How did you recognize him? I wasn't sure until I saw him with his hat on. Then I remembered three years ago. I was in beer ritz when he was nearly caught. I gave him a sporting chance. Sent them running in the wrong direction. You see, I really saved him for you. You couldn't see your way to making a habit of it. I've always had a horror of doing the same thing twice. What terribly nice cigarettes. Oh, I'll send you some. That's sweet of you. I'll give you my address tomorrow when I know it. Are you thinking of changing your present one? I have an idea. You'll make it difficult for me to keep it. You've really made such fools of all of us. It seems a pity not to allow you to complete it. It has been quite amusing. Splendid. And we'll keep it that way. Amusing. Suppose we sit down comfortably and discuss, shall we say, my price. What are you doing? Locking the door. I see. So we revert to tight. We do indeed. If I agree to stay here, you say nothing? Nothing. And if I don't? Oh, come. Now, why be squeamish? Let's play the little farce to the end. As crooks go, do you know the difference between you and Charles? No. Well, Charles robs with a charm of manners, and you rob with violence. Very neat. If I refuse to stay here, what would you do? You can't refuse me. I wonder if it would interest you to know that as a woman who has done nearly everything there is to do in this world, this is one of the things that I have never done. Why do you smile? I thought we had done with posing. You don't believe me? What a fool you'd think me if I did. But it happens to be true. I wonder how I can prove it to you. You're good, and it's too difficult. I can quite understand you're not believing me. And I'm sorry, because you happen to be the one person in the world I would like to have believed in. But as you don't, I will do the next best thing. And what does that mean? That means if you don't believe that I have never done this before, you will at all events know that I am not going to do it now. Just as you like. Ring that night bell, and when they come, tell the Duchess who I am. Or unlock that door and let me go. You're hardly in a position to dictate terms. That night bell is really an alarm, you know, a police alarm. You can't keep me here against my will. I intend to. Do you? Well, I prefer that they should know what is true about me. Then you should believe what isn't. Open that door, or I'll ring the bell myself. Are you trying to persuade me that you'd really do it? Unless you open the door. Why the bluff, Fadia. It's meaningless, and how? You're much too sensible to take the risk of doing five years in Holloway. Five years in jail wouldn't be nearly as long as the next five hours with you. Get away from that bell. Get. Do you realize what you've done? Perfectly. They'll come rushing into this room, the whole crowd of them. I know it. Then why did you do it? To give you an opportunity to tell them the truth about me. Little fool. I say what's wrong in there. Wille, what is it? You'd better let them in. What the matter? Open the door, open the door. Well, Arthur. I say, Arthur. I'm coming just a moment. Is anything the matter? Well, look here, it's Mrs. Cheney. Hey, my dear, just what is all this? Lord Dilling has something to tell you. Well, Arthur. What is it? Perhaps you'd prefer that I tell them. Speak up, Arthur. What is all this about? Well, I persuaded Mrs. Cheney to come into this room by false pretenses. In the presence of you all, I humbly tell Mrs. Cheney I've behaved like a cad. A cad? You're the lowest thing I've ever known. I don't know what to say to you, Arthur. I suppose because she had sense enough to reject you, you decided she wasn't a lady. I believe that sums it up. Dilling, I for one will, and I hope every decent person in this world will catch up. Everybody should, except the insurance company. They should love him. What do you mean? Lord Dilling, will you give the duchess her pearls, please? Night pearls? What is the meaning of this? It means I came here to... Well, I like them as much as you do. What? You mean you were going to... Yes, I tried to steal them. But there must be some mistake. None. Well, I'm not feeding very well. I think I'll retire. I believe I will, too. I give you my word, your grace, that I won't try to escape. I invited you into my home. I thought you were... Oh, it's hard to believe. I've never been wrong about a person before. Consol yourself. You weren't so wrong. You thought I was a respectable woman with a soul of an adventurous. Whereas, I'm really an adventurous with a soul of a respectable woman. Wait, please. Just for the record, you didn't fool me for a moment. There's no such place as Minnesota, is there? No. I made it up. Good night. Now, for station identification, this is the Columbia Broadcasting System. After a brief intermission, Mr. DeMille presents Norma Sherer, Walter Pigeon, and Adolf Marjou in Act 3 of The Last of Mrs. Cheney. And now, quiet, please. A conspiracy is going on in a little house on Vine Street. Hurry up, kids. Wipe the candles before she gets downstairs. She's coming. All together now. Happy birthday! Happy birthday! Happy birthday! Here's to the most wonderful wife in the world, and the prettiest. Well, there's a compliment to make any woman happy. A compliment deserved by all those busy wives and mothers who try always to look their best for those who love them, who try to keep the charm of fresh youthful skin, the kind of skin that makes people say, no matter what a woman's age, lovely, isn't she? Now, here's what a famous screen star, Irene Dunn, says. There's always romance and soft, smooth skin. I never neglect my daily care with lux toilet soap. Here in Hollywood, we've used this gentle soap for years. Yes, lux toilet soap is as fine as luxuries, a soap as you can buy. When you unwrap a cake, notice how satin smooth it is to the touch. Then discover what wonderful, rich lather it gives. Lather that's thorough, but very gentle, too. No wonder this exquisite white soap is the choice of nine out of ten famous screen stars of lovely women everywhere. Use lux toilet soap regularly. Let it help you win new loveliness. Now, Mr. DeMille returns to the microphone. The curtain rises on the third act of the last of Mrs. Cheney, starring Norma Shearer, Walter Pigeon, and Adolph Mongeau. The house has quieted down for a few hours of restless slumber, but Fay alone in her room walks the floor nervously. Suddenly, the door is opened, and Arthur slips in silently. Have you been set to guard me? If so, you can take up your position outside the door. We've got to act quickly. There's a car at the gate, and the back door is clear. Are you ready? For what? I intend to get you out of this. And what will the price be this time? Now, you're not going to be a fool again. Not in the least. Or have I the remotest intent in running away, least of all with you. There's someone at that window. Charles, I'm adding. Come in, Charles. What's the matter? I've been waiting since I can't... Charles, we have company. Oh, good evening, the Lord. Good evening, Charles. It's no good, Charles. I've bungled the whole job. I see. I'm sorry. Well, it's all in the luck of the game. And his lordship? He caught me, quite cleverly. They've put in a call for Scotland Yard. Inspector Witherspoon will be here in the morning. Witherspoon. Know him, Charles? Slightly. Lord Dilling, I presume you've gathered my position in this matter. Quite. But I'm afraid I don't quite follow yours. All I want is for Mrs. Cheney to get out of here right away. Very generous, if I may say so. But if you feel like that, I capture the lady. Charles, have you never heard of anglers who catch little fish and then fling them back again? Fair dear, you're being unsociable. If his lordship wishes you to escape, then perhaps... Charles, you've got to get out of here as soon as you can. I intend to remain for reasons of my own. What reasons? Well, that's my business. Then I'll remain too. Don't you understand? Where could I go if it would only be a question of hours or days at the most? I'm not going through life always hunted. Well, it's really not bad when you get used to it. Not for me, thank you. So be it then. We remain. Is she still in her room? Aime's report you'll be down for breakfast at nine. That cheek of hers. How many years will she get, will I? Oh, I think that'll depend on the age of the judge. Oh, good morning. Good morning, Kelton. Good morning. I heard what you said. You're not really going to arrest her, are you? Certainly we are. The inspector's on his way now. Have some breakfast. When I think of her, the most modest, the most simple, no, I can't believe it. Where are the eggs? Kelton, are you persisting in your doddering fancy for this adventure? Well, I thought we could send her away, perhaps, to America. You didn't really propose to her, did you? Of course he did. She's just the type that cautious rich men wait 50 years for. Look here, we've got to stop it. Quite right, Kelton. But I think you'd better tell why. Good morning, everybody. What do you mean, Arthur? Well, it seems Kelton has proposed to Mrs. Cheney. I knew it. Oh, but that's not all. He did it in writing. What? Sweetness. He didn't. Oh, Kelton, you didn't. Yes, I did. The moving picture rights to it alone are worth 10,000 pounds of just coffee, please. Kelton, when did you write this letter? Last night. We'd been walking in the garden and, well, oh, dear, well, later on I slipped it under her door. Oh, Kelton, you poor fool. Arthur, did she show you the letter? Oh, yes. Well, I must defend her. She omitted the emotional passages. Arthur, go back there at once and get that letter. It's her own property. The fact that she has tried to appropriate ours does not permit us to retaliate. Don't be silly. The police know how to do these things. White. In that case, the letter would be read in court. No, no, no, no, no. I'm afraid you'll have to buy the letter, Kelton. Cost you 32, oh man. Oh, you'll think it's funny, do you? Well, you'll change your mind when you know what's in that letter. I kept a copy of it, my first draft. And every one of you is in it. Every one of us? What do you mean? I mean you're all in it. You mean you dare to mention our names in a letter that might become public? What have you said about us? In that letter, I wrote my private opinion of you all. It seemed to me the proper thing to do. The rattle of skeletons falling out of closets will be deafening. I conceived it to be a duty to my future wife to define the people she should or should not know as the case might be. Am I a not? Definitely. Am I? All of you. Including you, my dear aunt. For instance, it may not be true that Willie got kicked out of the Grenadier guards. What? I won't hear a word of it. Sit down, Kitty. I think we'd all better know the worst. What have you said about my wife? Well, I said that it was evident to me that she prefers always to be with one of her many cousins rather than her husband. And though I could understand it, I could not condone it. That's all I said. That's all you said. That's all he said. Uh, pass the letter to Maria. Top paragraph on third page. Uh, interesting, Maria, and probably very true, eh? Good heaven. No, no, no. Don't upset yourself. Look, look, I say all of you beast. You can't. But I only said... Oh, no, no. You did it. Oh, you... Gently, Maria, gently. It's not kind to me either. Aunty, dear, suppose you look it over. Right there, I believe. The history of all your mistakes in a nutshell. Hmm. So, Pilton, you break that up. You break that up, have you? It seems such a pun at the time, but I must say it looks awful in black and white. I tried to whitewash you quite a bit. In other words, ladies and gentlemen, if this letter is placed as evidence at the Old Bailey, Mrs. Cheney and Charles will be condemned as criminals. But the rest of us will envy them the comparative purity of their reputation. What are we going to do with this woman? Let us be accurate. What is this woman going to do with us? Well, my view is this. We should not, for a moment, let her think the letter is important. We should offer her her passage back to America and, in consideration of her returning the letter, the matter is at an end. Otherwise, she goes to jail. Arthur, you handle this affair. That ass has made mess enough of things already. Good morning. Ah, Mrs. Cheney. Good morning. Won't you take a chair? Thank you. And as Charles was born a gentleman, may he sit too? Certainly, Charles. No thanks. I prefer to stand. Very well. Ah, Mrs. Cheney, you have acknowledged, frankly, that in accepting the Duchess of Abbey's invitation to stay here, it was for the purpose of taking her pearl. Yes. We planned it for months. That is very frank. The penalty for such things is considerable. Very considerable. Yes. Charles and I think that with a charm of manner, we may get off for three years. Exactly. Now, we have no wish that this should happen to you. Lord Kelton feels very strongly that if you had once asked a woman to be your wife, it would be ungenerous to treat her so drastically. Thank you, Lord Kelton. Oh, not at all. So, Lord Kelton has a proposition to make to you. Oh, yes? Go on, Kelton. If you will accept your ticket and a small sum of, say, a hundred pounds in return for the letter I sent you, we are prepared to consider the matter closed. Oh, is it my turn now? If you will be so kind, Mrs. Cheney. I am very sorry that I cannot accept Lord Kelton's kind offer. But Charles and I have decided we must go to jail. Is that right, Charles? Quite right. I don't understand. Mrs. Cheney. What are you talking about? Look here, this is nonsense, Mrs. Cheney. You never succeeded in getting the pearl. Precisely. We failed. And that is why we should go to jail. If we had got them, we should have succeeded. A crime for which no one ever goes to jail. You put it charmingly, very dear. My dear young woman, you don't understand us. We don't want you to go to jail. Then equally, Duchess, you don't understand us. We do. But good heavens, woman, you can't be serious. Isn't it sad, Charles? They don't understand us. Tragic. It makes me blush for them. Charles and I, in our humble way, have tried to live up to the highest tradition of our profession. And that tradition is never to be found out. But if you are, I say if you are, be prepared to pay the price. I beg your pardon, your grace. Yes? The police inspector is here. Tell him to wait. Yes, madam. You see, Mrs. Cheney, we are terribly serious. It is your duty to be, my dear Duchess. You are very stupid not to accept a good offer instead of being taken away by that horrid policeman. Not at all, he may be charming. Are you ready, Charles? Almost eager. As I shall never see any of you again, I want you to know how much I've enjoyed knowing you all and how sorry I am to lose such nice friends. Goodbye, Lord Kelton. It was sweet of you to ask me to be your wife. Ready, Charles? Mrs. Cheney, now wait. Yes? Well, we are... I think that Lord Kelton, with his customary munificence, desires to make you a further opera. Yes, sir. I am prepared to pay 500 pounds for the return of that letter. Which I call very generous. I prize the letter so much that I don't think I would part with it for any money you could offer me. What about a thousand? But this is amazing. Oh, come, come, young woman. What is your usual charge for the return of letters? There never have been any letters. But if there had been, my charge would have depended entirely on the position and the manners of the people mentioned in them. If I don't propose to sit here and be insulted, I will, with your permission, say goodbye. You are perfectly right, say darling, and if I had known they were the type of people they are, I would never have allowed you to come and stop with them. Come along, dear. No, no, no, no, please, I agree. Maria was very, very hasty, and I am sorry. Now, please sit down. When she has apologized, I will. Maria, say it once that you are sorry. Heaven give me strength. I am sorry, granted. Sit down, Mrs. Cheney. Now, where were we? Well, we had reached a point where a thousand pounds was bid for the letter. Which was refused. Mrs. Cheney, what will you take for it? What do you think, Charles? Well, I offer five thousand. You be quiet. I'll be nothing of the sort. My money is as good as yours. Mrs. Cheney, will you please answer my question? If I sell the letter, I will do so, not in a sense of blackmail, but more in the spirit of breach of promise for ten thousand pounds. Good heavens, Faye, it's giving it away. That's what it is. Ten thousand? No, no, I refuse. I'm glad. Because I'd so much rather keep the letter. Kelton, you have no alternative but to pay. And I have no sympathy for you. But Mrs. Cheney, surely... Ten thousand pounds, Lord Kelton. Oh, it's terrible, terrible. Oh, terrible beblowed. I'll give you eleven for it. No, no, no, no. I'll pay. I'll write you out a check. Thank you, Lord Kelton. Ten thousand. What do you charge for a course of twelve lessons, Charles? Well, I never charge, my lady. Love's his work. Would you like me to write that check for you, Kelton? Oh, thank you, I'm quite capable. Ten thousand pounds. Here you are. And now the letter, please, Mrs. Cheney. Oh, yes, the letter. Here it is, Lord Kelton. I hope you will find all the pieces. What? She's torn it up. I don't understand. Mrs. Cheney, do you mean to say that you destroyed the letter? Yes, I tore it up. Just like I'll tear your check, Lord Kelton. Hey, don't take it. Ten thousand pounds gone down the drain. And I've tried so hard to make her a crook. Mrs. Cheney, why did you tear that check? I don't know. Even a thief may have a sense of decency. You're a grand woman, Fay. A grand woman. Mrs. Cheney, there is one question I would like to ask. Why are you a thief? Well, I wanted to improve my social position. You see, I was a sharp girl. You were a fine sense doll. Well, Charles found me. I wanted to share the beautiful things in life, and I am not a modern woman. Well, if one is not a modern woman and one has no money, there are only two ways of getting it, marry it or steal it. I'm afraid I prefer stealing. The best pupil I ever had. Boy, good. I sympathize with her. Mrs. Cheney, do you know what I'll do? I'll set you up in a little moat dish shop all your room in appreciation. Sort of a memorial, eh, Kelton? Lord Kelton, you're very kind. It's divine of him. I'll be one of your customers. I too. Well, I must go. Old Charles, if you ever need a pupil, you'll find me in the telephone book. Well, I shall never want a pupil, my lady, but I'm glad to know I'll find you in the telephone book. If you'll call me in town, Mrs. Cheney, we'll make all the necessary arrangements for your little business. Mrs. Cheney has changed her mind, Kelton. She doesn't need any bribe for doing something that came quite spontaneously. Lord Dilling is right, but thank you all the same. Oh, well, just as you say, but I should be very glad to help you in any way I can. Oh, Charles, I wonder if an introduction to the president of our bank would be of service. Well, thank you, Lord Kelton. Oh, well, we'll see you. Goodbye. I'll see you off, Kelton. Bye, all. We're coming, too. Goodbye, Mrs. Cheney. Goodbye. Nice people, aren't they, Charles? Most of us are, fey. What made you take up this job, Charles? With your brains, it seems a pity you haven't used them to better purposes. One of His Majesty's judges may use those exact words one of these days. I found out at an early age what most men find out in an old one. Life is very dull, my lord. I agree. So I decided to take it into my two hands. I began it as a blackmailer, but that was too easy. I went for higher and greater things. Oh, um, will you take this, Lord Dilling? What is it? I hate parting with it, because being the first I ever took, I'd treasure it. This is your gold watch I stole from you on Derby Day five years ago. My dear Charles, I've always wanted to meet the man who took it, and I hope you will do me a favor. Keep it. May I? I'd like you to. That is very nice of you. I will. So long, Dilling. So long, Charles. Goodbye, fey. What do you mean goodbye? What it means is I have decided to take a little trip round the world. You're not going to leave me. Do you understand? I am, and now. But I don't want you to. I must. Why? Whenever you come into a person's life, come into it instantaneously. When you go out of it, go out of it even quicker. Charles, I'm going to cry. Don't do that, my sweet. But I would be terribly sorry if you didn't want to. Are you going around the world for pleasure, Charles? Uh, mixed with business, my lord. I'm going to ask you a question, but you needn't answer it if you don't want to. I'll answer it with pleasure. If you hadn't come into my room last night, I would have taken the pearl. You mean that? Yes. But no one in the world could have been so glad to see you in that bedroom as I was last night. It's an extraordinary thing, but the most difficult question in the world to ask a woman is a nice one. What sort of a question were you going to ask me? You remember my mentioning a certain bishop who lives close by? Very distinctly, Arthur. While you were changing your clothes this morning, I jumped into the car and had a bite of breakfast with him. How surprised he must have been to see you at that hour. Always a delightful old soul, so sympathetic. I told him of the little trouble I was in. He said, bring her here at eleven and I'll fix it up for you. What was he to fix? But I could have breakfast with you every morning. But I never eat any. I told him there was a possibility of that. Did you tell him anything else? That I love you. Did you tell him anything about me? Everything. He said, get her. You'll never get another like her. He sounds like a darling. I'd like to meet him. He asks us to be punctual. So he thinks I'll come. He's more certain of it than I am. He says you love me. I wonder what makes him think that. Well, he has sort of an idea you'd never have rung that bell last night if you didn't. I'm sure I shall like him. Do you think he'll like me? He'll adore you. Do you? Terribly. What is more important? Do you? Much more terribly. I only wish I hadn't. You can't talk and kiss me at the same time. There. That will do it. What's that? That's the last of Mrs. Cheney. And this? What's that? The beginning of Lady Dilling. That's the last of Mrs. Cheney. But your applause for tonight's performance calls our stars back to the footlights. And here are Norma Shearer, Walter Pigeon, and Adolf Mongeau. Thank you, Mr. Mill. It's a great pleasure to be here for the first time. You really made me feel so much at home. Now that we've finally broken the ice, Norma, I hope you'll make it a habit. That's a very nice habit to get, Norma. CB is an excellent host. Although I came very close to losing my welcome here once, Adolf. Well, Walter can't forget that. What happened? Well, I'd been talking to CB before rehearsal one day, and I thought he'd walked away. So I turned to somebody else and said, the old boy certainly looks great, doesn't he? But the old boy was standing right behind me. I thought it was great compliment. I hadn't been called a boy in 40 years. Well, you see, that's one way to his heart, Norma. Well, I can think of another, Adolf. In two words, luck, soap. You know, I'm rather strange in this theater, Mr. Mill, but not to luck, soap. I've used it for years, so I know what a fine complexion care it really is. For further comment on luck, soap, I refer our audience to a close-up of Norma Shearer on the screen or off. What about next week, CB? Have you picked a play yet? Yes, Adolf. A play with the true spirit of America in it. It's no motion picture drama, a man to remember. And our stars will be Lionel Barrymore, Anita Louise, and Glenn Ford. A man to remember is the story of a country doctor, a story of heroism and courage to inspire the nation in these or any other times. So next Monday night is a night to remember. Lionel Barrymore, Anita Louise, and Glenn Ford in A Man to Remember. We'll all enjoy that, Mr. DeMille. Good night. Good night, CB. Good night. Good night. There is life you make good plays better. Ladies and gentlemen, some very pleasant news has come to us from the editors of Movie Radio Guide. For the seventh consecutive year, the Lux Radio Theater has been selected as Radio's leading dramatic program by the readers of Movie Radio Guide in its annual Star of Stars poll. This is a high honor. We're grateful to all who participated and to you, our audience, who helped us win it. To those of our Canadian audience who are tonight gathered at the Canadian premiere of Reap the Wild Wind in Alberta, Canada, in Calgary, my sincere greetings, and I'm sorry I can't be there. Our sponsors, the makers of Lux Toilets Oaks, join me in inviting you to be with us again next Monday night. When the Lux Radio Theater presents Lionel Barramore, Anita Louise, and Glenn Ford in A Man to Remember. This is Cecil B. DeMille saying good night to you from Hollywood. That all bonds you is currently starring in the 20th Century Fox picture, Roxy Hart. Heard in tonight's play were Frederick Warlock as Lord Kelton, Keith Hitchcock as Willie, Winifred Harris as the Duchess, Jill Esmond as Kitty, Clairvedere as Maria and John Abbott, Eric Snowden, Pax Walker, Charles Seal and Anne James. Tune in next Monday night to hear Lionel Barramore and Anita Louise and Glenn Ford in A Man to Remember. Our music was directed by Louis Silvers and your announcement...