 From Hollywood, California the Lux Radio Theatre presents Frederick March and Florence Eldridge in The Outsider with Douglas Montgomery Lux presents Hollywood. This program made possible because of your friendship for our products. Tonight brings you Frederick March, Florence Eldridge, Douglas Montgomery, Donald Crisp and Marcel Corday in the stage and screen success The Outsider. Also behind the footlights of our theatre here on Hollywood Boulevard are two special guests. Miss Anne Barkens, who tells us how motion pictures are edited and Milton H. Berry, who like the central figure of our play, is devoting his life to an amazing treatment for cripples. Our conductor, Louis Silver. And now, here is our producer. Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Cecil B. DeMille. Greetings from Hollywood, ladies and gentlemen. The banks in recent years have had their ups and downs, but they suffered their severest loss when Frederick March became an actor. A surgeon removed Fred's appendix and his desire for banking at the same time. Up to then he'd sat behind a desk at the National City Bank of New York, but during his convalescence he realized that he'd rather be behind the footlights. Even before then, Fred had longings for the theatre. Of all the laurels he accumulated at the University of Wisconsin, where he was honor student, manager of the football team and class president, none meant as much to Fred as the University Voderville Cup, which he won for putting on the Best Variety Act. He met and married Florence Eldridge while they were playing together in stock. Then as tonight they were co-starred. Lovers of the legitimate theatre will be delighted to learn that this fall, Frederick March and Florence Eldridge will leave their Beverly Hills home for a while and return to the New York stage. Mrs. March entrains for the East a week from tonight. And she can blame me for holding her husband here. At the moment, Fred is up to his nautical boot-tops starring for me a journal of feet in the buccaneer. Tonight, however, he sheathes his cutlass, turns his back on the swamps of Louisiana and becomes Anton Ragazzi in Dorothy Brandon's melodrama, The Outsider. His lovely wife is heard as Le Large Sturdy. Our all-star supporting cast features Douglas Montgomery as Bessel, Donald Crisp as Dr. Sturdy and Marcel Coday as Madame Clost. Curtain time. Our stars enter. The footlights clash on and the Lux Radio Theatre presents Frederick March and Florence Eldridge in The Outsider. A dimly light hit room and a small house in London. A heavily shaded desk lamp throws deep shadows on the whitewashed walls. Behind the desk sits Anton Ragazzi. He's leaning back in his chair, his eyes closed, waiting. Somewhere a clock strikes three. And from the shadows on the other side of the room comes a low moan. A woman lies there strapped to a table. Passing to her legs are a series of weights which slowly but surely are stretching her crippled bones back to normal. The table, like a modern instrument of torture, gleams brightly in the darkened room. She moans again and Ragazzi comes softly to her side. Here, here, here, here. What's the matter? My legs, they hurt tonight. They feel as if they're being thrown from my body. Stop it. You wish to walk again, do you not? Yes. You must bear the pain. You must grit your teeth and clench your hands and say over and over to yourself, I have faith in Anton Ragazzi. I have faith. I have. But it's been so long now. So many days and weeks. And months, yes. The rack works slowly, very slowly. Who'll soon be over? How soon? Tonight, I hope. Tonight? Tomorrow morning, Madam Plast. You will take your first step. I'll walk again. Quiet. You must rest. Hysterical patients are bad patients. You must take no chances. Hello? Trafalgar 6840, please. Hello? St. Martha's Hospital? I would like to leave a message for Dr. James Sturdy. Tell him his patient, Madam Plast, whom he discharged as a hopeless cripple, has been cured. Tell him the rack, which he said was useless, has straightened her hips so that tomorrow she will be able to walk. Tell him if he will call his staff of physicians together at 10 o'clock. I will be pleased to give a demonstration. This is Anton Ragazzi speaking. No, no, not Dr. Ragazzi. Just Anton. Gentlemen, gentlemen, please. Dr. Sturdy, in my opinion, we should recognize this Ragazzi. He has a machine, a rack as he called it, that will cure a lateral curvature. I'd like to know about it. You'll have your opportunity, Dr. Ladd. He's coming here at 10. But I may tell you, frankly, I shall not be here. I have no faith in this man. Nor have I. He has no degree. He has no medical background. He's obviously a charlatan. But he has cured cripples. His facts prove it. Ladd, I think you mistake the issue. We are all deeply interested in giving our patients the best treatment possible. But we cannot expose our patients to the risks of a cure, which has not been tested and proved by competent physicians and surgeons. That's intolerant. Do you really believe I'm intolerant? Perhaps I ought to tell you why. That's hardly necessary, Dr. Sturdy. I'm intolerant because I've learned the mischief that cracks can do in the person of my own daughter, my own child. You know her, some of you? Yes, yes, of course. You know that she's beautiful, talented. You also know that from her hips down she is a hopeless and helpless cripple. She wasn't born that way. There was some slight dislocation, but I never knew it. Her mother died when she was born and I refused to look at my child. I sent her away to some people in the country. Then I left England. The people never wrote. I didn't know until three years later that my child still couldn't walk. She crawled, dragging one little foot. They were having her treated by a local bone-setter, an unlicensed physician. That's a terrible thing, Sturdy, a terrible thing. I think I knew I was a father then for the first time. But before I could reach her, the child's hip had been so twisted and torn that nothing could be done. Nothing ever will be done because of my neglect. Sturdy, I think we hardly realize she is a cripple. She has such chance, Billy. Yes, her music. She has her music. Father? Have you quite forgotten me? Oh, good morning, Mr. Sturdy. May I please? Or are you saying dreadful things I mustn't hear? Come in, dear. Thank you, no. I can manage a short walk. How are you, Dr. Ladd? Come and sit down, Larry. No, I can't really. I only came to pick up Father. He promised he wouldn't be late because I've got a big rehearsal this morning. And I love songs. You know the lyrics? That's a low-end, aren't they? Yes. We've been collaborating. He writes beautiful things. They go well to your music. You conduct yourself? No, I can't, Dr. Ladd. You see, the thing takes nearly half an hour and I... I can't stand that long without my stick. But I think this new conductor they have can give me what I want. I've heard he's quite good. But he isn't me. I don't think how you'd feel if you had to watch another surgeon performing your pet operation. Come along, darling. Goodbye, everyone. Goodbye, Mr. Lally. You see? You see the way she has to drag herself? I will not meet this man who he needs presumptuous ignorance made due to another man's daughter. What has been done to mine? Good morning, gentlemen. Good morning, sir. Well? Well, Ladd. Sturt is the finest chief of staff this hospital ever had. It's our duty to stand. Reception Room B, the nurse said? Yes. I'm nervous, Dr. Ragazzi. Don't be a fool. You walk this morning, you walk again now. Ah, this is it. Good morning. Oh, come in, Mr. Ragazzi. I'm Dr. Ladd. Dr. Ladd, how do you do? This is Dr. Tally, Dr. Israel, Dr. Mann, Good morning, sir. Good morning, and this is my patient, Madam Clost. But where is the great Dr. Sturdy? I came here to catch the big fish, not the small fry. Dr. Sturdy has just left. He will not meet me, eh? Why not? Mr. Ragazzi, I think we'd better tell you in confidence. He's had a very painful tragedy in his family. His only daughter is a cripple. He cannot cure her? No. He is a doctor. He has a daughter he cannot cure. That puts him in a stupid situation. An intensely painful one. He does not like it, eh? He would like it still less if I were to cure her. I've heard you claim to cure almost anything. Not claim, Dr. I have proved it. Madam Clost, as you know, was one of your patients here. She was incurable. You admitted it, all of you. Now watch. Madam Clost, will you walk across the room, please? Yes, sir. Yes. Come, come, come, come. No hesitation. Walk. Is this all right? There. You see, doctor? Hardly any limb. What little there is I shall fix on my rack. Dr. Lads, yes, orderly. You don't touch it. Let's go, let's go. How are you, sir? I took the liberty of having my racks sent over. For your approval, of course, gentlemen. There. Now examine it, please. Notice how light it is and yet how strong. The workmanship is beautiful. That's because I made it with my own hands. The wheel that turns the pulleys is worked by electricity. You, you cannot see the turning. Because it pulls only the one thousandth part of an inch an hour. That, that is gentle, eh? Yes, it's ingenious. I'd like Dr. Sturdy to have seen this. He would not have looked at it. Because the rack has succeeded where he has failed. Well, that's not the point, Mr. Rogatse. Dr. Sturdy has no objection to your machine. It is more, I think, a matter of your qualifications to use it. What does that mean? You have no degree. Oh, oh, I see. You want me to have letters after my name, eh? That satisfies you and satisfies the public. All right, then give them to me. Are you suggesting that we should recommend the Royal College of Surgeons to confer an honorary degree on you? And why not? Have you ever served an internship or studied anatomy, except from a book? Yes. Where may I ask? Where may you ask? In the dark yards at Chicago. The slaughterhouse. Then now we to understand that you began as a butcher. A butcher? No, no. I began as apprentice to my uncle. He made apparatus for doctors. They came to us and asked us to make instruments that were mechanical impossibilities. So I said to my uncle, release me for one year. I'll go and cut up carcasses to find out how the joints fit in the sockets. What holds them and what makes them bend. And then we will make the finest instruments in all the world. Well, it's unheard of. You're shocked, eh? Mr. Raghatsis, we appreciate your energy, your enterprise and your courage. And we realize that you cannot be and should not be content to be merely a mechanic working under surgeons. Then why not do the theoretical work also? Quality work. What? Spend four years like a little boy studying books and writing answers to examination papers? You think I'd leave my work all that time? Leave crippled people waiting to be cured? Children? So I can learn Greek and Latin names for English bonds or not? Then understand. If you won't qualify, you must undertake no case without a surgeon. You forbid me to take cases without you. That is our rule. To prevent unemployment among surgeons, eh? To protect the public from unqualified practitioners. There's no backdoor to the Royal College of Surgeons or to wish to enter and must climb by the front doorstep. All remain outside. I will not stay outside. However much you bar me out, I will come in. I'll break down bars and bolts. I'll blow a hole in the back wall to make a door for me. Wall to make a door for me. I'll set the world on fire to burn your college down. Keep me out when they have let you in. Oh, no. No, gentlemen. No. Bring the rack in here. Yes, sir. Let it stay at home where it belongs, where it will do some good. Not in the hands of fools. There's a charge on that. Here. Now get out. Right? I'm sorry. Things went the way they did. You. You are sorry. Did you support me? Did you defend me? When I was attacked? Did you sit there, momma's or mouse? I walked for them. Yes, yes. You walked for them. You did what Sturdy's own daughter could not. You. Yes. What is it? You walked for them. Now you must walk again today for her. For Miss Sturdy. But I don't know her. I want her to see you. But I don't know her. What does that matter? You go to her house. You hear? Tell her your history. But if she won't see me. You must make her see you. You still have treatments to be given. For which you cannot pay. You mean you take away to wreck? Yes. Unless you make her promise to see me. Tell her the doctors will not let her see me because they are afraid. Ha! Afraid that I will cure her. Tell her the truth. That I am an outsider. A nobody. But I do cure people. And that's what he said, Mr. D. If you don't see him. I'll be crippled again. Please, Mr. D. Here. Here is the paper he gave me. You can see for yourself. To Madam Anna Kloss. I, Anton Regazzi, guarantee to give you further necessary treatments on my special apparatus, the extension racks. If you'll persuade Miss LaLage Sturdy. Why, this is horrible. Basil, help me up, please. Of course, dear. But hadn't you better say where you are? I've never heard of such a thing in my life. Is this man human? He will sign it if you will let him come here. Only to see him, he asks nothing more. Please, Mr. D., do this for me. You don't know what it is to be a cripple? I... I don't. No, you are rich. You need never go when you're tired. You lie in bed unconscious. You are carried by your servants. What does it matter? What does it hurt you to be lame? But me... Please don't cry. I know how it must be for you. I'll see him. Oh, thank you. May I tell him now? Yes, tell him. God bless you, Mr. D. Basil, you stay. Of course, LaLage. Yes, sit down. He doesn't seem to be the sort of person you ought to see alone. The arrogant, the insolent arrogant. He's only got to see me and I'll be persuaded to let him treat me. But, LaLage... If he could cure you. You know, he does cure people. I've read about him. You'd be a woman, LaLage. Not a spirit in a prison. Basil, don't. Don't make me hope. Father says I mustn't. Sorry? You've been wonderful, Basil, all these years. You don't know what it's meant to have someone outside my family who didn't treat me as a cripple. You've never done that. I've never thought of you as one. Haven't you, Basil? But, if he could do something. Anything. Are you going to tell him your father says there's no hope? I'm not going to tell him anything. Or even let him see me walk. I'll just listen quietly to what he has to say and then tell him that he's had his pound of flesh but that he shan't touch one single bone. That's all. That's all, Basil. In just a moment, Frederick March and Florence Eldridge continue in the outside world. Meanwhile, we go to a suite in a popular hotel here on Hollywood Boulevard. A young married couple is there, hurrying to change for the evening. Oh, Jim, I can't hurry. My dress isn't back from pressing. And now I have a run in my stocking. Why such cheap stockings? Cheap? I'd hate to tell you, but I paid for these. All right, so they're not cheap. But I don't see why you have to get a run in them every time you turn around. Come in. It's the ladies' dress, Mr. Page. Oh, swell, Mary. Come on in. Say, maybe you can answer this. You've been a maid around here a long time. Do all women always get runs in their stockings? Well, I don't think they get run so often when they wash their stockings in luck. You mean those flakes? Yes, ma'am. That's the way I always do. It's just like it says in those lucks as you've seen. Rubbing stockings with cake soap is hard on the threads. And some soaps have alkali in them, and that's bad, too, but not in luck's legs. You seem to know a lot about it, Mary. But does it really work? Oh, yes, ma'am, from my experience it does. My stockings keep nice and springy. And most of the ladies that come to the hotel here think that's so, too. At least they always tell me to be sure I wash their stockings in luck. Well, maybe you're right. I'd certainly be glad to find a way to run on stocking run. OK, that settles the whole business. Here, Mary, get Mrs. Page a box of lucks and keep the change. And make it a large box, too. Come on, now, dear, please snap into that dress. We hear now from our producer, Mr. DeMille. The outsider continues, starring Frederick March and Florence Eldridge with Douglas Montgomery, Donald Crisp and Marcel Caudet. One hour later, the large sturdy lies on her couch in the sitting room waiting for a gatzie. The driver's about nervously arranging the pillows. Suddenly the door is flung open and Anton Ragazzi, unannounced, stands smiling in the doorway. How do you do? I am Anton Ragazzi. Do you usually enter a room without knocking? Only when I am in a hurry. You're pardoned, please. I am the large sturdy. Miss sturdy. This is Mr. Basil Owen. How do you do it? How do you do it? I understand that you will sign this paper if I agree to give you an interview. Certainly. But then you shall have one. Now, please sign. Of course. You must not look at me like that. I am not such a villain. But you would have tortured that poor woman. You think I'd take away the rack from her and spoil my best advertisement? But I had to make her think I would. Do you call that honest? Perhaps not. But that should reassure you. To know that you're not honest? Certainly. If I were not genius, I should have to be. Oh, I say. All is forgiven to celebrities. Basil, this man is impossible. Don't get up there. Yes, yes, yes. Let her walk. I want to watch. Ah. Ah, yes. What are you doing? You're looking at me like a doctor. I won't have it. Oh, no, no, no. It's all right. I have seen you walk. And when you are not thinking, that is good, eh? Don't mind. I do mind. Mr. Rowan, take her to the sofa. I will not look. Yeah, L.A. Are you comfortable? Yes, thank you. You are recovered from the shock? Mr. Agassi. Not quite, eh? Then I will sit down and assume a bedside manner to reassure you. Put out your tongue and say 99. Ah, yes. Yes, you have the crook. Oh, why do I laugh? Because I make you. I make you let me in. I make you walk. I make you laugh. And can you make her well? Basil. Does she want to be well? Of course she does. She does not say so? No. No, I will not cure her. She shall stay a crippled. That will please her father, eh? That's a lie. Mr. Agassi, I didn't mean to see you. I know you did not. But as we've got so far. Ah, we have got so far, have we? You'd better see the X-ray photos of me. Then you'll know. And then you'll leave. Will I? Shall I ring for them, Lally? Yes, please. Oh, no, no. Ask Miss Cross to give them to you. I'll be back right away. Very handsome young man, eh? Yes. You love him, eh? You want to marry him? No. Oh, yes. But you would not curse him with a crippled wife, eh? Some other woman gets him, eh? That's not nice for you. And even if you were married to him, he would go to golf and dance with other women, eh? That's all the young ones think of nowadays, you know? Dance, dance, dance. And they hold each other pretty close, too. Makes them think of marriage, eh? You beast. Yes. A man, a man is a beast. He's a dog. A dancing dog. What a pity you are a beauty. It's no good. Must be a fine torture lying here knowing what a good time you would have if you were not a cripple, eh? Men would go mad for you. Throw themselves at your feet. You don't want that now, eh? But if I cure you... Get away from me. What are you? A temptation of the devil? Or an answer to my prayer? Half and half. I am not all bad. Well, they are. The x-rays. Aha, let me see. Quick, quick, the x-ray. Aha. Well? Tell me. Miss Sturdy, now I know I can cure you. You... You're sure? I'm positive. Lally. Basil, don't look at me like that as though you saw me with new eyes. You mustn't... Oh, Lally, see yourself as he can make you. Will it hurt? Will it be much pain? Yes. How long? For one year. Lying down? Strapped on my rack so that you cannot move. Twelve months. And then I shall say, rise up and walk. No more limping, no more lurching, no more crutches, no more boots like clumping hoofs. But you shall dance in Cinderella slippers with your prince. With me, Lally. Oh, Basil, don't I... I can't believe it, or... Oh, I can't. Your father says it's true. He will say it is not true. What? He will believe it is not. But which will you believe? Me or him? I... I don't know. I don't know. This can't be true. Did you believe this man yesterday when he said he could cure you? I... I like to hear it, father. It was so new that it was beautiful. The lies, nothing can be done. Father, he's coming here this morning. I've asked Basil to bring him. I won't see him. He can't touch you without my permission. He can, father, if he has mine. Lally, you don't mean this? I do. Then let me tell you this. For the sake of my patient who trusts me, my reputation, if you choose to put yourself in the hands of an unqualified practitioner, you will have to leave this house and me. I've got my mother's money, and my own. I'll leave today. Lally, did this man hypnotize you? Perhaps. He stirred up all my senses and played on them because he knew. What, Lally? Oh, father, don't you know Basil? I want him. And why not? But he isn't worthy of you if he doesn't know that you've got qualities of mind and soul and... Souls don't count with men in marriage. If you were a lame woman, you'd soon find that out. You don't know what you're saying. All the things that all my life I haven't said. Could you have ever fallen in love with mother if she had been lame? Could you? Don't ask me that. I won't. Because I know. I've known it ever since I read a sentence in a book. Men are more physically particular than women. And it struck me like a blow that that was true. Father Basil can't love me like this, even though he wants to. And I can't blame him. Because I know that if I were a man, I wouldn't want to marry me. I should want a woman beautifully perfect. The sort of woman Basil wants. Oh, father, I could make him marry me for pity if I played on his chivalry. But I can't stoop to conquer. Lally, Lally, why are you so proud? Because my life has been one long unending humiliation. It's crucified my soul. And this man comes and tells me he can take the nails out, lift me from the cross. He can do nothing for you, Lally. He doesn't understand enough of surgery to know he can't. There's nothing known to... But there's the unknown, always. Well, Lally, he's here. Bring him in, Basil. Thank you. Good morning, Mr. D. You know my father? I have had that pleasure. I want you to tell my father what you told me. It won't be necessary. I know what he told you. And I know what you told her. That I am a liar, a fake, a cheat. Yes. And does she believe you? Does she? I can see she does not. She believes me. Lally, tell this man to leave. Do you hear? I can't, father. Then do you believe him? And I believe in God. A God who does things. A God who gives people the power to do them. I'm going to believe. I'm going to. Lally. Father, darling, you're absolutely right. I couldn't stay here. You're going to leave me? Suppose he makes you worse. Then I shall know I never can be better. Never marry. You can be better. Can be well. Listen. I have a house where I've had another patient. Rooms that are vacant now with a balcony that overlooks Regents Park. For you shall be all day, all night long in the open air. And I'll come to see you, Lally, always. Every day. Oh, Basil. That means you'll go? Of course she will. Lally. Father, please understand. I must. I want life. And I can give it to her. Right leg is fastened. Yes, sir. Now the left. There. So. You are comfortable, Mr. Eddie? Yes, thank you. There will be pain. You must try to accustom yourself to it. Turn on the switch. Now. Now you, you feel the pull? You, you feel it? Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Increase on the right. You understand, Madam Clost? Yes, sir. The rack is doing well, Mr. Eddie. I have been gradually strengthening the pull. I could tell. The night seems so much longer now. Five months. You must count by the months. It will not seem so long. Three months. Four months. Five months. But every day has 24 hours. Madam Clost. Yes, sir. Morphing. Oh, Mr. Agassi. Why did you telephone for me? Is she in much pain? She says no. But she's so restless. She must not be. She must lie absolutely still. I told her that. She's been very sad all day. Why? Why is she sad? What is that Mr. Basiloin around here for? Well, he hasn't been here for a few days. Almost a week. Why not? He called. He's been very busy. Busy? That fool. Doesn't he know everything depends on him? Why is she suffering like this if not for him, eh? Call his house. Tell him I want him here tonight. Yes, sir. I've wheeled Mr. D under the balcony. He wants us to watch for him. I'll see her there. Yes, sir. Is that you, Anton? Anton himself. I thought I heard you inside. You recognize my voice, eh? I recognized your language. Who is the fool? Uh, some, uh, some friend of Madame Closte. A man called Richardson. He, he lives in Putney. Why did you come tonight? Well, because I passed here on my way back from the palace. I was dining with the king. It is agreed no lies, eh? No. I came because, uh, Madame Closte phoned me. She said you were restless. So when I met your Mr. Basil Owen downstairs, I told him he must not come up to excite you. Then he did come? Of course he did. He told you that he would. No, he only said he might. And so you wondered if he would, hm? And when a woman wonders if a man will come, she wonders if he loves her. Now you know, eh? Yes. He sends you all his love and a thousand kisses. All his love? All. And says good night, sleep well, and dream of him. You mustn't think he's been neglecting me. He's come every time he could. It's been dreadful for him all these months. Dreadful? To watch your spirit conquer your pain? To see me suffer. He can't stand suffering. A woman should always be beautiful. Should she? You think that, that is the only thing that matters to a man? You're talking like my father. And when I asked him if he could have fallen in love with a cripple. Yes. He wouldn't answer me. And let me answer for him. I tell you, it is possible. I tell you... What? Nothing. You make yourself well for Mr. Basil. You make yourself beautiful and strong. It will be safe. But he wants me. He does want me. Oh, not as much as I want him, perhaps. Because I'm selfish, Anton. But I'm so weak and so tired. I couldn't hold on if I didn't know. If I weren't sure. You will hold on. He will help you. And I, I will help you. I will not leave you now until you go to sleep. You go to sleep, Lale. And dream. Until your dreams come true. You go to sleep. Because they will come true. He will sit beside you. Because he, he loves you. And as the months pass, he will be there, always. And then the time will come, not long. The crocuses begin to push out of the earth like flames. And you too shall rise. How he will love you then. If you will go to sleep now. Because he loves you. He loves you. He loves you. What? Mr. Owen is here. In the living room. Stay with her. If she wakes in pain, give her morphine again. He must sleep for now. Good evening, Mr. Owen. What's the matter? Why'd you call me? The matter is, I shall throw up the case. What? Yes, throw it up. What? Because I will not fail. But I thought you couldn't fail now. You've succeeded. Not everything you want to do, you, you said so yourself. I have done, but nature has not. You must lie here in the imperfect stillness, six months more, till all that I have broken sets binds together, six months. What have you been all week? I've been busy. And I've needed some relaxation. I've called her. You think that's enough? She lies there day after day, waiting for you to come and by heaven you will come. If I have to go out and find you and drag you through the street, take your hands off me. Lally and I understand each other. She knows. She is so weak, she cannot know. She only feels. Feels that you have another woman whirling in your arms. I tell you, I have exhausted all her strengths. Yes, I've wanted to sew fine a thread that if one tear falls on it, it is broken. I would assume that she should, should bleed as cry. I didn't know. I mean, I didn't think. Has it really done any harm? Well, I have not let it. I have told her lovely lies. Got her off to sleep by making love to her. For you. She's asleep? Good. Good. Good. That another man should play the lover to her? What have you in your veins? Red ink and lukewarm water? We can do without that. I stuck it out for six months. You think it was easy? I've gone through hell. I never knew it would be like this. I never dreamed that... and I can't stand suffering. I never could. The water in your blood isn't even lukewarm. Can't stand suffering. And yet you say you love her. You, you do say that. Of course I do. Yes. Then you will come tomorrow morning at 10 o'clock and tell her so. You hear? Yes. But you will say it with conviction. Strongly. Or if you do not. If you fail me, if you make me fail, I will smash every bone within your body into splinters. So you shall be a cripple that no one can cure. Not even Ragazzi. Now, now you can go and relax. Mr. Ragazzi. How is she? She woke up twice. I had to give her the morphine, but it doesn't seem to put her off. She's half unnerved, half awake. She keeps calling for Mr. Owen. I'll see her. You wait outside. Yes, sir. Basil. Basil. Basil, where are you? Basil. Is that you? Is it you, Basil? Yes. I knew you'd come. I tried to stay awake. You. You must sleep now. Stay near me, Basil. I'm afraid. Afraid? Of what? Afraid if you go. I won't get well. Always a cripple. Always. No, no. You will get well. You will be well and strong soon. And I... I will always love you. It makes no difference, Lally Darling. You must believe that. It makes no difference. No matter what happens, I love you. Basil. Basil. You must sleep now. Good night. Aren't you going to kiss me? Good night, Lally. Good night, darling. Station identification. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System. Frederick March and Florence Eldridge resume the events of our play shortly. Tonight, our inside glimpse of Hollywood centers on film cutting. Film editors are to motion pictures what city editors are to newspapers. As the DeMille film editor, Miss Ann Borkins, has helped me make pictures for 25 years. And hers are the only hands apart from my own to which I've entrusted a film cutter's shares. Having gone through more than a million feet of film, Ann is now well equipped to answer the question that is probably first in your minds. What does a film editor do? Well, C.B., I'd say we cut out of a finished picture everything that is not essential to the most effective telling of the story. It's a great deal like putting a jigsaw puzzle together because the last scenes of a picture may be filmed first for production economy and the first scenes filmed last. You get an idea of how much cutting is required when you stop to think that if all the film photograph for souls at sea, for example, were shown, it would take 36 hours to run the picture. The average picture, when cut, runs about 90 minutes. I suppose you editors wonder why we directors don't save you a lot of trouble by shooting only what's good. No, we know that each scene has to be shot from many different angles. Otherwise, the set might have to be rebuilt at great expense if certain close-ups and angles were overlooked. Frequently, some of the best scenes and touches in the picture are the result of gambling a few extra feet of film. There are some things, however, that we can always depend upon to photograph the same, like scenery, properties, or costumes. I can remember the trouble we had years ago when costumes lost their sparkle or faded a little as the months of shooting went by. Complete new wardrobes often had to be made. We've eliminated that great ways today, or I should say the people behind this program have largely eliminated it with Lux Flakes. Lux is the official wardrobe-cared paramount because it keeps costumes looking glamourously fresh for the camera. It's a very rare case when I have to cut a strip of film because of costumes. The contributions of the film editors are not only visual. They also work miracles with sound. And one of our tricks is what we call pinching. That consists of taking the soundtrack of a speech that is delivered too slowly and speeding it up by removing the silent portions between the words. We've also developed another science called dubbing. In Mr. DeMille's picture, the Crusades, two armies of knights and armor rode madly across the field and crashed together while riding in full tilt. We made separate soundtracks of thundering hoofs, clashing armor, shouting men and the rain of blows on shields. Then we fused them all together. The result was that we had a realistic battle seeing filled with many different sounds and yet each sound remained distinct like the instruments of a symphony. That roughly is what the film editor does to make a picture more exciting. And you don't mind, Chief, I'll cut right here. Thanks, Annie. Once again, Frederick March and Florence Eldridge in The Outsider. Six months have dragged wearily by. Months of torture and endless waiting. But at last the rack has completed its work. It's the day of the final test when the large sturdy is to walk for the hospital staff. Ragazzi, excited at the prospect of his triumph, lifts her carefully from the table and carries her to a chair. There, there. Now, now sit up. No, no, no. Don't try to stand. Just sit. I could stand. I know it. But not yet. You must wait for our friend, you know, for the physicians and surgeons who forbade me to practice because I knew no medicine. They shall see. Madam Clust. Yes? Where is that Mr. Basil Owen? Has he called? Not yet. And you call him. Tell him he should be here. Perhaps he's ill. Tell him to come if he's dying. If not, I'll go and bring him dead. Yes, sir. You mustn't go, Anton. You must be here when the doctors come. I won't have your triumph spoiled. I have no triumph if you have not yours. What do you mean? When first you walk, you want to go to Basil Owen, hm? I want him to be here. I also. Why? Because for you and for him, I have made something straight again. Yeah. I've never even thanked you, Anton. Oh, I want no thanks. I shall have glory. Is that all you care about? Yes. It's strange. You've done everything for me. And yet I must have felt it wasn't for me. Because I'll remember what he did when I've forgotten you. He? Basil. Oh. I was afraid for a while in the beginning. I thought he was weakening. And then one night he came to me. After you put me to sleep. And I knew then that he was mine. All mine. He told me it made no difference. That was love, Anton. Real love. For the first time. Yes. Yes, it was. And so because of that love, when you take your first step. I shall go to him. Half past eleven. Why in heaven's name don't they come? Basil, sit down. You're walking around like a caged tiger. I can't help it. I'm nervous. I'm not. Look. See my hand? I don't see how you can be so calm. Because I have faith, Basil. In myself. In Anton. In you. You're so sure. Yes. It's hard to explain, but I am sure. Perhaps it's because I have so little to lose. Because even if I should fail. I could still be happy. Happy? Lily, how can you say that? You said it for me. Remember? It makes no difference, darling. I love you. No matter what happens. I love you. Lily, I don't know what you mean. Well that. That night you came to me. When I was alone. I don't know what you mean, Lily. Basil, you are nervous. You haven't forgotten. Forgotten what? Lily, darling, you. You must have been dreaming. Oh. Oh, I see. If you're afraid, Basil. No, of course not. But. Well. I never said that, Lily. I didn't. You don't have to be so apologetic. I never meant to hold you to it. It was only that. It gave me strength all those months. Just to think you did love me enough. Not to care about it. Lily, please, please. And that's why you're nervous. You're afraid I'll say you. You're afraid you'll be burdened all your life with a cripple. When you needn't worry. You won't be. Lily, listen. You're going to be all right. I just know you are. But. But. Oh, God. Lily, don't make me say it. No, don't. Because I couldn't bear to listen. If only you'd waited, Basil. If only you'd given me the chance. If I did fail to let you go. But the fear within your eyes when you walked in this room. Lily, if I've hurt you. You have. Oh, not because I've lost you. I should have known it was too beautiful. But because just this once. I hoped. He leaves. But someone loved me. Just as I was. Lily. Lily. Darling. Here. Here, gentlemen. Here. Our laboratory. Where we will perform the great experiment. Lily, you're all right. Lily. Yes. Now. Now, gentlemen. You have seen the x-ray plates. You have seen how the bones have been stretched. Now. Now you shall see the final proof. Mr. Dirty has still not taken her first step. We have been waiting for you. Mr. Rowan, will you stand over there, please? No, no, no. In front of her chair. About 10 steps away. There. Now. Now, Mr. Dirty. Take my hand. Stand up slowly. So. Now. Wait evenly on both legs. So. Now. Now let go of my hand. So. Walk over to Mr. Rowan. I. I've forgotten how to. Not since. Not since. No. Right foot. Left foot. Think. Think. What's the matter? Here. Walk. I tell you, walk. Mr. Rowan. Call her. Hold out your arms to her. Call her to you. Lily. Lily. Come to me. I. I can't. I can't. I can't. Stand back. All of you, stand back. Lily. Lily. All of them. Yes. All of them. How do you feel? I feel nothing. Why don't you cry? Why don't you scream and bring down curses on my head? That wouldn't help. It isn't your fault. You tried. And I failed you. Twelve months of torture. Twelve months. And you don't hate me. No, I'm done. Come in. Dr. Sturdy is here. Father. Lily. Oh, Father. Lily, my darling, don't cry. Don't cry, darling. You. You know. They just told me. That Ragazzi has failed. Yes. I have sent it to the papers myself. Mr. Ragazzi. It was not necessary. You think I cannot take my medicine? That I am finished? Oh, no. No, you can tell your doctor friends with notebooks that I'll begin again tonight. I found out the doctors know something that I do not. So I shall become a doctor myself. Yes. To find the way to cure Lily. What if you have found it? Father. What did you say? Mr. Ragazzi. You have taught me how to cure my daughter. How to cure her? I have seen your x-rays. I know now what we can do. Father, don't say it. Just to make me feel. It's true, Lily. You'll walk again. You will. Oh, God. Lily. Then. Then it has not all been wasted. It's just beginning. She'll owe it all to you, Mr. Ragazzi. Thank you. Thank you, doctor. I would like to feel I. I did something. I'm going to take her home now. I'll have the car brought around. Anton. I leave you alone. No, please. I hate to leave here. Somehow. It will be better. You will be happy again. He will return to you. Father. Yes. He will come back when he knows. Do you think I want him? As he is. As he is. As he was always. I never loved him, Nin. I loved someone else. Who? Who, Lily? A man who spoke to me in a dream. A man who came to me that night. Who held me in his arms. Held me to him. Soul and body. That man never would have left me. But there is no man like that. There is. Oh, darling. I love you. It makes no difference. No matter what happens. I love you. Wait. Oh, wait. That night. Was it a dream? No. It was the truth. Goodbye, Lily. Don't go. Don't go, Anton. You were there. It was you that night. Yes. Oh, Anton. Don't stand up. Anton, hold out your arms for me. Call me to you. Call me, Anton. Are you. Are you really walking? Yes. To you. Walking to you, Anton. Our play ends, but not our stars' performances. A little later, we'll hear again from Frederick March and Florence Eldridge. Each week, we try to bring you as guests someone of particular interest. Tonight, we've been unusually successful. Standing beside me now is a man whose life work parallels that of Anton Ragazzi to a startling degree. The friended 38 years ago by a cripple, he resolved to devote himself to the help of other such unfortunates. Never having been to school, he was not equipped to enter a medical college, and so developed his own methods. Though not a physician, he is founder and head of the Milton H. Berry Institute for Paralysis Correctment, located near Hollywood. Its directors include the famous author Rupert Hughes and Fred Stone, the noted actor. Through our play, we learned of a man who dared to aid the hopeless when all usual efforts failed. Such a man as our guest, Milton H. Berry. Thank you, Mr. DeMille, and permit me to state that I am not a doctor. I'm a teacher. My institute is a school, not a hospital. Those who come to me are not looked upon as patients. They are pupils. From my friend Rupert Hughes, I've learned some amazing things concerning your work. Of little children who've come to you helplessly crippled. Of men and women whose spines have been broken in automobile accidents, brought back to health for normal activity. Of Mary Blackford, the Hollywood actress, who was paralyzed from the neck down, but now can lift her hands above her head and walk several hundred feet. How, Mr. Berry, are these things brought about? One must thoroughly understand the action of muscles of live bodies. The laws that govern the mechanics of local motion and be able to apply them to the individual case. Before you can train the mind to concentrate with sufficient force to re-educate impaired muscles, the physical energies of the body must be developed. At some time in your career, Mr. Berry, something must have happened. Some case must have arisen that made you feel you had discovered a successful method for re-educating damaged muscles. What was that case? Yes, it did happen. Many years ago in Des Moines, Iowa, it concerned a young woman completely paralyzed from the waist down. A dozen doctors gave me their diagnosis of her case and told me I was crazy to think she would ever walk again. I did not blame them in the least. What did matter was the fact that four months later, several thousand people gathered in front of a Des Moines hospital and saw that woman walk unaided. Since then, I have helped over 2,000 infantile paralysis cases and 400 victims of other types of paralysis. It's not that I doubt what you've told us, Dr. Mr. Berry, but assuming that it is true, why aren't your methods practiced everywhere? Remember, Mr. Demille, I had been but one lone man practicing this method until I taught it to my son, Milton Jr. and Mr. Marion French. Our foundation, which is strictly nonprofit, was formed for the purpose of establishing a larger school to teach this method to qualify young men and women who, in turn, can go to centers of population and do just as we've been doing at the Berry Institute. Until the plans of the foundation are complete, I am limited to 100 cases at one time. On behalf of those 100 children and young adults, now under my care, let me thank you and the Lux Radio Theater for the splendid entertainment you bring them every Monday night. We've been happy to have you here, Mr. Berry. To Mr. and Mrs. Frederick March, I owe a debt of gratitude to Miss Eldridge for helping me interest her husband in the role of Jean Lafitte and to Fred for the superb characterization he's giving Lafitte in the Buccanea. For such great material, CB, it's pretty hard to miss. Like most people, I only knew Lafitte as a pirate, as an American hero. You know, it was a revelation to me to find out that unless he'd plunged in with men and ammunition to help Andrew Jackson and his cat-at-army at the Battle of New Orleans, all of America west of the Mississippi might now be part of Canada. One of Lafitte's most exciting exploits and amusing occurred when Governor Claiborne offered a reward of $500 for him, dead or alive. Lafitte was so indignant that the small amount he rode around New Orleans posting offers of $10,000 and that Buccanea was the only pirate in history who saved a nation. There never has been a more mysterious figure no one really knows where he came from or where he went after his career in America was over. He was resourceful and brilliant and a romantic man with all the color of a fiction hero. The Buccanea is the answer to an actor's prayer. You remember the old saying in the theater, CB, fat parts make fat actors. Speaking of the theater, what about this play the marches are going to do? It's called The Christian Hero, Mr. DeMille. Based on the life of Sir Richard and Lady Steele. You mean the Sir Richard Who with Joseph Addison wrote the spectator and the tatler? That's right. John Cromwell is going to direct and we hope to open on Broadway around Christmas time. Playing here tonight has certainly given us the itch to get back to the stage. I hope it'll be as much fun. We'll miss you both in Hollywood. But my wish is that the play will have a record-breaking rung. To both of you, a great success. Thank you, CB. Good night. When Edna Fairbaugh wrote Cimarron, she enriched modern literature and the screen with one of the most compelling stories ever dedicated to the Romantic West. Our adaptation of that story awaits you next Monday night. Had we personally asked each one of you, whom above all others, would you choose for the spirited role of Yancy Cravat, I feel certain your decision would be identical with our own. So we bring you Clark Gable. Starring with Mr. Gable, Virginia Bruce, and a special guest, Miss Edna Fairbaugh. Our sponsors, the makers of Lux Flakes, join me in inviting you to be with us in the next episode of Cimarron. Mr. Lux Flakes joined me in inviting you to be with us again next Monday night. When the Lux Radio Theatre presents Clark Gable and Virginia Bruce in Cimarron. This is Cecil B. DeMille saying good night to you from Hollywood. Reach to follow your attention this week to the Silk Parade, a brilliant feature in your local stores. It offers a colorful pageant of rich displays and timely hints on the latest fall fashions. Good silks are amazingly durable and most of them are safe in water alone, but you can trust them to gentle Lux Flakes. So you are being thrifty as well as fashionable when you wear silks in this season of elegance. Your announcer has been Melville Rui. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System.