 Look, presents Hollywood. Gene Crane and Humalo in Hollywood, ladies and gentlemen. If anyone in our audience graduated from high school without experiencing a severe case of puppy love, well, I'm very much surprised. And if you think back to those days right now, I imagine you would be inclined to laugh at representing a deadly, serious one, Gene Crane. And as a costar, talented Humalo. Yes, teenagers take life very seriously, and we're glad they do. Because one of the problems they're concerned about is a good complexion. And lovely mothers everywhere can recommend their own luxe toilet soap care to their daughters, because they know luxe soap is a perfect beauty care for lovelier complexions. Now, the curtain rises on Margie, starring Gene Crane in the title role and Humalo as Mr. Fontaine with Jane Darwell as grandma. Any Saturday afternoon, and in the attic of a pleasant little house in the pleasant little town, a young mother and her teenage daughter are rummaging through a dusty collection of trunks and boxes. The daughter has discovered an old phonograph and a carton of records. Can you imagine, mother? The phonograph actually still works. Well, after all, dear, it's not quite a man's piece yet. You used to have to wind this thing every time you wanted to play a record? Oh, we put up with a lot of hardships in those days. My goodness, when you look at these. What are they? Just an old pair of bloomers I used to wear. Gee, they're hideous. I mean, well, they're so bulky. Well, they were quite a problem now and then. Mother, tell me all about the terrific things you did when you were my age. Well, I went to Central High School just like you were doing. But I'm not so sure a terrific event of 1928 will seem so terrific to you in 1951. Oh, mother, now you're just being difficult. Well, all right, then. Let's look at my old photograph album. Now here, this is a picture of Johnny Green. Oh, for Corrin's sake, who thought that thing he's wearing? By a raccoon coat, of course. He was the only boy in school with a raccoon coat and his studs blackhawk. What? It was a kind of automobile, dear. Oh, you went for him, huh? Oh, I went for him all right. But it was Marybell who had him hog-tied. Marybell? Uh-huh. She used to live next door to it. Well, anyway, one day after school was out. If you keep me waiting like this again... I'll have a banana oil. Get in the car. Oh, I promise we take Margie home, too. For crying out loud, do we always have to drag Margie Macduff along? Well, I can't help it. After all, she does live next door to me. Boy, what a pain in the neck. Hey, did you see the new French teacher? Yeah, I saw him. Is he good-looking? His name's Fontaine. Look, if Margie don't show up in two minutes, we're going to... There she is. Hi, Margie! What are you about? Not so loud. Huh? Do you have a safety pin, Marybell? What do you want a safety pin for? The elastic in my bloomers. It just broke. I've got one in my purse. Take him away. Here's the safety pin. You want us to wait for you? No, just go on home. And if you dare tell Johnny Green what's the matter, I'll kill you. I won't. Goodbye, Margie. Where's she going? Margie just decided to wait for something. Well, what's she waiting for, the fall? Well, because I didn't got her. What's the matter, Margie? Anything wrong? Do that. What? Go around with safety pins in your mouth. I knew a kid once who swallowed a safety pin. Well, I wish you'd go home to do in the library. Okay, I'll go with you. No. So funny for Margie. Anything I can do? I picked him up in a minute, Miss Palmer. I want to go over there in the corner. Well, what's over there in the corner? I've got a hitch-up on my political philosophy. Of course, dear. Run along. Thank you. And how does our new French teacher like Central High? Oh, very much. You should see my classes standing room only, Isabel. I've never heard of such a passion to acquire French. Ah, girls mostly, I suppose. The girls think you're just too darling for words. Oh, come on now, Isabel. Cut it out. Say, this is, uh, quite a nice library you've got here. Uh, well, would you like a book? Yes, yes, I would. Help yourself, Ralph. We still talk the faculty. Thank you. Hello. Ah! What's the matter? Well, nothing. I just didn't know you were there. Well, I didn't know you were there either. Till I took these books off the shelves, then I saw you on the other side of the rack. Do you like poetry, too? Yes. Isn't there poetry on your side? Uh-uh. Political philosophy. Oh, I see. Oh, but I'm all finished with what I came in here for. Goodbye, Mr. Fontaine. Wait a minute. You're, you're in one of my classes, aren't you? Yes, Mr. Fontaine. Ah, do you two know each other? Oh, yes, Isabel. Oh, uh, I call Miss Palmer Isabel. We've been good friends for some time. Margie's our champion debater. Oh, we're very proud of her, while she's the youngest student in the class. Well, that's fine. As a matter of fact, Margie, the principal asked me to be the chairman of the next debate. That's Wednesday, isn't it? Yes, Mr. Fontaine. Well, uh, well, if you'll excuse me now, I'm trying to find a certain volume of work. Well, why is a long face, Margie? Why did you have to tell him that I'm a debater and younger than other people? Callie, when a person hates another person for practically the first time, she doesn't want to be known as a debater and younger than other people. Oh, but I'm sure he'll appreciate you being so smart. Don't you think he's cute? I don't know. I don't generally notice how teachers look. Well, he is cute. Uh, your books are on my desk, Margie. Good night, dear. Good night, Miss Palmer. Figured if I sat there long enough, you'd come out sometime. Well, you're very nice to carry my books, Roy. Oh, that's okay. Say, when you came out of the library, who was that that opened the door for you? Mr. Fontaine, the new French teacher. What did he want? Well, he merely happened to open the door for me. I don't trust Frenchmen. He is in French. Well, then why does he teach it? Oh, Roy, sometimes you act just like... Look, that's Papa. Huh? That's awful. What's awful? That car that just went by, that was my father. I miss seeing him. You know, Margie, I've been to your house several times now, and I've never even met your father. Well, he doesn't live with us. Huh? Why doesn't he? I mean, are your folks divorced or something? Of course not. My mother died when I was a baby. Well, ever since I lived with my grandmother. Well, doesn't your grandmother like your father or something? Of course she does. It's only... Well, for goodness' sake, Roy, I don't see how it's any of your business. Okay, okay. Papa was all broken up when my mother died, and he went away for a long time. And then when he came back, he just started living by himself, and, oh, it's better that way, too, because, after all, what does a businessman know about girls? Oh. Papa's a very wonderful man, and we're very fond of each other, and he has a terrific business, so we can't always see each other all the time. So we try to see each other on Wednesday afternoon. Oh. Of course, he pays for everything, but... Well, I mean, Papa's a widower. Yeah, he would be. I mean, if your mother... Yeah. Of course, I see what you mean. Well, come on, Roy. I've got to get home sometime. A lot of walking home with me, Roy. I guess you better be going now, huh? Goodbye. Oh, I'm in no hurry. Oh. Well, would you like to come in and say hello to my grandmother? Oh, sure. Why not? Okay, wait here in the porch a second. I know Grandma, but I couldn't help it. You see, I was standing there. Yes, I know. Marybell stopped by and told me. I told you a dozen times to fix those rumors. Naturally, they fell down. Grandma, please. He's on the porch. Who's on the porch? You can come in, Roy. Hello, Mrs. McSweeney. Come on in, Roy. Oh, thanks, Mrs. McSweeney. You know, I've been meaning to ask you about your fireplace here in the living room. What's the matter with that fireplace? Oh, I don't mean the fireplace. I mean that old lock and chain hanging up there in the mantle. Young man, I lashed myself to the railing of the White House with that lock and chain. It took four cops and a hacksaw to prime me loose. I spent two days in jail. She raised what for? For a very noble cause. Young man, I was campaigning for the right of women to vote. They called her suffragettes. Oh, yeah, I read about that. My father says a woman's place is in the home. A woman's place is wherever she makes it. Now, I've raised Margie to take a deep interest in politics. And someday, I hope she'll be the first woman president of the United States. Oh. Grandma, please. Well, Roy, I know you're in a dreadful hurry to get home. It's so frightfully late. Well, goodbye, Roy. Call her once again, young man. Yeah. Well, goodbye, Mrs. McSweeney. Margie. I'm sorry. You have to rush off. Oh, I don't have to go yet. Well, thanks again, Roy. Please stand. Goodbye. Oh, Grandma. What's the matter with you? Don't you understand? I don't want to be the first woman president of the United States. Well, for heaven's sakes, why not? Not even if you paid me. I wish you wouldn't keep telling that to people. Oh, now, now, honey, what's wrong? Well, First Miss Palmer tells people that I'm a debater and younger than other people. And then you have to go and tell Roy that you were chained to the White House and sent to jail. And then about meeting the first woman president. Oh, we'll probably never come back. I bet a cookie phoned you right after dinner. Do you think so? Grandma, in your opinion, is Roy's Adam's apple very noticeable? Why, no, dear. No, you're just being nice. You can't help noticing it. I guess it hit you right in the eye. Oh, well. I guess Roy's better than nobody. Oh, well, now you wouldn't want a silly, dain-conceited boy like Johnny Green for a bowl, would you? Johnny. Oh, yes. Yes, Grandma. I certainly would. Now, you should just listen to that photograph of yours. Oh, I'm working, Cynthia. Your grandma says it's time you was in bed. How am I like that for? I'm rehearsing my gesture. You ain't rehearsing, honey. You shatterboxing. Cynthia, do you know anything about Frenchmen? All I know they eat frog legs and snails. Oh, I'm sure need to find a scene with me, snails. Oh, hairy girl in school. I've got to crush on him already. Including you. Well, I've got more sense than to get a crush on a teacher. That chance on them, anyway. Cynthia, do you think a woman could learn to love a man with an Adam baffle? Well, a friend of mine who's got a garden. She's got seven gypsies. Oh, come on here at the window, Miss Margin. Look down there. What? There on Marybell's porch. She and that raccoon coat boy. My mother, the kissing couple. Been at it most of the evening. I know. You've been peeking, too? Of course not. I only meant, well, anyway, how can people waste their time like that? Why, I think it's disgusting. Well, good night, Miss Margin. Good night, Cynthia. Not noticeable. Not when Roy wears a high collar. Showing ice skating after the debate. Grandma, do you suppose... Do you suppose maybe Papa would come and hear me debate? I mean, it is Wednesday anyway. I mean, it's going to the high school instead of here. And he could hear me debate. I think it's a wonderful idea. Then ask him, Grandma. Call him up now. Who are you, nothing of the sort? You stopped by his office. Now, ask him yourself. But I don't think Papa likes having me stop in his office. He's always so busy. Oh, rubbish. Now, you do as I say. Well, all right. And don't forget, Grandma, the high school auditorium is free. You sure are quiet, Margin. Golly, don't worry about your father. You left a message for him, didn't you? Yeah. It wasn't his fault he wasn't in his office. Sure is funny, Margin. I never knew your father was an undertaker. He's a mortician. And what's so funny about it? Well, I... Well, I'm sure it's a very interesting business. And I bet it's a good business, too. I mean, uh, people... She lives. People are always dying. He can't help being in the business he's in. Oh, it's all right. I don't mind. Honour. Yes, you do everybody mind. I mind. I'd give anything on Earth if he was just a bricklayer or something. Well, Margie, do you... Do you suppose he'll come over to the school and hear you debate? How do I know? Papa can hardly plan anything. It's just like you said. People are always dying. Just heard Miss Margie McDuck, captain of the Central High Debating Team. Here for the negative is Mr. Arnold Harrison of Polytechnic High School. Hello, judges. We're the opponents and ladies and gentlemen. My worthy opponents of Central High Orders have spoken to you of the high costs of keeping the Marines in their garage. The cost. Yes, ladies. Boy, oh boy, Marybell, I had about all of this I can stand. Look where we go, journey. Ice skating. But we can. We're supposed to stay in the auditorium and listen. Well, not me. Anyway, the orchestra doesn't start at the skating rink till 4 o'clock. Well, we'll just stand here in the quarter then. If I go back in that auditorium, I'll fall asleep. Somebody's coming. I beg your pardon. You're there to be going on in there. And how? Thank you, young man. Thank you very much. Can you imagine somebody wanting to hear that stuff? Do you know who that was? Who? Margie's father. Mr. Angus McDuff. He's an undertaker. Poor Margie. A grandmother who's nuts and an undertaker for a father. Oh, you. We are now the record of the Nicaraguan people during the 10 years preceding the arrival of our Marines with the notable achievements since made in that troubled land. Why as far back as 1900, ladies? Once again in rebuttal, Ms. Margie McDuff. The argument that our opponents have been able to advance this afternoon is that American occupation will raise the standard of living of the Nicaraguans and enable them to buy American plumbing. Ladies and gentlemen, would you turn in liberty for a vast portion in the heart of America? If we can say, give us liberty or give us death, then we have no right to tell the people of Nicaragua that they should take bath hubs instead of freedoms. Ladies and gentlemen, we fought in 76 in 1860 and in 1918 to make the world safe for democracy. And we do it again and again. Ever forget our brave past. Don't let the flag of the United States leave bath hubs and plumbing instead of liberty in Nicaragua and bring them home to defend liberty always, but never plumbing. Thanks. Margie, you are wonderful. Jamie, he's here. My father's here. Where, Margie? Where? In the foreshore with my grandma and Mr. Fontaine. Being here and watching those children ice skate, I'd mind to rent a pair myself. Well, are you glad you came, Mr. Fontaine? I wouldn't have missed it for anything. And I might easily have, Mr. McSweeney, if you hadn't introduced yourself at school. I had to introduce myself. Margie's got a crush on you. Well, Mr. McDuff, your daughter's almost as good a skater as she is a debater. You know, Margie would look awfully nice in a skating outfit like Maribel Teller. There, by your own grandma, by your own. Just send me the bill. You approve of a young girl exposing her bare legs, Mr. Fontaine? I certainly do. Always keep in mind, Mrs. McSweeney, that I studied in Paris, France. She's right. She's right to try and write. Angus, what are you mumbling about? We should take the Marines out of Nicaragua. She's absolutely right. Yes, sir. I like my congressman about it. Good. Why don't we send the Marines down there in the first place? You tell me that, sir. You just tell me that. Terrible ice skater, Margie. Maybe when they play a slower tune, I'll do better. You're doing beautifully, Roy. Isn't it fun? No. Look. Look at Maribel and Johnny. Oh, they do skate divinely. A couple of show-offs. Gosh, Margie, that sure was a swell speech you made this afternoon. Why, thank you, Roy. And you look... Well, you look so sort of intense and full of fire. Golly, I did. Hi, Margie. Hello, Roy. Hello, Maribel. It's me. I survived. Oh, hello, Johnny. I am mixed up. Well, I won't be long, Johnny. Where's she going? She's got to get another late-first shoe. Oh. Well... Just don't stand there, Johnny. You just see Margie wants you to skate with her. Oh, he's silly, Roy. But he doesn't want to skate with me. Oh, I don't mind. Come on, McDuff. Why, why Johnny? Why don't we let the Nicaraguans mind their own business? Oh, forget it, Angus. Look at your daughter. She's skating with that Johnny Green. She's waving at us. I'm skating. Something's wrong with Margie. Well, she's holding her stomach. Oh, I... What's the matter, Margie? Are you sick or something? No. Just go away. Johnny, please. But if you don't feel good, you better hang on to me. Hey, Maribel. I'm coming. I've got to sit down. Here? On the ice? I've got to. Hey, go away. Margie, just stand in front of me. Oh, please. Margie, you're losing something. I know. I never did fix them. Well, I do. Gosh, I don't know. Mr. Cumming, your grandma and your father, Mr. Fontaine. Mr. Fontaine. Gee, are you lucky? Hey, what's happening? Is she maybe hurt? I'll get a doctor. Now, just relax, Angus. I've got a muffler. I can bind her ankle, temporarily, at least. Margie, stop squirming. What are you looking for? I'm here, Grandma. Well, Grandma? My bloomers? Your what? Grandma. Well, where are they? I'm sitting on them. I think. But if I get out, it'll be our head on the stage. Maybe while Daddy and Mr. Fontaine are fixing my ankle, I can sort of slip them into your coat. Hurry up. Get ready, Grandma. I... Grandma! They're gone! Gone? What do you know? Well, now, Angus, I think you and Mr. Fontaine better get a doctor after all. I wasn't at all full. But I can't figure out what happened to her, Marybell. She was skating fine, and all of a sudden, she kind of lost her equilibrium. You said it, Johnny. Her best embroidered went too. In just a few moments, we'll return with Act Two of Margie. And now here's our Hollywood reporter, Libby Collins, with the luck-moving news of the week. Tonight, John, it's 20th Century Fox's lively new comedy, Love Nest. Take an ex-G.I. who wants to be a writer. Put him and his wife into a rundown rooming house she has purchased, and Love Nest turns into a nest of rioters' troubles. Put in two comedy players, like William Lundigan and Joan Haver as the G.I. and his wife, and you've got a riot of laughs. Well, the picture is just that. William Lundigan is beset by rent-dodging tenants and plumbing bills piling up when suddenly a former army buddy arrives. She's Miss Marilyn Monroe. A whack. Uh-oh. Not the pun, but the situation must get very wacky. Especially with Frank Fay also present, as an elderly Casanova pursuing wealthy widows. The picture is one to see. Miss Haver is splendid in her first great comedy role. Two gorgeous blondes like June and Marilyn in one picture is certainly a treat for moviegoers. Ah, yes. They're two of Hollywood's prettiest luxe girls. Both of them with really luxe, lovely complexions. Naturally. Nine out of ten screen stars depend on this gentle complexion soap for the care their skin needs. And luxe in the big bath size is a Hollywood favorite too. It makes such a luxurious beauty bath. As June Haver says, luxe fragrance is so delicate and it clings so long. Yes, the rich fragrant lather makes you sure of skin that's sweet, fresh all over. Now, here's a tip right from Hollywood. Why don't you try the generous satin smooth bath cake? Even in hardest water, the lather is quick, rich and creamy. And luxe lather is active, gentle but so thorough. It leaves your skin softer and smoother. Luxe lovely all over. Discover why nine out of ten screen stars use luxe toilet soap. Now, Mr. William Keely, our producer. Act two of Margie, starring Jean Crane as Margie and you, Marlowe, as Mr. Fontaine. Sleep 1928 for a moment and return to the attic in the pleasant little house where the young Bobby's doctor continues to press her mother for the secrets of her youth. Now, Mother, you mean to say you lost your bloomers and sound of all those people at the skating rink? I'm afraid I did, darling, but I was hoping desperately to know and besides Grandma and Marybell, knew the awful truth. The others had a vague idea that I'd sprained my ankle or something. Apart from the bloomers, I had had a very happy day. Well, Margie, you certainly had a big day. Oh, how wonderful day, Grandma. You go losing your best bloomers, wonderful? I know, but I did get to skate with Johnny Green and Papa came to the debate and Mr. Fontaine. And Papa stayed for dinner and kissed me goodnight twice. I'm afraid you've got your father all worked up over Nicaragua. He seems very interested. I still wonder what happened to your bloomers. They couldn't have walked away. Oh, Grandma, please, let's not talk about it. I'll never be able to face anyone again. Now, who are hers? It couldn't be Roy. Oh, maybe it's just Marybell. Who is he, Cynthia? That's Mrs. McSweeney and Mrs. Fontaine. Oh, no, no. Oh, Grandma, look at me in my bathroom. Well, come on in, Mr. Fontaine. How busy you are. I mean, this afternoon might have... Well, how nice of you to stop by. Good evening, Mrs. McSweeney. Hello, Margie. I just happened to be taking a walk and it occurred to me to drop in and see how the infallid was getting along. Well, how is your ankle, Margie? It's fine. It hardly hurts at all. Well, I'm delighted. After all, it would certainly be a shame not to be able to go to the prom next week because of a sprained ankle. Have a chair, Mr. Fontaine. Oh, thank you. Margie, if your foot's really better, why don't you go to your room and get Mr. Fontaine's muffler? Oh, yes. It was really very nice of you to bind my ankle with your lovely muffler, Mr. Fontaine. Oh, Margie, just a minute. Here. A package for me? Yes. In the excitement this afternoon, I believe you... I believe you lost your handkerchief. Oh, uh-huh. I'll get your muffler. Handkerchief, Mr. Fontaine? Well... That was very tactful. Thank you. Remember, Mrs. McSweeney, I studied in Paris, France. Kiss from a gentleman friend. He doesn't go around thriving about what it is. Oh, is there anyone else who'd ask him about Roy Hornsdale? But what if he does? Mr. Fontaine, oh, God! I'm not going to the prom grandma. That was Roy on the phone just now. Oh, he's got the sniffles again. This is household this time. His folks won't let him go. Oh, well, it doesn't matter. I just as soon stay home. Well, Marybell's going to the prom of Johnny. I'm sure they'd be glad to take you along. Without an escort, I'd rather die. Besides, Johnny doesn't like me tagging along even to come home from school. Look out the window. She's coming here. Who? Marybell. Margie, 20 years from now, you look at Johnny Green and you wonder what you ever saw in him. 20 years from now, I'll be an old woman and it won't matter. Oh, she just bloated over here. Don't you dare tell her... What for, Belle? Margie, I just simply had to come with you. I bet you've been holding out on me right along with him. Not with Mr. Fontaine. Hey, you better get back. I'm going to take a bubble bath, and it's simply terrific perfume I have, which absolutely is guaranteed to intoxicate men by its fragrance. Goodbye, my... What are you waiting special to do tonight? We're merging your interest with Margie. She's had her heart set on going to the high school prom tonight. Only this boy she will go on with can't make it. Well, who cares? Now, don't be late at 8 o'clock and don't you dare show up about a corsage. Well, Margie... Margie likes gardenias, doesn't she? Gardenias, my foot. Orchids. Three orchids. Grandma, if you call someone and made him take me, I'll never forgive you. He's called me. He's admirer of yours. It's not Joe Kelly, Grandma. He's only 15 and his hands are always clammy. He's much older than 15. Do you remember that bubble bath I gave you for Christmas? Of course. Would you let me use a little? Mary-Belle's taking a bubble bath, and she says it simply intoxicates men with its exotic fragrance, and so I... Oh, help yourselves on it. But hurry up. Grandma, do you think I look... sophisticated? Well, yes, for your ease. I'll go down. Grandma, who is it? You've simply got to tell me. Oh, you'll find out. He's on time, anyway. Don't worry, honey. As soon as she's downstairs, I'll go down too and take a peek. I'll tell you who it is. Mr. Fontaine? I hope you'll excuse me, but I was driving by. Oh, you're so nice in your tuxedo, Mr. Fontaine. Oh, thank you. And that corsage is lovely. Well, I'm about to call from Miss Palmer. You know the school librarian? I'm taking her to the prom tonight. I just thought I'd leave this for Margie. It's her French theme. She was anxious to know what grade I'd given her. What grade did you give her? Oh, eh, of course. Margie's an exceptionally bright child, Mrs. McSweeney. An enchanting child, I might add. Child? Indeed. Oh, I doubt if you're eight years older. Well, frankly, I did lie a little bit about my age to get on the faculty here. Well, uh, I suppose Margie is going to the prom. Uh, who's taking her? Her father. Well, just between us. I wish I were. You know, it's a very strange thing. I mean, Margie, that Frenchman. My, my, he dressed up and with flowers, too. But it can't be, Mr. Fontaine. And dear, do you suppose Grandma bribed him to take me on a con? I didn't have anyone else. Oh, she don't need no bribe, honey. He's a young man, ain't he? And you're a pretty girl, ain't you? Child, I can tell you that all along. Do you really think he likes me? Oh, I've had a crush on him ever since the day he came to Central High. My diary's simply full of insensia. Well, it looks like a two-way crush to me, honey. Now go on down down there. Good evening. And how pretty you look. Thank you. You look very pretty, too. I, I mean, you look... Excuse me, the telephone. Oh, what a beautiful person. You might help her if you'd love me if you'd bring me flowers. Margie, I, I don't think that... Oh, they're just beautiful. Margie, this French theme of yours, you'll be glad to know that... Well, as a matter of fact... Excuse me a second, Mr. Fontaine. Oh, I know I'm going to wake up and find out this is all just a dream. Margie, you, you don't understand. No, Helen. Mrs. McSweeney. Tell me, I know. She thinks you're taking her. What am I going to do? Well, it's all my fault, but you've simply got to think of something. And mine is a meal, Miss Helen. Oh, that's a big gorgeous. Look, Helen, I have to find out. Mr. Fontaine's waiting for me. Uh-huh. Okay, I'll see you at the prom. Goodbye. Helen thought I couldn't go to the prom, brain, monoconner, Royce, tonsils. Oh, and I told her you were taking you, Mr. Fontaine, but she was just, just speechless. Oh, this card, this card on my croissant. Margie. I'm going to put it in my scrapbook and keep it forever. You don't understand. I'll leave it. What? Miss Palmer? I'm sorry, Margie. That's what I was trying to explain. I stopped by merely to leave your French theme. It, it's excellent. Thank you. Margie. Let her go. Oh, this is terrible. I'll call Miss Palmer up and explain. She'll understand. No, you just run along, Mr. Fontaine. Margie wouldn't go with you now in a million years. Amazing I'd be seen in a, at a prom with a teacher, do you? But didn't he bring you a corset? I pretended to think they were for me, just to, just to see what he would do. And he was so fast and so embarrassed that it was all I could do to keep from, to keep. Here's my guest for tonight, Miss Eileen Christie. She's petite, she's blonde, and she has a glorious singing voice. Well, thank you, Mr. Keely. I've studied singing and drama since I was a child in San Francisco. You've appeared in Civic Opera there, and you won, I understand, first place in the National Atwater Count Auditions. But I've never once sung in pictures. My screen rolls have all been dramatic. You know, as a student of drama, I'm tremendously impressed with James Mason's performance in The Desert Fox. That's the documentary film, 20th Century Fox, has just released. The story of German Field Marshal Rommel, the man who defied Hitler. Yes, indeed. I saw the picture, and I was fascinated watching the wily Desert Fox from the time of his North African defeat up to his murder for the plot to assassinate Hitler. Cedric Hardwick also is excellent as another of the conspirators. Yes, and Jessica Tandy is Rommel's wife. The only woman in the cast comes in for plenty of attention. Well, Miss Tandy always commands attention. You know, she's such a natural beauty with a complexion where it certainly looks lovely. Yes, she's a real luxe girl, and her enthusiasm for luxe is one I certainly share. You're very wise, Eileen. Girls with luxe lovely complexions seem to get ahead in Hollywood. Any girl anywhere, Mr. Kennedy, should learn what luxe soap facials can do for skin. And they're so easy. You simply cream the rich lather well in, then rinse with warm water and splash with cold. Pat with a soft towel to dry, and you'll love the way your skin feels. So soft and so smooth. Thank you, Eileen Christie. Ladies, luxe active lather is thorough but gentle. Naturally, this daily care really makes skin lovelier. Try using Hollywood's own beauty soap tomorrow. You'll discover you can be luxe lovely. You'll know why 9 out of 10 screen stars use fragrant white luxe toilet soap. We pause now for station identification. This is the CBS Radio Network. The curtain rises on Act 3 of Margie, starring Jean Crane as Margie and you, Marleau, as Mr. Fontaine, with Jane Darwell as Grandma. Once again, we swing briefly back to the present time, where, upstairs in the attic, mother and daughter combed through events of 20 years ago. From the album or photograph, Joyce has just taken a picture. Her mother smiles reflectively as she looks at it. Yes, Joyce. This is a picture of the 1928 high school prom. Oh, and you're not even there. Gee, what an awful break, not being able to go to the prom. Oh, but I did go. And there's my picture. See? That's you? Golly. But who bought you? Well, about 10 minutes after Mr. Fontaine had left the house, two other gentlemen arrived on our front porch. One of them was Roy Hornsdale. You big duff. Good evening, dig. Good evening, young man. Good evening. Gosh, is that your car? That log black livid bead? It's one of my cars, yes. Gosh. How come your colleague got bargey on Saturday? A man does not call on his daughter. And I'd like to know what business it is of yours, what day of the week I come here? Well, bargey says you always call weddies. You bring her flowers? Yes. Hey, you're that bring her flowers left over from the... Niko Agua, that very aptly describes a person of your ill manners. What am I wasting my time talking to you for? Who are you anyway? I'm Roy Hornsdale. She wears Mr. McDuff, don't you remember me? I was at the skating rick the afternoon that bargey heard her ankle. Oh. Hasn't she told you about me? No. And either you ring that doorbell or let me. Oh, she's a wonderful girl, Mr. McDuff. I'm well aware of that fact. I was supposed to take her to the prom tonight, but... I got a cold. Then go to bed. My folks said I could come over as long as we didn't go out and I kept warm. Doesn't anyone believe in coming in? What is this, a convention? Hello, Grandma. What are you doing here, Roy? Good evening, Mrs. McSweetie. I figured since Margie's not going to the prom that I'd come over here and... What makes you think she's not going to the prom? Huh? Cynthia, take Roy into the kitchen and get him some hot milk or something. Bill! Bill! I should explain, but I haven't got time. Margie's been crying. Now, don't ask why. Just be very tactful. Tactful? Did that sniveling boy in there make her cry? Oh, no, no, Roy's quite innocent. Well, come on down. All right, dear you. You look beautiful. Simply beautiful. All right, thank you. Grandpa, you're all dressed up. Yes, you wouldn't want him to go to the prom in the business suit, would you? He's taking you. That's the big surprise. Honestly, Papa, you're taking me. Are you sure you want to? Honey, I've waited over 16 years for the privilege. Here. Papa's three or a kid. All right. Hope you won't be disappointed, Margie. I'm not a very good dancer. Oh, Papa, I'd rather be going to the dance with you than anyone else in the whole world. Excuse me while I get my coat. Well, Angus, what are you thinking? I was thinking, Grandma, that my daughter is just as pretty and every bit as sweet as yours ever was. I'm ready, Papa. Good night, Grandma. Good night, dear. She with us, Margie, going out. She's gone out. I'm going to read poetry to her. Who am I going to read poetry to, Belle? Cynthia? Not to me. He ain't Mr. Horne's dear. And finish your milk. What happened was a wonderful rate for me. And, anyway, let's see if we can find a table, then. But how come Margie came with her old man? I suppose she wanted to be sure of dancing with someone, Johnny. Hey, girls, come to think of it. It's the first time I've ever seen Margie. Huh? And just what does that mean? I, uh, I don't know. Good evening, Mr. McDuff. Nice party, isn't it? Oh, yes indeed, yes. Who is that with Mr. Fontaine? Miss Palmer, our librarian. Oh, very attractive. She's well-preserved for the age. So watch the plane. Yes, Papa. Shall we try it? Oh, I'd love to. Yes, by all means, young man. By all means. Oh, Margie, they thought you were coming with Mr. Fontaine. Why? Why, how absurd. Yeah, that's what I told them. I said, why would she want to come with some drip from the faculty? May I cut in? Where'd you come from? May I? Leave in one little smile, Margie? I don't feel like smiling. Why? I mean, that you're fooling myself. You're just trying to be nice. You don't have to dance with me. Between you and me, Margie, I'd rather dance with you than anyone else in this room. If you only knew how I'd feel. If you... What did you say? I said I'd rather dance with you than anyone else in this room. And I mean it. Anyone? Anyone. I'd be just taking pity on her like Johnny did. I sure wish Mr. Fontaine would take pity on me. I... Well, what do you know? Johnny's taking pity on her again. Johnny, I... I guess you can do it to me. I... I didn't think I'd see you again so soon, Johnny. Gee, well, Margie, where have you been all my life? Right under your nose, I guess. Well, you're sure a smooth dancer. How well... How about doing the swap? No, I... I mean, that would be just one... One... That was the last time I ever wore those bluebirds. I was about to throw them away a few years ago, but your father insisted that I keep them. Oh, mother, just think that it happened again at the prom. Oh, how perfectly ghastly it must have been for you. Oh, it was, darling. Gastly. But what happened? Who finally got to take you home? Grandfather or who? Well, your father, of course. Hey, where is everybody? We're up here, Daddy, in the... What have you been doing up here? Oh, we've had more fun, Daddy. Mother's been telling me all about the bows she had when she went to Central High School. Oh, she has, has she? Look at this snapshot of Johnny Green. Oh, he sounds simply terrific. Do you remember him? Yes, dear, he was a drip. Oh, dear, that doesn't sound so well, coming from the principal of Central High School. You heard me, I said drip. But where is he now? What does he do? He's a plumber, I think. Works for a fellow named Roy Hornsdale. Oh, look, Daddy, all these old phonograph records. Listen to this one. Exactly say I'm good at it, but I sure like to try. Well, here we go. Where's Papa, darling? Didn't he come home with you? No, he was betrayed. The ambassador will be home for dinner, though. Ambassador? You mean he finally got it? Take a look at that evening paper. I put it right there on the trunk. Angus McDuff appointed an ambassador to Nicaragua. TV will tell you about next week's show. But first, here's what glamorous, fascinating Ruth Hussie says about complexion care. I've been a luxe girl for years, she says, because I've found there's nothing quite like luxe-active lather facials. They really do wonders for the skin. Why don't you take Ruth Hussie's dip? Luxe has active lather that cleanses gently but thoroughly. You'll find daily facials with fragrant white luxe-toilet soap are simple but so effective. They leave skin softer, smoother, give it quick new beauty. That's why 9 out of 10 screen stars use luxe-toilet soap. They know it's a beauty care that works. So get Hollywood's favorite beauty soap tomorrow. Discover for yourself it's easy to be luxe-lovely. Now here's Mr. Keely with our stars. And here they are coming forward to the footlights for a well-deserved curtain call. Gene Crane and Hugh Marlowe. Certainly a charming story. And you know, Gene, it's hard to believe that you're not still a high school girl. Yes, Gene, with three small boys to manage. How do you stay so young? Well, you know, I think luxe-toilet soap helps Gene to look like a teenager. Just look at that beautiful complexion. Thank you, Bill. Thank you, Bill. I certainly am devoted to luxe-toilet soap facials. I never miss them. Then you'll be able to go on playing high school girls for years to come. Oh, but I don't want to. I'd like to play somebody very wicked for a change. Who did you have in mind? Cruyloo? No. But I envy Gene Peters who just made a picture at 20th Century Fox called Anne of the Indies. In which Anne plays a lady pirate? She's a pirate, but she's no lady. Isn't she supposed to be the adopted daughter of the famous Blackbeard? Yes. And he teaches her to be a cupboard pirate, too. Gene has...