Breuer (to Pat): There’s one the exact color of your dress.
Pat: Oh, which one?
Bobby: I hope he gets away.
Breuer: He won’t. Catch him, there.
(the fish manages to escape. The waiter goes after another)
Breuer (testily): No. I want that one.
Pat (suddenly comparing the fish to herself): I don’t. Oh, let it go — let it go!
Bobby (as it escapes again): Poor little silver trout!
Breuer meets Bobby’s eye; aware of the symbolism of the episode, Breuer laughs contemptuously.
DISSOLVE TO:
99 THE TABLE — LATER
The trout eaten. Breuer and Pat talking.
Breuer (lightly): There’s no reason why the Trianon Cabaret shouldn’t become a house again, if you chose.
Bobby overhears this and stands up, facing away and taking a step toward the bar.
Frau Schmidt (a little drunk): Where are you going, handsome?
Bobby: For a drink.
She grabs at his coat-tail — this causes the back of his tie to jerk over his collar, revealing a length of string.
Frau Schmidt: Why, the man’s all tied up in knots.
Bobby (politely savage): I think I’d better go home — and get some more string.
Pat (alarmed): I must go too — it’s late.
Breuer: That’s absurd. It’s only one. We haven’t started yet.
Bobby (quietly): Can’t you see she’s tired?
Breuer (dryly): You haven’t known Pat as long as I have. She doesn’t leave parties early. (raises his eyebrows) Why, my friend, you seem to be having trouble with your shirt.
Bobby looks at him angrily and seems about to blow up.
Breuer (to Pat): This dance?
Pat: I have it with Bobby.
Bobby: Please excuse me. I’m not dancing.
(he bows frigidly, and Pat flinches)
DISSOLVE TO:
100 THE INTERIOR OF THE LIMOUSINE —
— on the way home. Pat half asleep between Breuer and Bobby. Bobby is sullen and silent.
Breuer: Where can I drop you?
Bobby: At the next corner.
Breuer: I’ll gladly drive you home.
Bobby (looking out the window): Drop me here at Alfons’ Bar, if you please.
Breuer: Can you get in at this hour?
Bobby (ironically): Thanks for your interest. I can get in. (Breuer calls into the speaking tube. Bobby touches Pat’s hand) I won’t wake her. Goodnight, and thank you.
(but as he shuts the door, she stirs)
Pat (half asleep): Bobby — Bobby —
CUT TO:
101 INT. ALFONS’ BAR — BOBBY —
— sitting down with Lenz and Koster. They are surprised.
Koster: Hello — I thought you’d see the sun rise.
Bobby: I won’t. Perhaps two other people will.
Koster: That man Breuer?
Bobby: About the worst twerp I ever met. Kicking people out of the theater to get himself a seat.
Koster: Alfons! Give Bobby a triple brandy, whiskey, gin and rum.
Lenz (disappointed): She’s a rich man’s girl.
Bobby: Let’s forget it. Tell me about the race at the speedway. What’s the prize?
Koster: Five hundred marks cash. (frowning) Look here — don’t quarrel with that girl — she’s a thoroughbred.
Lenz (bitterly): She’s a rich man’s girl. What can Bobby do? If he was an American like we read about, he could go out and get rich over-night. But here —
Koster: Forget it. Very few things will stand inspection at three o’clock in the morning.
Suddenly, Bobby raises his hand angrily and smashes his glass.
Bobby (ashamed): Sorry — I forgot where I was for a moment.
DISSOLVE TO:
102 A DESERTED STREET
Dawn is coming, dull smudges behind the housetops. Bobby lurches along quite tight, his face pale and miserable. Reaching his house, he leans for a minute against the wall — then starts up the steps and searches for his key. In the dusk he hears a sound. Then he peers and sees a pale, indistinct form, crouching on the steps. It is Pat, still in her gleaming silver dress.
Bobby: Pat! Pat — what are you doing here?
Pat (stirring): I believe I’ve been asleep.
Bobby: How did you get here?
Pat: I walked, darling.
Bobby: I mean why are you here at all?
Pat: I’ve been asking myself that for an hour. (she stands up with a little fit of coughing) Oh God, it’s cold.
Bobby (sobering): Pat, you’re a marvelous girl, and I’m a damned idiot. But you’re shivering. Come inside here.
With his arm around her, they go in.
DISSOLVE TO:
103 BOBBY AND PAT —
— entering his room, Pat exhausted from the climb. He puts her on the bed and piles clothes on top of her.
Bobby: Oh, how dumb I am! I should have called you from Alfons’.
Pat (sniffing): Rum — cognac — whiskey — the League of Nations. Darling!
Bobby: I’m sorry.
Pat: Do you sleep on this bed?
Bobby: Yes — Oh, if I’d only known you were here. You’re still shivering. (he piles more clothes on) You’re the first lovely thing that’s ever been in this miserable room.
Pat (sleepily): You’re pretty lovely yourself.
He draws up a low stool and sits down beside the bed, leaning against it. Her eyes close.
Pat: You’re a drunkard and a darling, and you didn’t mean that the other night.
Bobby: Mean what?
Pat: About not loving me.
Bobby (suppressing a desire to put his arms around her): No, I didn’t mean it.
She closes her eyes; the birds are twittering outside the window. Bobby leans his elbow on the bed with his arm alongside hers. He yawns — his top hat opens with a dull thud.
DISSOLVE TO:
104 BREUER’S OFFICE — MORNING
A few days later. Breuer at his desk, his lieutenant facing him.
Breuer: Did you make that little investigation?
Lieutenant: I did — the three of them own a sort of repair shop — a poor little place. They pick up old jobs. You couldn’t call it a nest of revolutionaries, but one of them is — distinctly dangerous.
Breuer (eagerly): Which one? Robert Lohkamp?
Lieutenant: No. His name is Lenz. The other two don’t seem to mix in politics.
Breuer (disappointed): All right. Put this Lenz’s name on our list. Where is this garage or shop?
Lieutenant (points it out on the map): There — this corner.
Breuer (with meaning): How very odd! We were thinking of establishing a club house or an armory in that vicinity. It might be just the spot, that corner. I’d like those men moved on.
Lieutenant: Where to?
Breuer: Where — I don’t care. (with sudden passion) Out of Germany if necessary.
DISSOLVE TO:
105 A RACE TRACK
An enthusiastic crowd of racing fans.
SHOOTING FROM THE GRANDSTAND ACROSS THE TRACK, we see eight cars pass in a flurry of dust, then CAMERA TRUCKS across track up to —
106 A LINE OF “PITS” ALONG THE BARRIER
Each bears a sign — “Deusenburg,” “Renault,” “Isotta-Fraschini,” “Daimler,” etc. We approach the one marked “Heinrich,” and find Pat, Bobby, and Lenz all very excited, sitting on the barrier. There are cans of oil piled within, and a spare set of tires. Lenz is in mechanics’ overalls and holding a bottle of wine.
Lenz (tensely): Otto’s gaining — no he isn’t. Come on, Heinrich! Good old Heinrich. Last lap!
A Gigantic Mechanic (in the next pit): What is that white junk? A trailer?
Lenz (truculently): Who wants to know?
(the mechanic swells visibly)
Pat (warning him): Don’t, Gottfried. Hospitals are expensive.
Lenz and the mecha
nic are interrupted by a yell of surprise from the crowd.
CUT TO:
107 THE BACKSTRETCH
“HEINRICH” is creeping up on the others.
CUT TO:
108 THE PITS
Lenz: He’s stepping on it!
Bobby: Come on, Heinrich!
109 THE HOME STRETCH
The cars tearing for the finish. “Heinrich” and another are neck and neck — “Heinrich” sweeps by — to win.
CUT TO:
110 THE PITS
Lenz (to the big mechanic): Yah! Yah!
Cheering from the crowd. But as the exhaust and dust blow into the pits, Pat has a violent fit of coughing.
Bobby (supporting her): Are you all right?
Pat (choking): Nothing — dust in my throat.
Lenz (excitedly hands her the bottle): Try this!
(he rushes over to where Koster is stepping out of “Heinrich”, surrounded by a crowd)
Pat: I haven’t learned to drink from a bottle. (coughing) Isn’t it fine we won, darling.
DISSOLVE TO:
111 THE COURTYARD OF THE REPAIR SHOP. LATE AFTERNOON.
The Comrades and Pat at the outdoor table by the plum tree, singing, “Wann die Soldaten Durch die Stadt Marschieren.”
On the table sits the silver cup. “Heinrich” himself, with a wreath on his hood, stands in the background.
Jupp comes up to Lenz.
Jupp: There’s a customer — only he doesn’t seem like a customer.
Lenz: What? And we haven’t anything to sell just now. (he gets up) Where is he?
(he follows Jupp)
Koster: Bobby, would you mind going along too?
Bobby (puzzled): No — but why?
Koster: Lenz might need you. Only for a minute, Bobby.
(Bobby goes — suspiciously)
Pat (touching the cup): Was this worth risking your life for?
Koster (earnestly): I’m going to do something more dangerous than that. Meddle in other people’s business. How long have you known Bobby?
Pat: About six weeks.
Koster: Why don’t you get married? (Pat starts) You love him, don’t you? (she doesn’t answer) He hasn’t had much out of life. (still she doesn’t answer) Think of all you could give him that he’s never had.
Pat: It isn’t that. it’s — oh, it’s this wretched body of mine.
Koster: It’s an excellent body.
Pat: No — it’s merely patched up. After the war, we didn’t have enough to eat. I’m no good here.
(she puts her hand on her chest)
Koster: I guessed that.
Pat: I’m all right — when I take care of myself.
Koster: Let Bobby take care of you.
Pat: I wouldn’t let anyone do that.
Koster: You little idiot — that’s what he needs — something worthwhile to live for. That’s what all this idle drinking is about. The world has somehow slipped away from Lenz and me — we don’t want it to happen to Bobby.
Pat (shaking her head): It doesn’t make sense. Perhaps another kind of woman —
Koster: The kind he couldn’t love?
Lenz and Bobby come back to the table.
Lenz (worried): There seems to be some trouble about our license.
Koster: What is it?
Lenz: A fresh little squirt says we’ll have to get it renewed. Or rather he said we could try to get it renewed.
Koster (scoffing): What nonsense. We’ve been here two years. There’ll be no difficulty.
Bobby: He said —
Koster: Sit down. You can go to the license bureau tomorrow. (Lenz and Bobby sit down. Bobby next to Pat) This evening is too important to spoil. Pat tells me she loves us all. Am I right, Pat?
Pat: You took the words out of my mouth.
Koster: But I want to resign in favor of Bobby.
Lenz: How about me? Bobby has that South American wife.
Bobby: Shut up, you grease spot.
Koster (pointing to the car): Heinrich is all for it. He’s rich now, and he offers to stake them to a week on the coast.
Pat suddenly buries her head in Bobby’s chest.
Pat: Darling, let me hide my blushes. You don’t want a wife, do you?
Bobby (a little annoyed with Koster): Will you let go my apron strings. Don’t you think I can speak for myself?
Pat: Of course you can, darling — (she raises her head) — and let’s hear you.
Bobby: Ladies and gentlemen — (he pauses, embarrassed, holding Pat in his arms) — who is this woman?
Pat: Darling — (she looks up at him) — it’s just me.
Bobby: Oh.
Pat (looking into his eyes and imitating his tone.): Oh. (he draws her closer. She speaks a little louder and very lovingly) Oh! (then a little muffled as he holds her very closely) Ohh.
Koster and Lenz look at each other and raise their eyebrows reprovingly.
Koster and Lenz (as one would say “Aha”): O-oh!
DISSOLVE TO:
112 THE CORRIDOR OF A MUNICIPAL BUILDING
A row of offices with information desks at intervals. Lenz, frowning, goes along the corridor, and stops at one, speaking to a clerk.
Lenz: My name is Lenz. Who is responsible for renewing business licenses?
Clerk: The License Bureau.
Lenz: There seems to be something funny about it. Our fees are paid, but I can’t get the chief clerk’s signature, and it’s been three days.
Clerk: Not countersigned, perhaps.
Lenz: What’s that?
Clerk: Something new. (lowers his voice) Everything now has to be O.K ‘d by — (he breaks off suddenly) The Civil Service is down to the left.
Lenz: I didn’t ask you —
At the sound of footsteps, he catches the clerk’s warning eye. Breuer’s Lieutenant passes them, going down the corridor.
Lenz: Oh, politics, eh? Something higher than the law. I wish I knew some of those boys.
His glance falls across the corridor to the door from which the man has issued. THE CAMERA MOVES ALONG WITH HIS EYES to a glass door, on which is lettered: “ERICH BREUER Private Dept. of Appropriations”
Lenz’s Voice (excitedly): By heaven! I’ve met that gentleman.
Clerk: If you know Herr Breuer, it should be easy to arrange. He is not exactly in the administration, but — (he pauses significantly) Lenz has started for the office. He reconsiders and dashes for the pay telephone booth in the corridor.
Lenz: Western two seven nine six.
CUT TO:
113 CORRIDOR. BREUER’S LIEUTENANT
— coming back carrying papers. He pauses at the desk.
Lieutenant: That man who was here — had he just been to the License Bureau?
Clerk: Yes. He’s —
Lieutenant (interrupting): Was his name Lenz?
Clerk Yes.
(he points to the phone booth)
The lieutenant nods, smiles and goes on into Breuer’s office.
CUT TO:
114 LENZ AT PHONE
Lenz: — but what luck! I remembered that he’s a friend of yours. A word from you ought to fix it for us.
CUT TO:
115 PAT AT THE PHONE IN HER ROOM
She has on her hat and is dressed to go out. She frowns a little.
Pat: I’ll see him this morning. Goodbye, Gottfried.
She hangs up, puts her face in a bowl of flowers with a card, “Bobby,” beside it, picks up her bag and goes out.
DISSOLVE TO:
116 BREUER’S OFFICE.
Breuer behind his desk. Pat sitting upon it, smoking a cigarette.
Complete Works of F. Scott Fitzgerald UK (Illustrated) Page 394
