344
SAUL IELLOW
MOTI':
Just depend on me.
Phone rings.
BUMMIDOE
answering.
BUMMIDOE:
Yes? Yes, Harold....
(Hangs uP)
It's the count-down.
Imogen! Where's Imogen?
Enter
IMOGEN
with
WINKLEMAN,
left,
in
the spotlight.
Ah, stand by! Wish me luck. It's the greatest!
IMOGEN:
All the best, Bummy.
BUMMIDOE
and
MOTI'
consulting. They put on television
cosmetics.
WINKLEMAN:
All the psychiatrists are getting ready for the laugh of
their lives.
IMOGEN:
Oh, Winkie, really! You know your cousin is brilliant.
WINKLEMAN:
Luckily, there are commercial interests at the Waldorf,
watching. So it shouldn't
be
a total loss. There's great wealth in
Bummy still. I feel it. And to be
as
fantastic as he
is
can only
be
possible with wealth. Sometimes I think I've over-accepted reality,
and he's under-accepted it. But Imogen, I want to ask you some–
thing. You know, you could be the ideal wife for a millionaire. I
have all these clients whose estates I manage. Some of them are
fools, you know.
IMOGEN:
Are they?
WINKLEMAN:
I have to keep them away from gold-digging broads.
It
isn't easy for
a
millionaire to find a suitable mate. Now you're an
ideal millionaire's wife.
IMOGEN:
Do you think so?
WINKLEMAN:
I swear. Restful, calm, accepting, undemanding, beau–
tiful, kind. Restful!
IMOGEN:
I didn't know that.
WINKLEMAN:
And very beautiful. Just look at your hands-your fing–
ers. Now look at mine. Yours are more human than mine. Don't you
see that?
Phone again.
BUMMIDGE:
Harold? Okay? Two minutes?
(Hangs up)
Sheldon! Shel–
don! Hey, Sheldon!
Enter
SHELDON.
Now I want nobody butting in. Understand?
SHELDON:
I know . . . I can't get
used
to these
TV
cosmetics.
BUMMIDOE:
J'Ust don't let anybody near me. Like in a surgery.
(To
technicians)
Everything set? All the wires. I don't want to trip over
any
wires.
