Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

- You mixed Margo up with a five-and-ten. - Make it Bergdorf Goodman.
Not much.
- You were saying? - The theater is nine-tenths hard work.
...this night could never have been.
Well, if I'm not in the way...
It is now 5.43. When you ask again a minute from now...
Instead, I can't wait for tonight to come. To come and go.
Margo, tell me what's behind all this.
Eve. Eve, the golden girl. The cover girl.
It's good luck before an audition.
Just that she'll be happy to do what she can to see that I play it.
- I don't have to. I want to. - Is it the money?
- She never proved a thing! - But the $500 you got to get out of town...
Just refer all of Miss Eve Harrington's future requests to me.
Tell me, how did your luncheon turn out with the man from Hollywood?
Ah... Eve.
Oddly enough, she didn't say a word about Margo.
Stop rehearsing your column.
Then what would be enough?
Almost four.
...to keep the audience from leaving the theater.
Well, this beats all world's records for running, jumping or standing gall.
To intimate anything else spells a paranoiac insecurity that you should be ashamed of!
Mr. Sampson's birthday, I couldn't forget that. You'd never forgive me.
- What have you got to do with it? - Everything.
Who? Who's calling Mr. Richards?
- Would you? - Anything to help you out, Max.
You're trapped. You're in a tin can.
They're lovely. Aren't they lovely, Birdie?
Her loyalty, efficiency, devotion, warmth and affection, and so young!
"Even De Mille couldn't see anything looking through the wrong end!" So...
- Miss Caswell, Miss Harrington. - How do you do?
Lloyd, I want you to be big about this.
Why, if there's nothing else, there's applause.
Isn't that what they always say?
Just give him my phone number. I'll tell him myself.
Not many cars either. Not much chance of a lift.
- Macbeth. - We've seen you like this before.
I love a psychotic.
- That word. I don't even know what it means. - It's time you found out.
I shall propose the toast...
I think we'd like very much.
If you'll excuse me, I'll go and tell Miss Caswell.
And I'm fed up with both the young lady and her qualities!
- Promise. - That's my Max.
You haven't noticed my latest bit of interior decorating.
I guess I was asleep when you got home.
I won't play tonight.
I shall go to the party alone. I have no intention of missing it.
A beautiful and an intelligent woman, and a great actress.
Margo, this is Eve Harrington.
- And you need her, Max. - What will she do?
Karen, let me tell you about Eve. She's got everything. A born actress.
You didn't hurt my feelings, Miss Coonan.
You see the play? You've seen every performance of this play?
To give so much for almost always so little!
Don't get up. And don't act as if I were the Queen Mother.
Max! Mon vieux!
Some morning papers carried a squib about Eve's performance.
I'm lied to, attacked behind my back...
- Over my dead body. - That won't be necessary.
I didn't promise Eve anything. I said she'd be fine for the part...
Don't underestimate him. You have a powerful friend in Addison.
A part in a play.
I don't think I've done anything to sound off about.
But that in itself is probably the reason.
- I placed? - Go ahead, please.
- Except happiness! - Every reason!
But Eddie wasn't there.
- Where do you suppose it could be? - It'll show up.
The names I've been called, but never Svengali. Good luck.
- You in a hurry? - In a big hurry, so be quick about it.
I'd be just another tongue-tied fan.
Margo just doesn't miss performances. If she can walk, crawl or roll, she plays.
That Eddie was dead.
Because after tonight you will belong to me.
...this highest honor the theater knows.
- You probably won't believe me. - Probably not.
It is my last wish to be buried sitting up.
In a tin can, cellophane or wrapped in a Navajo blanket, I want you home.
- I'm talking about you and what you want. - So am I.
- That was a pity. - Wanted to explain about the interview.
The next three weeks were out of a fairy tale, and I was Cinderella in the last act.
You want an argument or an answer?
Farmers were poor in those days. That's what Dad was, a farmer.
I'm afraid Mr. DeWitt would find me boring before too long.
And there was a little theater group there, like a drop of rain on the desert.
Undramatic, perhaps, but practical.
It might've been 15 years ago. It's my part now.
Why? I'm curious.
Lloyd Richards, do not consider giving that contemptible little worm the part of Cora!
Lloyd! Please.
Eve did mention the play, but in passing.
Strange. I'd become so accustomed to seeing her there night after night...
I'd hoped that you would have taken it for granted that you and I...
Now there's something a girl could make sacrifices for.
It'll bring me everything I've ever wanted.
Addison, come in for a minute, will you?
"So little", did you say?
That sounds medieval. Something out of an old melodrama.
Lloyd, we've got to go!
- A married lady. - With a paper to prove it.
- I'll just clean up the mess. - Don't bother.
- And probably has. - Sable!
Happy Birthday Steven
...and I went to see it.
You really have a low opinion of me, haven't you?
Lloyd and Max finally won him over.
Hey, wait a minute! You haven't even said it yet!
Margo, you by any chance haven't got any bicarbonate of soda in the house?