"REAR WINDOW" by John Michael Hayes Based on a short story by Cornell Woolrich Final Draft December 1, 1953 FADE IN: INT. JEFFERIES' APARTMENT - DAY - LONG SHOT Although we do not see the foreground window frame, we see the whole background of a Greenwich Village street. We can see the rear of a number of assorted houses and small apartment buildings whose fronts face on the next cross-town street, sharply etched by the morning sun. Some are two stories high; others three; some have peaked roofs, others are flat. There is a mixture of brick and wood and wrought iron in the construction. The apartment buildings have fire escapes, the others do not. The neighborhood is not a prosperous one, but neither is it poor. It is a practical, conventional dwelling place for people living on marginal incomes, luck -- or hope and careful planning. The summer air is motionless and heavy with humid heat. It has opened windows wide, pushed back curtains, lifted blinds and generally brought the neighborhood life into a sweltering intimacy. Yet, people born and bred to life within earshot and eye glance of a score of neighbors have learned to preserve their own private worlds by uniformly ignoring each other, except on direct invitation. THE CAMERA PULLS BACK until a large sleeping profile of a man fills the screen. It is so large that we do not see any features, but merely the temple and side of the cheek down which a stream of sweat is running. THE CAMERA PANS OFF this to the right hand side of the window, and MOVES TO a thermometer which is hanging on the wall just outside the window. It registers 84. THE CAMERA MOVES ON into the open, and brings nearer to us a room with a large studio window. We are able to see inside this room. A short, balding man is standing near the window, shaving, using a small bowl of water and a portable mirror which he has set up on a shelf. To the right of him is a battered upright piano. On top of the piano is a radio. The music selection coming from the radio stops, and the announcer is heard. ANNOUNCER The time -- 7:15 A.M., WOR, New York. The temperature, outside, 84 -- Friends -- is your life worth one dollar? The man shaving quickly puts down his razor, hurries to the radio, and changes the station, moving past a number of commercial voices until he again finds some music. Contented, he returns to his shaving. THE CAMERA MOVES ON AND OVER to a far building. It passes over the face of this building until it comes to fire escapes. It goes up and near enough to one which has become the outdoor bedroom of a couple. We are near enough to see an alarm clock hanging from the rail which is now ringing vigorously. A man rises lazily to a sitting position. He gropes to switch the alarm off. We see that his pajamas are stained with sweat. In his sitting position he leans forward and shakes somebody beside him. To our surprise, the head of this other person -- a woman -- rises where his feet are. They have been sleeping in opposite directions. They sit limply looking at each other with bedraggled and weary expressions which show they enjoyed very little sleep in the heat of the night. THE CAMERA NOW MOVES DOWN toward the left onto another low building. It MOVES IN A LITTLE to a living room window. Just inside the windowsill, a small fan is oscillating. The fan sits on the right side of the table, and to the left of it is an automatic toaster. Behind the toaster stands a full-bodied young woman, apparently wearing only a pair of black panties. Her stomach, navel, and the lower part of her chest are naked. Just below her breasts, the curtain, partly drawn, has thrown a deep shadow which extends upward, hiding her breasts, shoulders and head. Two pieces of toast pop up in the toaster. She takes them out, butters them. Then she turns around and bends over another table on which stands an automatic coffee-maker. She picks up the coffee-maker, and swings back to the table to sit down. She does this so deftly that her breasts are never exposed, but hidden by the fan as she sits down. The fan moves back and forth as she pours coffee, far enough to reveal that she wears no bra, but not far enough to fulfill the exciting promise of her lack of clothes. THE CAMERA MOVES ON to a distant street corner seen between two buildings. The traffic is very light at this hour, but a Sanitation Department truck moves through the intersection spraying water out behind it to cool the pavement and keep the dust down. Three little kids in bathing suits run behind the truck, playing in the water. THE CAMERA MOVES OFF and around to some buildings at the side. As it skims this building, we see a hand emerge from one of the windows, and remove the cover from a birdcage which is hanging from a hook on the wall outside. In the cage are two lovebirds -- arguing. THE CAMERA NOW PULLS BACK SWIFTLY and retreats through the open window back into Jefferies' apartment. We now see more of the sleeping man. THE CAMERA GOES IN far enough to show a head and shoulders of him. He is L. B. JEFFERIES. A tall, lean, energetic thirty five, his face long and serious-looking at rest, is in other circumstances capable of humor, passion, naive wonder and the kind of intensity that bespeaks inner convictions of moral strength and basic honesty. He is sitting in an Everest and Jennings wheelchair. THE CAMERA PANS along his right leg. It is encased in a plaster of Paris spica from his waistline to the base of his toes. Along the white cast someone has written "Here lie the broken bones of L. B. Jefferies." THE CAMERA PANS to a nearby table on which rests a shattered and twisted Speed Graphic Camera, the kind used by fast-action news photographers. On the same table, the CAMERA PANS to an eight by ten glossy photo print. It shows a dirt track auto racing speedway, taken from a point dangerously near the center of the track. A racing car is skidding toward the camera, out of control, spewing a cloud of dust behind it. A rear wheel has come off the car, and the wheel is bounding at top speed directly into the camera lens. THE CAMERA MOVES UP to a framed photograph on the wall. It is a fourteen by ten print, an essay in violence, having caught on film the exploding semi-second when a heavy artillery shell arches into a front-line Korean battle outpost. Men and equipment erupt into the air suspended in a solution of blasted rock, dust and screeching shrapnel. That the photographer was not a casualty is evident, but surprising when the short distance between the camera and the explosion is estimated. A signature in the lower right hand corner of the picture reads -- "L. B. Jefferies." THE CAMERA PANS to a second photograph of a picket line at an aircraft plant strike. Strikers, non-strikers and police are embroiled in a bitter and confused riot. Clubs, fists and truncheons swing, blood flows, faces twist with emotion and fallen victims struggle to regain their feet. The picture represents no distant, cautions photographic observation, but rather an intimate report, so immediate and real that the viewer has the nervous feeling the fight surrounds him and he had best defend himself. The same signature, "L. B. Jefferies," is in the corner. THE CAMERA PANS TO another framed picture, this one a beautiful and awesome shot of an atomic explosion at Frenchman's Flat, Nevada. It is the cul-de-sac of violence. The picture taken at a distant observation point, shows some spectators in the foreground watching the explosion through binoculars. THE CAMERA MOVES ON to a shelf containing a number of cameras, photographic film, etc. It then PAN ACROSS a large viewer on which is resting a negative of a woman's head. From this, THE CAMERA MOVES ON to a magazine cover, and although we do not see the name of the magazine, we can see the head on the cover is the positive of the negative we have just passed. THE CAMERA FINALLY COMES TO REST ON a pile of magazines -- perhaps a hundred or so. They are all of the same publication. LAP DISSOLVE TO: INT. GUNNISON'S OFFICE - DAY - CLOSE UP The screen is filled with the top of a desk. In addition to the usual telephones, blotting pad, etc., the most prominent feature is the number of glossy photo prints, and even larger- sized mat prints. Some of them have slips pasted over with descriptions. The center of the desk is occupied by a large layout of photographs on one magazine page. Behind this we hear the murmur of two voices of men who can be vaguely seen beyond the desk. THE CAMERA PANS UP and we are now face to face with IVAR GUNNISON and JACK BRYCE. Gunnison is sitting on a window- ledge, and beyond him we realize we are high above the New York streets. Bryce leans against a wall at right angles to him. Gunnison is holding a cablegram in his hand. Bryce has a cigarette in his mouth. He scratches a match, and is about to light it, when he notices that Gunnison, still reading the cable, has reached into an inside shirt pocket, and produced a cigarette. Quickly, Bryce moves over to light Gunnison's cigarette. Then he settles back to light his own. Gunnison doesn't even bother to thank him. GUNNISON (Looks up) Indo-China -- Jeff predicted it would go sky-high. BRYCE From the looks of Davidson's cable, it might even go higher than that. And we haven't even got a camera over there. GUNNISON (Stands) This could go off in a month -- or an hour. BRYCE I'll pull somebody out of Japan. GUNNISON (Heads for his phone) Bryce, the only man for this job is sitting right here in town. (Picks up phone) Get me L. B. Jefferies. BRYCE (Puzzled) Jefferies? GUNNISON (To Bryce; still holding phone) Name me a better photographer. BRYCE (He can't) But his leg! GUNNISON Don't worry -- it comes off today. Bryce gives Gunnison a startled look. GUNNISON I mean the cast. (To phone) INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP Shooting through the open window, onto Jeff. He is shaving himself with an electric razor as the phone rings. He shuts off the shaver, picks up the phone. JEFF Jefferies. GUNNISON (On filter) Congratulations, Jeff. JEFF For what? GUNNISON For getting rid of that cast. JEFF Who said I was getting rid of it? At this moment, his attention is drawn to something across the way. He looks up, expectantly. There is almost a touch of eagerness in his expression. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - LONG SHOT While Jeff is continuing his phone conversation, we see the object of his look. Two pretty girls have appeared on the distant roof. They are smiling and talking, although we cannot hear their dialogue. Each wears a terrycloth robe. With their backs to the CAMERA, they take off the robes, slipping them down over their shoulders slowly. Then, seductively, they turn -- revealing the full beauty of their tanned and bathing- suited bodies. It is almost as if they want to be noticed, the center of neighborhood attention. They at least have all of Jeff's attention. Then they spread the robes in front of them, and lie down on the roof, and out of sight. Jeff seems a little disappointed. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP During the whole of this previous action, the conversation between Jeff and Gunnison has gone on as follows: GUNNISON (With logical proof) This is Wednesday. JEFF Gunnison -- how did you get to be such a big editor -- with such a small memory? GUNNISON Wrong day? JEFF Wrong week. Next Wednesday I emerge from this plaster cocoon. GUNNISON That's too bad, Jeff. Well, I guess I can't be lucky every day. Forget I called. JEFF Yeah. I sure feel sorry for you, Gunnison. Must be rough on you thinking of me wearing this cast another whole week. INT. GUNNISON'S OFFICE - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP Gunnison is now seated at his desk, with the phone receiver to his ear. His assistant, Bryce, can be seen vaguely in the background. GUNNISON That one week is going to cost me my best photographer -- and you a big assignment. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - CLOSE-UP Jeff asks, eagerly and alertly. JEFF Where? We hear Gunnison's reply. GUNNISON There's no point in even talking about it. Jeff's eyes become set upon something else in the neighborhood he sees. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - LONG SHOT Jeff's attention is now drawn to another feature of his backyard entertainment. THE CAMERA IS NOW FOCUSED on the window of the small building where we earlier saw the girl behind the oscillating fan. Loud ballet music is pouring from her open window. The girl, now dressed in dark and revealing leotard, and ballet slippers, has just turned away from a portable record player. She begins the first graceful movement of a modern ballet interpretation. She gracefully moves across the room to the rhythm of the music and dance, toward the ice box. With her feet still moving, she throws open the door, and then rhythmically moving back to the center of the room, gnaws the chicken bone, occasionally waving it in the air as part of the choreography. She now twirls over toward a table at the other side of the room on which is an open package of bread slices, some butter nearby. With swaying body, she puts down the chicken leg, and gracefully and rhythmically butters a slice of bread. She picks up both bread and chicken leg and continues her interpretive dance, alternately munching the bread and butter and chicken leg. INT. APARTMENT - DAY - CLOSEUP Jeff's eyes drop from the ballet dancer's room to the one underneath. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - LONG SHOT THE CAMERA PANS from the window of the dancing girl, to the window below. Someone is reading the New York Herald Tribune. The paper lowers, and we see an elderly lady, in her late sixties. She is a faded, refined type. She looks up in the direction of the music and in a calm routine fashion adjusts the volume of her hearing aid. She resumes her reading. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - CLOSEUP Jeff is amused by what he sees, but continues his conversation with Gunnison, which has gone on through all the scenes with the ballet dancer. JEFF (Insistent) Where? GUNNISON (Filter) Indo-China. Got a code tip from the bureau chief this morning. The place is about to go up in smoke. JEFF (Pleased; excited) Didn't I tell you! Didn't I tell you it was the next place to watch? GUNNISON You did. JEFF (On filter) Okay. When do I leave? Half-hour? An hour? GUNNISON With that cast on -- you don't. JEFF (On filter) Stop sounding stuffy. I'll take pictures from a jeep. From a water buffalo if necessary. GUNNISON You're too valuable to the magazine for us to play around with. I'll send Morgan or Lambert. JEFF Swell. I get myself half-killed for you -- and you reward me by stealing my assignments. GUNNISON I didn't ask you to stand in the middle of that automobile race track. JEFF (A little angry) You asked for something dramatically different! You got it! GUNNISON (Quietly) So did you. Goodbye, Jeff. JEFF (Won't let him hang up) You've got to get me out of here! Six weeks -- sitting in a two-room apartment with nothing to do but look out the window at the neighbors! At this moment we hear the sounds of a piano playing. It is a simple, but broken, melody as if someone was just learning to play the piano, or carefully composing a song. It clashes abruptly with the music from the ballet dancer's apartment. It irritates Jeff as he looks in the direction of the new music. JEFF It's worse than the Chinese water torture. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - SEMI-LONG SHOT We now see the source of the piano music. It comes from the apartment with the studio window which we saw earlier where the man was shaving and listening to the radio. The short, balding man sits at the piano playing a few notes, then transferring them by pencil to notepaper on the piano rack. He continues this process, fighting the interference of the ballet music. The opening bars of his melody are beautiful and ear-catching. It is slow, hard work, and the ballet music finally becomes such an interference that he gives up and walks to the window to look down toward the dancer's apartment. He stands by a table at the window which is littered with records, the morning coffee cup, unwashed, the remains of breakfast, old newspapers, song sheets, etc. He takes a cigarette out of his mouth, looks for an ash tray, and ends up putting it out in the coffee cup. He then returns to the piano and begins picking out the melody the dancer is playing on her record player. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP Jeff frowns at the double sound, and raises his voice a little. He continues the conversation which has been heard all through the previous scene. GUNNISON Read some good books. JEFF I've been taking pictures so long I don't know how to read anymore. GUNNISON I'll send you some comic books. JEFF (Low, tense) Listen -- if you don't pull me out of this swamp of boredom -- I'll do something drastic. GUNNISON Like what? JEFF (On filter) I'll -- I'll get married. Then I'll never be able to go anywhere. GUNNISON It's about time you got married -- before you turn into a lonesome and bitter old man. JEFF Can you see me -- rushing home to a hot apartment every night to listen to the automatic laundry, the electric dishwasher, the garbage disposal and a nagging wife. GUNNISON Jeff -- wives don't nag anymore -- they discuss. Jefferies glances out across to the other apartments as he sees: EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - SEMI-LONG SHOT We see a three-storied, flat-roofed apartment house. The brick is weather-worn and faded. Each apartment has three windows facing the back, one showing a hallway, one a living room, and the window on the right opening into a bedroom. On the second floor, a man has entered the living room from a hallway door. He carries a large aluminum sample case common to salesmen. He sets down the case heavily, removes his hat, and slowly wipes his brow with the back of his right hand. He takes off his coat and tie. His shirt is stained with sweat underneath. He rolls up his sleeves, and his well- muscled arms heavy with hair confirm his dark, husky build. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP With his eyes still focused on the distant apartments, Jeff continues talking with Gunnison. JEFF Yeah? Maybe in the high rent districts they discuss -- but in my neighborhood, they still nag. GUNNISON Well -- you know best. Call you later, Jeff. JEFF Next time, have some good news. He hangs up and resumes his attention on the apartment of the salesman. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - SEMI-LONG SHOT The salesman looks toward the bedroom door, hesitates, then reluctantly walks toward it. For a moment he is hidden by the wall. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - CLOSEUP Jeff shifts his look more to the right. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - SEMI-LONG SHOT The man enters the bedroom. We can see a woman lying on the far bed. Near her, a small table is covered with medicine bottles, spoons, boxes of pills, a water pitcher and the other impedimenta of the chronically ill. The woman sits up as the man enters. She takes a wet cloth off her forehead. Before the man even reaches her, she begins talking, somewhat vigorously. Pointing to a wristwatch, she seems to be saying something such as "You should have been home two hours ago! I could be lying here dying for all you'd know -- or care!" The man stops short of the bed, makes gestures of trying to placate her, but she goes on scolding. His attitude changes to weary patience, then irritation, then anger. He shouts back at her, turns and goes out of the room. Back in the living room, he picks up his hat, throws it against the wall in anger, and leaves the apartment, slamming the door behind him. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - MEDIUM SHOT Jeff's attention is suddenly diverted to himself. His leg, under the cast, begins itching. He squirms, tries to move the leg a little. It gives no relief. He scratches the outside of the cast, but the itch gets worse. He reaches for a long, Chinese back scratcher lying on the windowsill. Carefully, and with considerable ingenuity, he works it under the cast. He scratches, and a look of sublime relief comes over his face. Satisfied, he takes the scratcher out. As he replaces it on the windowsill, his attention is drawn back to the scene outside the window. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - SEMI-LONG SHOT We see the man who left his apartment in anger come out of the doorway into the backyard. He is easy to identify through the color of his garish necktie. In one hand the man carries a small garden hoe and rake, and in the other a pair of trimming shears. He goes to a small patch of flowers, perhaps three feet square. They are beautiful, multi-colored three foot high zinnias. He kneels down, inspects them, touches them affectionately and with some pride. His anger seems to have left him, replaced by the kind of peace that flowers bring many people. He stands up, carefully hoes the ground, them rakes it. Then he snips a few leaves off the lower parts of the plant. Finally, he waters them. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP Jeff's attention is turned to something else of interest. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - SEMI-LONG SHOT Into the next door yard we see emerging from the apartment below the ballet dancer, the elderly lady. She wear a broad sun hat, dark glasses, and a sunsuit consisting of pink shorts and halter. She carries a copy of the Herald Tribune, and still wears her hearing aid. She settles into a folding, canvas deck chair. Her skin is dead white, and her body is thin to the point of emaciation. No sooner has she settled into her chair, than she is attracted by the sound of the salesman working in his garden. She gets up, walks to the fence, and looks over. He notices her, but doesn't speak. She begins gesturing to him how to take care of his flowers. He listens for a moment, then looks directly at her. The strong movements of his mouth show us that he objects vigorously to the annoyance of her comments. She moves away from the fence, started and a little shocked. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - MEDIUM SHOT Jeff is seated in the foreground, in a waist shot. Behind him, the entrance door to his apartment opens. STELLA McGAFFERY comes in. She is a husky, unhandsome, dark- haired woman who is dressed like a district nurse, with dark coat, dark felt hat, with a white uniform showing underneath the coat. She carries a small black bag. Stella pauses on the landing to watch Jeff. He doesn't appear to notice her entrance. STELLA (Loud) The New York State sentence for a peeping Tom is six months in the workhouse! He doesn't turn. JEFF Hello Stella. As she comes down the stairs of the landing, holding on the wrought iron railing with one hand: STELLA And there aren't any windows in the workhouse. She puts her bag down on a table. It is worn, and looks as if it belongs more to a fighter than a nurse. She takes off her hat coat, and hangs them on a chair. STELLA Years ago, they used to put out your eyes with a hot poker. Is one of those bikini bombshells you always watch worth a hot poker? He doesn't answer. She opens the bag, takes out some medical supplies: a thermometer, a stop watch, a bottle of rubbing oil, a can of powder, a towel. She talks as she works. STELLA We've grown to be a race of peeping Toms. What people should do is stand outside their own houses and look in once in a while. (She looks up at him) What do you think of that for homespun philosophy? A look at his face shows he doesn't think much of it. JEFF Readers' Digest, April, 1939. STELLA Well, I only quote from the best. She takes the thermometer out of its case, shakes it down. Looks at it. Satisfied, she walks to Jeff. She swings the wheelchair around abruptly to face her. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - MEDIUM SHOT Jeff starts to protest. JEFF Now look, Stella -- She shoves the thermometer into his mouth. STELLA See it you can break a hundred. As she leaves him holding the thermometer THE CAMERA PULLS BACK as she crosses to a divan. She takes a sheet from underneath, and covers the divan with it. Talking, all the time. STELLA I shoulda been a Gypsy fortune teller, instead of an insurance company nurse. I got a nose for trouble -- can smell it ten miles away. (Stops, looks at him) You heard of the stock market crash in '29? Jeff nods a bored "yes." STELLA I predicted it. JEFF (Around thermometer) How? INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP Stella stops for a moment, and looks at Jeff challengingly. STELLA Simple. I was nursing a director of General Motors. Kidney ailment they said. Nerves, I said. Then I asked myself -- what's General Motors got to be nervous about? (Snaps her fingers) Overproduction. Collapse, I answered. When General Motors has to go to the bathroom ten times a day -- the whole country's ready to let go. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - CLOSEUP A patient, suffering look comes over his face. He takes out the thermometer. JEFF Stella -- in economics, a kidney ailment has no relationship to the stock market. Absolutely none. STELLA It crashed, didn't it? Jeff has no answer. Defeated, he puts the thermometer back into his mouth. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - CLOSEUP Stella goes on with her work. STELLA I can smell trouble right in this apartment. You broke your leg. You look out the window. You see things you shouldn't. Trouble. I can see you now, in front of the judge, flanked by lawyers in blue double- breasted suits. You're pleading, "Judge, it was only innocent fun. I love my neighbors like a father." -- The Judge answers, "Congratulations. You just gave birth to three years in Dannemora." THE CAMERA PANS HER over to him. She takes out the thermometer, looks at it. JEFF Right now I'd even welcome trouble. STELLA (Flatly) You've got a hormone deficiency. JEFF How can you tell that from a thermometer! STELLA Those sultry sun-worshipers you watch haven't raised your temperature one degree in four weeks. She gets down the thermometer. Sterilizes it with a piece of alcohol-soaked cotton in her other hand. She gets behind the wheelchair the CAMERA PULLS back as she pushes it over to the divan. She puts the thermometer away in its case. Then she helps him off with his pajama top. She helps him stand on one foot. He hops one step, then she lowers him, face down, on the divan. She gets a bottle of rubbing oil. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - CLOSE SHOT The CAMERA is very low at one end of the divan. Jeff's head, half-buried in the sheet, is large in the fore-ground. Beyond him Stella looms large and powerful-looking. JEFF I think you're right. There is going to be some trouble around here. Stella takes a handful of oil, slaps it on his back. He winces. STELLA I knew it! JEFF Don't you ever heat that stuff up. STELLA Gives your circulation something to fight. (Begins massaging his back) What kind of trouble? JEFF Lisa Fremont. STELLA You must be kidding. A beautiful young woman, and you a reasonably healthy specimen of manhood. JEFF She expects me to marry her. STELLA That's normal. JEFF I don't want to. STELLA (Slaps cold oils on him) That's abnormal. JEFF (Wincing) I'm not ready for marriage. STELLA Nonsense. A man is always ready for marriage -- with the right girl. And Lisa Fremont is the right girl for any man with half a brain, who can get one eye open. JEFF (Indifferent) She's all right. She hits him with some more cold oil. He winces again. STELLA Behind every ridiculous statement is always hidden the true cause. (Peers at him) What is it? You have a fight? JEFF No. STELLA (After a pause) Her father loading up the shotgun? JEFF Stella! STELLA It's happened before, you know! Some of the world's happiest marriage have started 'under the gun' you might say. JEFF She's just not the girl for me. STELLA She's only perfect. JEFF Too perfect. Too beautiful, too talented, too sophisticated, too everything -- but what I want. STELLA (Cautiously) Is what you want something you can discuss? Jeff gives an exasperated look. JEFF It's very simple. She belongs in that rarefied atmosphere of Park Avenue, expensive restaurants, and literary cocktail parties. STELLA People with sense can belong wherever they're put. JEFF Can you see her tramping around the world with a camera bum who never has more than a week's salary in the bank? (Almost to himself) If only she was ordinary. Stella sprinkles powder on his back, spreads it around. THE CAMERA PULLS BACK as she helps Jeff to a sitting position. He buttons on his shirt. STELLA You're never going to marry? JEFF Probably. But when I do, it'll be to someone who thinks of life as more than a new dress, a lobster dinner, and the latest scandal. I need a woman who'll go anywhere, do anything, and love it. THE CAMERA MOVES IN as she helps him into the wheelchair, listening to him with exaggerated attention. He, stops as he notice her attitude. Then he goes on with less conviction: JEFF The only honest thing to do is call it off. Let her look for somebody else. STELLA I can just hear you now. "Get out of here you perfect, wonderful woman! You're too good for me!" JEFF (After pause) That's the hard part. She swings him around in front of the window. He starts to look out. STELLA Look, Mr. Jefferies. I'm not educated. I'm not even sophisticated. But I can tell you this -- when a man and a woman see each other, and like each other -- they should come together -- wham like two taxies on Broadway. Not sit around studying each other like specimens in at bottle. JEFF There's an intelligent way to approach marriage. STELLA (Scoffing) Intelligence! Nothing has caused the human race more trouble. Modern marriage! Jeff swings his chair back to look at her. JEFF We've progressed emotionally in -- STELLA (Interrupting) Baloney! Once it was see somebody, get excited, get married -- Now, it's read books, fence with four syllable words, psychoanalyze each other until you can't tell a petting party from a civil service exam JEFF People have different emotional levels that -- STELLA (Interrupting again) Ask for trouble and you get it. Why there's a good boy in my neighborhood who went with a nice girl across the street for three years. Then he refused to marry her. Why? -- Because she only scored sixty-one on a Look Magazine marriage quiz! Jeff can't help smiling. STELLA When I married Myles, we were both maladjusted misfits. We still are. And we've loved every minute of it. JEFF That's fine, Stella. Now would you make me a sandwich? She relaxes. STELLA Okay -- but I'm going to spread some common sense on the bread. Lisa Fremont's loaded to her fingertips with love for you. I'll give you two words of advice. Marry her. JEFF (Smiles) She pay you much? Stella leaves for the kitchen in a huff. Jeff turns his chair to the window. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP Jeff now looks out to see what has happened to the old lady, and the man with the flowers. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - SEMI-LONG SHOT The elderly lady is now asleep in her deck chair, her face covered with the Herald Tribune. There is no sign of the man with the flowers. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - CLOSEUP Jeff's eyes travel up to the ballet dancer's window. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - SEMI-LONG SHOT She is sitting near the window looking into an upright mirror. Dreamily, and methodically, she is brushing her long copper- colored hair. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - CLOSEUP His eyes are suddenly turned in another direction, sharply to his left. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - SEMI-LONG SHOT He is now looking at the windows of the apartments nearest to him. A shade has gone up, and a man, obviously a caretaker is raising a window with some effort. Having accomplished this, he turns back into the room, and we now see him approach a young man and woman who are standing just inside the doorway. He hands a key to the young man, and then obligingly brings in two suitcases which he places on the floor beside them. He gives them a studied, but agreeable nod, then departs. We now see that the girl has a small hat with a veil, and an ornate corsage pinned to her light blue tailored suit. The boy, who like the girl is perhaps twenty years old, wears a dark blue serge suit and a grey felt hat. He takes off the hat, and scales it over to a nearby chair. Quickly they are in each other's arms, kissing passionately, crushing the girl's corsage and pushing her hat back a little. They part, the boy laughs nervously, and takes a furtive glance out toward the corridor. He looks back into the room, and beckons her to come out. She follows him wonderingly. For a moment, both are lost from sight. When they reappear, he is carrying her in his arms, over the threshold. He sets her down, closes the door, and they kiss again. They part, still holding hands and looking into each other's eyes. Then slowly, and significantly, she looks toward the open window. He releases her hands, goes to the window and pull down the shade, as she is reaching upward with both hands to unpin her hat. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP There is a soft, understanding look on Jeff's face, and he gives an involuntary sigh. He is unaware that Stella is now standing behind him. STELLA (Quietly) Window shopper. He freezes, turns slowly to look up at her. FADE OUT: FADE IN: EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - NIGHT - SUNSET - LONG SHOT The CAMERA makes a short sweep around the neighborhood showing that some of the rooms are now with their lights on. The CAMERA PULLS BACK into Jeff's apartment until his head fills the screen. He is asleep. A shadow of some other person creeps over his face. His eyes start to open. He looks up. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - SUNSET - CLOSEUP The screen is filled with the eyes, nose and mouth of a woman coming nearer and nearer to the CAMERA to kiss Jeff. The face is more or less in shadow, a faint light coming onto the profile from the window. It moves down until the lips move out of her bottom of her screen, and just the remain for fill the screen. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - SUNSET - CLOSEUP The two big profiles filling the screen. The girl kisses Jeff firmly, but not passionately. Then her head moves back an inch or two. She speaks. LISA (Softly) How's your leg? JEFF Mmmm -- hurts a little. LISA And your stomach? JEFF Empty as a football. LISA And you love life? JEFF Not too active. LISA Anything else bothering you? JEFF Uh-huh. She gives a low. Warm laugh, and the CAMERA PULLS BACK to show that Lisa has been bending over Jeff's wheelchair from the side. As she straightens up, it PANS her swiftly over to the corner of the room, keeping her in big closeup. She turns on a low, hanging light. We see her full facial beauty for the first time. It is a warm, intelligent face. LISA (As she moves) Reading from top to bottom -- (Light on) Lisa -- The CAMERA FOLLOWS HER quickly to another lamp. She gets a little farther away from us so that we now see her down to her waist. She turns on the second lamp and the light shows us that her beauty is not alone in her face. LISA Carol -- The CAMERA PANS HER over to a third lamp which she turns on. She is now full figure, beautifully groomed and flawless. Her dress is high-style fashion and dramatic evening wear. LISA Fremont. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - SUNSET - SEMI-CLOSEUP Jeff looks across the room at her. JEFF The Lisa Fremont who never wears the same dress twice? INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - SUNSET - SEMI-LONG SHOT LISA Only because it's expected of her. She does a professional model's turn in the dress showing off its features. LISA Right off the Paris plane. Think it will sell? INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - SUNSET - SEMI-CLOSEUP Jeff replies: JEFF Depends on the quote. Let's see -- there's the plane tickets over, import duties, hidden taxes, profit markups -- LISA -- A steal at eleven hundred dollars. JEFF (A low whistle) That dress should be listed on the stock exchange. LISA We sell a dozen a day in this price range. JEFF Who buys them? Tax collectors? INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - SUNSET - MEDIUM SHOT She laughs pleasantly. LISA Even if I had to pay, it would be worth it -- just for the occasion. She looks down at the long mahogany table beside her which is littered with a number of his personal effects. Her own handbag is also on the table. As she talks her eyes scan the table as if she's looking for something specific. JEFF (Off -- puzzled) Something big going on somewhere? LISA (Looking up from the table) Going on right here. It's a big night. JEFF (Off) It's just a run-of-the-mill Monday. The calendar's loaded with them. Lisa finds what she has been looking for. Picks up an old and cracked cigarette box, examines it as she talks. LISA It's opening night of the last depressing week of L. B. Jefferies in a cast. JEFF (Off) Hasn't been any big demand for tickets. She turns to look at him, and moves toward him, carrying the cigarette box. LISA (Smiling) That's because I bought out the house. This cigarette box has seen better days. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - SUNSET - MEDIUM SHOT Lisa facing Jeff in the chair. JEFF Picked it up in Shanghai -- which has also seen better days. LISA It's cracked -- and you never use it. And it's too ornate. I'm sending up a plain, flat silver one -- with just your initials engraved. JEFF Now that's no way to spend your hard- earned money! LISA I wanted to, Jeff. (A sudden intake of breath) Oh! She turns around quickly and dashes to the door, dropping the cigarette box on the table as she passes, THE CAMERA PANNING with her. She goes up the two steps, stops, turns back to Jeff. LISA What would you think of starting off with dinner at the "21"? INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - SUNSET - SEMI-CLOSEUP JEFF You have, perhaps, an ambulance outside? INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - SUNSET - SEMI-LONG SHOT She reaches for the doorknob, turns it: LISA (Simply) Better than that. The "21." She swings open the door and stands to one side. Framed in the doorway is middle-aged waiter wearing a white linen pea jacket with a red collar. He's carrying in one hand a large portable warming oven, and in the other hand an ice bucket containing a bottle of wine covered with a napkin. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - SUNSET - CLOSEUP His reaction is one of tender amusement. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - SUNSET - MEDIUM SHOT LISA Thank you for waiting Carl. He smiles, nods enters. He goes down the stairs, as she follows. THE CAMERA GOES with both of them. LISA Kitchen's on the left. I'll take the wine. He hands her the wine bucket and she places it on the table. He moves toward the kitchen. CARL Good evening, Mr Jefferies. JEFF Hello. Carl goes into the kitchen. LISA (Up, to Carl) Just put everything right in the oven Carl. On "low." CARL (Off) Yes ma'am. LISA (Enthusiastically) Let's open the wine now. It's a Montrachet. JEFF (Appreciatively) A big glassful. She moves to a small bar set in the wall cabinet. Produces two glasses, hold them up. LISA Big enough? JEFF Fine. Corkscrew's on the right. She finds it. Puts the glasses on the table, uncovers the wine, and begins screwing in the corkscrew. LISA I couldn't think of anything more boring and tiresome than what you've been through. And the last week must be the hardest. JEFF Yeah -- I want to get this thing off and get moving. LISA (Struggling with cork) Well, I'm going to make this a week you'll never forget. Carl comes out of the kitchen carrying the empty warming oven. He sets it down he sees Lisa struggling with the corkscrew. CARL Let me, madam. She does. He takes out his own professional corkscrew, quickly inserts it and levers the cork out. He deftly wraps the napkin around the bottle and pours the wine, replacing the bottle in the wine bucket. Lisa has opened her purse to produce some money, in bills. She hands it to the waiter. LISA This will take care of the taxi as well. Carl, without looking at the money, puts it in his pocket. CARL Thank you, Miss Fremont. He picks up the warning oven. CARL Have a pleasant dinner, Mr. Jefferies. JEFF Thank you. Carl goes up the stairs and out the door, while THE CAMERA REMAINS on Lisa and Jeff. She picks up both glasses of wine and walks toward Jeff. She seats herself on the windowsill as she hands him his glass. We notice that the outside is considerably darker by now, and the lights are beginning to come on in the various apartments outside. They raise their glasses in a silent toast, and sip the wine. THE CAMERA CLOSES IN until they are both in a tight TOW SHOT. LISA What a day I've had! JEFF Tired? LISA Not a bit. I was all morning in a sales meeting. Then over to the Waldorf for a quick drink with Madame Dufresne -- just over from Paris. With some spy reports. Back to the "21" for lunch with the Harper's Bazaar people -- that's when I ordered dinner. Then two Fall showings -- twenty blocks apart. Then I had to have a cocktail with Leland and Slim Hayward -- we're trying to get his next show. (Softly, looking up to him) Then I had to dash back and change. JEFF (Mock seriousness -- one girl to another) Tell me -- what was Slim Hayward wearing? LISA (Seriously) She looked very cool. She had on a mint green -- She breaks off with a little laugh, and a slight reproachful look at Jeff. She sips her drink then says: LISA And to think, I planted three nice items about you in the columns today. Jeff's opinion of that is a short chuckle. LISA You can't buy that kind of publicity. JEFF That's good news. LISA Someday you might want to open up your own studio here. JEFF How could I run it from say -- Pakistan? She puts down her glass and slides along the window seat nearer to him, THE CAMERA CLOSING IN. She looks up at him with a serious frankness. LISA Jeff -- isn't it time you came home? You could pick your assignment. JEFF I wish there was one I wanted. LISA Make the one you want. JEFF (As if he can't believe her) You mean leave the magazine? LISA Yes. JEFF For what? LISA For yourself -- and me. (She adds eagerly) I could get you a dozen assignments tomorrow... fashion, portraits -- Jeff interrupts her with soft laughter. LISA (Offended) Don't laugh. -- I could do it! JEFF That's what I'm afraid of. (He gazes into space) Could you see me -- driving down to the fashion salon in a jeep -- wearing combat boots and a three day beard? (He chuckles at the thought) LISA I could see you looking handsome and successful in a dark blue flannel suit. JEFF (Looking directly at her) Let's not talk any more nonsense, huh? She stands up. THE CAMERA PULLS BACK. LISA I'd better start setting up for dinner. She moves away behind him, into the kitchen. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT NIGHT - SEMI-CLOSEUP Jeff gives a sigh of relief, exhaling his breath, then looks down toward his legs in thought. He holds this attitude for just a moment, then seems to shake off his concern to lift his head and turn his attention to what might be happening in his neighborhood beyond his window. Behind him we see the vague form of Lisa bringing in a card table, which she proceeds to unfold. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - NIGHT - SEMI-LONG SHOT Jeff's attention is concentrated on an apartment we have not seen before. This belongs to a single woman, about forty years of age. She lives alone. Her apartment is below that of the salesman with the invalid wife. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - CLOSEUP Jeff leans forward with increased interest. Behind him we get vague figure of Lisa laying a cloth over the card table. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - NIGHT - SEMI-LONG SHOT A nearer view show us a more intimate picture of the woman Jeff is concentrating on. She is thin and unattractive. At the moment, she is putting on her make-up in front of the bedroom mirror. She gives a half turn and picks up a pair of horn-rimmed glasses, which she puts on, and leans nearer to her mirror. She picks up a lipstick and proceeds to paint her lips carefully. Having completed her make-up, she takes off her glasses and surveys her face in the mirror. She stands up, swings the skirt of her dress around, admires herself in the mirror. She is quite flat-chested, and the dress hangs unattractively. She lifts her chin, gives one last look, and turns toward her living room. As if she's preparing to meet someone. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - CLOSEUP Without taking his eyes from the scene, Jeff picks up his wineglass and drinks. As he drinks, his eyes move slightly over. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD NIGHT - SEMI-LONG SHOT THE CAMERA HAS PANNED slightly to the woman's living room window. A small, candle-lit table is set up, with dinner for two. The spinster sweeps into the room, smiling. She goes to the door, opens it, and in pantomime admits an imaginary caller. She pretends to kiss him lightly, take his hat, and place the hat on a chair. Then she shows him to a seat at the table, disappears into an unseen kitchen and returns with a bottle and two glasses. She sits down, pours two drinks. She lifts her drink in a toast to the imaginary man opposite her. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - CLOSEUP Jeff gives a faint, sympathetic smile, and subconsciously raises his glass in response. In the background, Lisa, having just placed a pair of candlesticks on the table, is returning to the kitchen. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - NIGHT - SEMI-LONG SHOT Having finished her drink, the lonesome woman pours herself another one. Then she starts to take a sip, smiling across the table at her imaginary guest. She lowers the glass onto the table. The smile fades from her face as her head drops. Suddenly she buries her head in her arms over the table and starts to sob. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - SEMI-CLOSEUP Jeff, his glass in hand, looks out sympathetically. He is unaware that Lisa is standing behind him, and is also watching this little drama. LISA That's what is know as "manless melancholia." JEFF (Nods agreement) Miss Lonely Hearts. At least that's something you'll never have to worry about. LISA Oh? You can see my apartment all the way up on 63rd street? JEFF Not exactly -- but we have a little apartment here that's probably about as popular as yours. (He points) You, of course, remember Miss Torso. Both of them swing their eyes a little to the left. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD NIGHT - SEMI-LONG SHOT The kitchen-lining room combination of the ballet dancer's apartment has now been made more presentable. The ice box is now skillfully concealed by a large Chinese screen. All kitchen utensils have been put away, replaced by more attractive effects, and lamp light softens the surroundings. Miss Torso is now wearing a cocktail dress, which shows off her figure to great advantage, especially when she leans toward three assorted men to offer them a plate of hors d' oeuvres. She is the perfect hostess, animated, charming, and with an added personal touch for each guest. She is behaving with a sophistication which was not apparent when we first saw her in the morning. Her every movement is followed admiringly by the eyes of the three men -- one wearing black tie, with a touch of grey in his hair, a Long Island socialite -- a young rather handsome, actor in grey flannel suit -- and last, a bright, pleasant, young man who might possibly be from Wall street, wearing a blue-pin-striped suit. The latter two are engaged in an animated conversation. The young man in the grey suit is showing the other young man some newspaper cuttings he's taken from his pocket. Miss Torso sees that the cocktail glass of the third man is empty. She takes it over to the window, and starts to fill it. The man in the tuxedo follows her over, with a casual glance toward the other two. He stands beside her as she makes the drink. He looks at his watch with some impatience, and makes a side comment to her as to the lateness of the time. She turns, gives him a light kiss on his cheek, as if she's telling him to be patient. Instead of pacifying him, it makes him more amorous, and he puts an arm around her shoulder an plants a heavy kiss on her cheek. She turns to face him, they look into each other's eyes a moment, and she allows herself to be kissed on the lips -- but only long enough so as to attract the attention of the other two men. With a little admonishing look, she moves away from him, and makes him rejoin the other two. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - SEMI-CLOSEUP Jeff turns and looks up to Lisa with a grin. JEFF Well, she picked the most prosperous looking one. LISA She's not in love with him -- or any of them. JEFF How can you tell that -- from here? LISA You said it resembled my apartment, didn't you? She moves away with a significant look to him. THE CAMERA MOVES IN until Jeff is in semi-closeup, alone. He ponders over her last remark, then changes his look to another direction. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - NIGHT - MEDIUM SHOT The newlyweds's apartment has the shades still drawn. Although there's a light burning inside. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - SEMI-CLOSEUP There is a slight, but warm, smile on Jeff's face as he looks at the drawn shade. His eyes move away from the newlyweds' apartment, and slowly explore the neighborhood to his right. He finds something of interest, and stops to stare at it. His face sobers at what he sees. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - NIGHT - SEMI-LONG SHOT The salesman's apartment. We see both the living room and the bedroom. The salesman has prepared a dinner tray, and is carrying it from the kitchen, through the lining room, into the bedroom. He places it on the lap of his wife, sitting up in bed. He puts a couple of pillows behind her back to make her more comfortable. She doesn't bother to thank him, but is busy examining the content of the tray. Her attitude shows her dissatisfaction. Nothing is right. It's not what she wanted, and it's badly prepared. She begins criticizing him. He starts to answer her back, but decides better of it, and instead, leaves the room. He goes to the kitchen reaches up to a wall cabinet, takes down a bottle and pours himself a drink. Then he returns to the lining room, listens a moment. The wife is grudging beginning to eat the dinner. The husband quietly lifts a phone from the cradle, and dials a number. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - CLOSEUP Jeff becomes completely absorbed with he sees. He leans forward a little. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - NIGHT - MEDIUM SHOT We get a better view of the salesman waiting while his connection is being made. Whoever he has called answers. And instantly there is a marked change in his attitude. He relaxes, smiles, is warm. He talks softly, perhaps guardedly, with an occasional glance at the bedroom door. In the bedroom, his wife has become aware of the call. Quietly she moves the tray, gets out of bed, and goes to the bedroom door to listen. The wall hides her from our view. Then suddenly, she apparently opens the door, because the living room, we see her arm suddenly appear, pointing at the man and the telephone. He speaks quickly into the phone, and hangs up. His face is flushed and angry as he goes toward the bedroom. In the bedroom his wife appears walking back to the bed, followed by the husband. She is laughing, and he is answering her in angry tones. She climbs in bed laughing. The more she laughs, the more angry he gets, and the harder she laughs. Finally, he leaves the room, goes into the living room, back into the kitchen and has another drink. He stands there, controlling an outburst of emotion, and seems almost to be crushing the shot glass in his clenched fist. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - SEMI-CLOSEUP While Jeff has been engaged in watching this little drama, the SOUND of a piano has started. He now diverts his attention from the salesman's apartment to the source of the piano music. He turns his eyes in the direction of the composer's apartment. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - NIGHT - SEMI-LONG SHOT Through the studio window of the song-writer's apartment we see the man at work again on his original melody, and he is farther along the line of the melody than before. It is beginning to take some shape, and give promise of its full beauty. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - SEMI-CLOSEUP Jeff, listening to the composer. His head turns as Lisa's voice comes over: LISA (Emerging from kitchen) Where's that music coming from? THE CAMERA QUICKLY PULL BACK as Jeff swings his chair around. Lisa is emerging from the kitchen, carrying the serving dish of their lobster thermidor. JEFF Oh... some songwriter. In the studio apartment. Lives alone. Probably had an unhappy marriage. LISA (Putting down the food) I think it's enchanting. She pulls up a chair and seats herself at the card table. We now observe that two small lit candles adorn the table, and the rest of the room lights are out. LISA Almost as if it were being written especially for us. JEFF (Pleasantly) No wonder he's having so much trouble with it. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - CLOSEUP A faint shade of disappointment is seen on Lisa's face; but she quickly recovers and looks down at the table. LISA Well, at least you can't say the dinner isn't right. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - CLOSEUP Jeff looks at her soberly. JEFF Lisa, it's perfect (Looks down at the food, without enthusiasm) As always. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - CLOSEUP The brightness drains from Lisa's face, and she lowers her eyes slowly toward the table. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - MEDIUM SHOT Lisa slowly helping Jeff to lobster from the main dish. LAP DISSOLVE TO: INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - MEDIUM SHOT Shooting over Jeff's shoulder we see beyond him the divan- bed upon which Lisa is stretched out. There is one light burning, behind Lisa's head. A fierce discussion is in progress. Lisa gesticulates with her hands, body and legs. LISA There can't be that much difference between people and the way they live! We all eat, talk, drink, laugh, sleep, wear clothes -- Jeff raises both his hands. JEFF Well now, look -- Lisa draws back one leg, and points a finger challengingly. LISA If you're saying all this just because you don't want to tell me the truth, because you're hiding something from me, then maybe I can understand -- JEFF There's nothing I'm hiding. It's just that -- LISA (Won't let him break in) It doesn't make sense to me. What's so different about it here from over there, or any place you go, that one person couldn't live in both places just as easily? JEFF Some people can. Now if you'll let me explain -- LISA (Ignores him) What is it but traveling from one place to another, taking pictures? It's just like being a tourist on an endless vacation. JEFF All right. That's your opinion. You're entitled to it, but -- LISA It's ridiculous for you to say that it can only be done by a special, private little group of anointed people. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - SEMI-CLOSEUP Jeff begin to get desperate. JEFF I made a simple, but true statement and I'll back it up, if you'll just shut up for a minute! INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - MEDIUM SHOT Lisa, stretched out on the divan. She looks at him for a moment without speaking. Then: LISA If your opinion is as rude as your manner, I'm not sure I want to hear it. We see Jeff's hand coming to the foreground with a restraining gesture. JEFF (Soothing her) Lisa, simmer down -- will you? LISA (Something starts her up again) You can't fit in here -- I can't fit in there. According to you, people should be born, live an die on the same -- JEFF (Loud, sharp) Lisa! Shut up! Lisa turns on her side, and stares into the room, angrily. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - SEMI-CLOSEUP After a moment of silence, Jeff says earnestly: JEFF Did you ever eat fish heads and rice? LISA Of course not. JEFF You might have to, if you went with me. Ever try to keep warm in a C-54, at fifteen thousand feet, at twenty below zero? INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - SEMI-CLOSEUP Lisa, still looking out into the room, and without turning, says: LISA Oh, I do that all the time. Whenever I have a few minutes after lunch. JEFF Ever get shot at, run over, sandbagged at night because people got unfavorable publicity from your camera? She doesn't answer, obviously annoyed at the unnecessary questions. JEFF Those high heels would be a lot of use in the jungle -- and those nylons and six-ounce lingerie -- LISA (Quickly) Three. JEFF Well, they'd be very stylish in Finland -- just before you froze to death. Begin to get the idea? She turns at last, and looks across at him. LISA If there's one thing I know, it's how to wear the proper clothes. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - MEDIUM SHOT SHOOTING OVER LISA'S SHOULDER, and down her body, with Jeff in the chair beyond. Jeff says, as if remembering some old experience: JEFF Huh? Try and find a raincoat in Brazil. Even when it isn't raining (Squints at her) Lisa, on this job you carry one suitcase. Your home is the available transportation. You sleep rarely, bathe even less, and sometime the food you even look at when they were alive! LISA Jeff, you don't have to be deliberately repulsive just to impress me I'm wrong. JEFF If anything, I'm making it sound good. (A thoughtful pause) Let's face it, Lisa... you aren't made for that kind of a life. Few people are. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - CLOSEUP Lisa realizes she is getting nowhere. LISA You're too stubborn to argue with. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - CLOSEUP Jeff, getting angry. JEFF I'm not stubborn! I'm truthful! INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - CLOSEUP Lisa, with sarcasm. LISA I know. A lesser man would have told me it was one long holiday -- and I would have awakened to a rude disillusionment. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - CLOSEUP Jeff is definitely angry. JEFF Now if you want to get vicious, I'd be very happy to accommodate you! INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - CLOSEUP Lisa starts to rise from the divan, THE CAMERA PANNING UP. She moves away from THE CAMERA into the center of the room, as she says: LISA (Wearily) No. I don't particularly want that. (She turns, faces him) So that's it. You won't stay here -- I can't go with you. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - CLOSEUP Jeff looks across at her with some concern. JEFF It would be the wrong thing. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - MEDIUM SHOT Lisa, from Jeff's viewpoint. LISA You don't think either one of us could ever change? JEFF Right now, it doesn't seem so. Lisa begins to move around the room assembling her possessions preparatory to leaving. She puts a comb, and other effects, into a handbag. She gets her stole. All this as she talks. LISA (Simply) I'm in love with you. I don't care what you do for a living. Somehow I would just like to be part of it. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - SEMI-CLOSEUP Jeff starts to say something then thinks better of it, and remains silent. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - MEDIUM SHOT Lisa pauses in the act of gathering her things together. LISA And it's deflating to find out that the only way I can be part of it -- is to take out a subscription to your magazine. I guess I'm not the girl I thought I was. JEFF There's nothing wrong with you, Lisa. You have the town in the palm of your hand. LISA (Looks at Jeff) Not quite -- it seems. (Tosses a stole over her shoulder) Goodbye, Jeff. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - CLOSEUP JEFF You mean "goodnight." LISA I mean what I said. Jeff's eyes follow her up the steps toward the door. He calls out to her, impulsively, as we HEAR the SOUND of the door opening. JEFF Lisa! INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - SEMI-LONG SHOT Lisa turns in the half-opened door. JEFF Can't we just sort of keep things status quo? LISA Without any future? INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - SEMI LONG SHOT Jeff tries to be pleasant, and offhand. JEFF Well -- when'll I see you again? INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - CLOSEUP Lisa, standing in the open doorway. LISA Not for a long time. Not, at least until -- (She begins smiling) -- tomorrow night. Continues smiling as she close the door softly behind her. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - CLOSEUP The pleasantness on Jeff's face slowly melts into baffled discouragement. He reaches for a nearby phone picks up the receiver, dials. It buzzes on filter. Receiver up on filter. GUNNISON (Filter) Hello. JEFF Gunnison? GUNNISON Yeah. Is that you, Jeff? JEFF It's me. GUNNISON Something wrong? JEFF The word is "everything." Now what time does my plane leave Tuesday? GUNNISON (Unhappy) Jeff -- JEFF (Won't give him time to argue) I don't care where it goes -- just as long as I'm on it. GUNNISON (Wearily, after pause) Okay. Indo-China. Tuesday. We'll pick you up. JEFF That's more like it. Goodnight, old buddy. GUNNISON Yeah. Jeff hangs up, looks up to the door through which Lisa left. He's not particularly happy. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - SEMI-CLOSEUP Jeff returns to the window. He lights a cigarette and smokes it peacefully, as he contemplates the neighborhood. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - NIGHT - SEMI-LONG SHOT The CAMERA slowly sweeps over the various apartments with an odd window lit here and there. In the distant street there is still some traffic passing, with one or two pedestrians going by. THE CAMERA completes its sweep, and starts to move back again. Somewhere a dog howls. The PANNING CAMERA comes to a sudden halt. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - CLOSEUP Jeff smiles a little, but as the howl continues, his expressions sobers. His eyes begin to scan the neighborhood, as if looking for the source. He fails to find it, and sits there, puzzled and disturbed. The scene, and the sound of the dog: FADE OUT: FADE IN: INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - SEMI-CLOSEUP Jeff's chair is turned facing the window so that we see the darkened room behind him. There is just one side light burning, which illuminates the side of his face. His head nods sleepily as he dozes. He opens his eyes and looks out, as a slight sound of rain starts. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - NIGHT - LONG SHOT From his viewpoint we see the first few drops of rain starting to fall. It is sort, gentle rain, not a downpour. There are still some windows lit in the neighborhood. The apartment house corridors all have small night lights burning. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - CLOSEUP Jeff wakens a little more fully as his attentions is drawn to: EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - NIGHT - MEDIUM SHOT The couple who sleep on the fire escape. The increasing rain cause them to hastily gather their things to retreat inside. The man, hurriedly untying the alarm clock from the railing of the fire escape, lets it slip through his fingers. As if falls to the garden below, the CAMERA FANS SWIFTLY down with it. When the clock hits the ground, the alarm goes off sending a shrill sound through the neighborhood. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - CLOSEUP Jeff smiles at the incident, and then lowers his eyes slightly as something else catches his attention. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - NIGHT - MEDIUM SHOT Coming out of his apartment into the corridor on the floor below is the salesman with the nagging wife. The shades are drawn in his apartment, but a light burns dimly behind them. The salesman carries a large aluminum suitcase -- the same one we saw him with earlier in the day. The sound of the alarm startles him. He turns toward the window a moment listening. Then reassured that is is nothing important, he turns and moves down the corridor. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - CLOSEUP Jeff is puzzled. He looks down a moment in thought. Then he darts his eyes and swings them toward the left. He looks steadily toward the distant street corner. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - NIGHT - SEMI-LONG SHOT The street corner, lighted by a lamp, is deserted. A moment later, the salesman, still carrying the suitcase, moves diagonally across the corner, head down against the rain. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - SEMI-CLOSEUP Jeff looks wonderingly at this nocturnal activity. Then he looks down at his wristwatch. INSERT Jeff's watch reads 1:55. QUICK FADE OUT: QUICK FADE IN: INSERT The watch now reads 2:35. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - CLOSEUP More puzzled, allows his eyes to travel from the street to the apartment corridor. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - NIGHT - MEDIUM SHOT The salesman is see coming down the corridor to his apartment, still carrying the aluminum case. He quickly enters his apartment door in a business-like manner. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - CLOSEUP Jeff starts to assume a thoughtful air, when he is startled by a light which falls across his face from the right. He looks toward the light. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - NIGHT - MEDIUM SHOT The light comes from the song-writer's apartment. His door is open, and he is hanging onto the door frame, his hand still on the light switch. He surveys his apartment. He appears rather drunk. He comes into the apartment, closes the door behind him, and sways a little. He wears a hat, pushed back on his forehead, and no raincoat. His clothes are quite wet. He might have even fallen. He looks disgustedly at the piano, then lurches toward it. There is no doubt now as the state of his drunkenness. At the piano he viciously sweeps all the note paper off the music stand. This seems to give him some satisfaction, but he loses his balance, twists sideways, and fall into a nearby chair. He remains there, bleary-eyed and a little sick. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - SEMI-CLOSEUP What he has observed seems to give Jeff an idea. He moves his wheelchair backward and to the left alongside the side board. Awkwardly, with his left hand, he reaches up for a bottle of whiskey. He cradles the bottle in his lap, and reaches for a tumbler. He then wheels back to the window, and pours himself a good, long drink. He lifts up the glass, starts to drink, but something happening beyond his window startles him and he stops in the middle of his drink, his eyes a little wider then usual. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - NIGHT - SEMI-LONG SHOT The salesman is again leaving his apartment with his aluminum suitcase. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - CLOSEUP Jeff's eyes travel down to the street. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - NIGHT - SEMI-LONG SHOT A brief moment or two. Then the salesman, carrying his aluminum case, crosses the street. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - CLOSEUP Jeff's face is expressionless. He just stares. FADE OUT: FADE IN: INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - CLOSEUP Jeff's head is nodding and dozing again. The side light from the song-writer's apartment is no longer on his face. Jeff's eyes open, then his head comes up quickly, trying to clear the sleep from his mind, as he remembers the object of his vigilance. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - NIGHT - MEDIUM SHOT The salesman's apartment shows the shades drawn and a dim light burning behind them. The CAMERA PANS to the empty corridor. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - CLOSEUP Jeff's eyes turn sharply in the direction of the street. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - NIGHT - SEMI-LONG SHOT The street is deserted. At the right hand side of the screen a light goes on. THE CAMERA PANS OVER and we see that Miss Torso has returned from her date. She is wearing a three- quarter length coat over her evening dress. She is inside, with the door two-thirds closed, but she leans out to kiss someone goodnight. Then it takes some coaxing to get the door completely closed. She turns the key in the lock. She listens a moment then comes to the center of the room. She takes her coat off and drapes it over chair. She removes the screen in front of the ice box, then opens the ice box. She searches it for something to eat; finds a big piece of pumpkin pie. She closes the ice box. She starts to eat the pie as she moves in the direction of the bathroom. Stopping a moment, she puts the piece of pie on a table, and proceeds to take off her dress. Undoing the zippers, she slides it over her head as she passes into the bathroom. The dress is thrown on a nearby chair, and the bare arm picks up a piece of pie. She is now in the bathroom. We see her slip down the brassiere straps, but the window does not permit us to see any lower. As she munches on the pie, she pulls out a few pins holding up her hair, which she proceeds to brush rhythmically. She turns and moves down her bare back. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - CLOSEUP Jeff's eyes suddenly switch to the street. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - NIGHT - SEMI LONG SHOT We catch a quick glimpse of the salesman, just passing the alleyway, suitcase in hand. The CAMERA PANS across the ballet dancer's apartment, over to the salesman's apartment. It waits, until he appears in the corridor. He enters his apartment. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - CLOSEUP Jeff sits in his wheelchair, looking quietly out at the neighborhood, sleep beginning to take hold on him again. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - NIGHT - LONG SHOT THE CAMERA PANS slightly over the whole of the neighborhood. The lights in Miss Torso's apartment snap out. Only one light remains. It burns behind the drawn shades of the salesman's apartment. FADE OUT: FADE IN: INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAWN - CLOSEUP A big head of Jeff. He is still in his wheelchair, sound asleep. The CAMERA PANS off his face, out through the window. The rain has stopped, and the general light of dawn is coming up. The CAMERA COMES TO REST on the salesman's apartment and corridor, which is still dimly lit by the electric lights. We see the salesman emerge into the corridor, pause a moment to allow a woman to proceed him. Her back is to the CAMERA and we do not see her face. They move away, down the corridor. The CAMERA PANS BACK into Jeff's sleeping face. FADE OUT: FADE IN: EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - LONG SHOT It is now mid-morning. The sun is shining. Miss Torso is practicing her dance to the sound of ballet music. We can hear the song-writer at work, but the thing that attracts our attention mostly, is some action that emanates from the fire escape where the couple sleep at night. On a long rope, the woman is lowering an open wicker basket in which sits a small dog. When is reaches the yard below, the CAMERA PANNING DOWN, the dog steps out and runs off to explore the yard. The woman pulls up the basket, and leaves it on the fire escape. The CAMERA PULL BACK into Jeff's apartment where Stella is busy massaging Jeff's back at he lies face down on the divan. STELLA You'd think the rain would have cooled things off. All it did was make the heat wet. Stella hits a sore muscle in Jeff's back. He jumps. JEFF That's a stiff one. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - MEDIUM SHOT A low camera has Jeff's head on the foreground, with Stella just behind him, at work on his back. She attacks the sore muscle vigorously. STELLA The insurance Company would be a lot happier if you slept in your bed, not the wheelchair. JEFF (Between clenched teeth) How did you know! STELLA Eyes bloodshot. Must have been staring out the window for hours. JEFF I was. STELLA (Massaging harder) What'll you do if one of them catches you? JEFF Depends one which one. She stops massaging, reaches for the oil. JEFF Now Miss Torso, for example -- Stella hits his back with a palmful of cold oil. It takes his breath. STELLA Keep your mind off her. JEFF She's real eat, drink and be merry girl. STELLA And she'll end up fat, alcoholic and miserable. JEFF Speaking of misery, Miss Lonely Hearts drank herself to sleep again. Alone. STELLA Poor girl. Someday she'll find her happiness. JEFF And some man will lose his. STELLA Isn't there anyone in the neighborhood who might cast an eye in her direction? JEFF Well, the salesman could be available soon. STELLA (Interested in the scandal) He and his wife splitting up? JEFF It's hard to figure. He went out several time last night, in the rain carrying his sample case. STELLA (So?) Isn't he a salesman? JEFF Now what could he sell at three in the morning? STELLA (Shrugs) Flashlights. Luminous dials for watches. House numbers that light up. JEFF He was taking something out of the apartment. I'm certain. She helps him to a sitting position. STELLA His personal effects. He's probably running away -- the coward. JEFF Sometimes it's worse to stay than it is to run. STELLA (Looks at him) But it takes a particularly low type of man to do it. Jeff turns his head away for a moment. She helps him into the chair. Hands him his shirt, which he proceeds to put on. The back of his chair is to the window. STELLA (Putting oil and power away) What about this morning? Any developments? JEFF No. The shades are still drawn in their apartment. STELLA (stops) In this heat? (Turns, looks over his shoulder) They're up now. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP He quickly turns his wheelchair around to the window until he is in profile. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - SEMI-LONG SHOT The salesman, having just raised the shades in the living room, is now looking out the window. It is not a casual look, but a long, careful, searching appraisal of all the apartment house windows in his neighborhood, starting from his left to his right. His eyes move closer toward Jeff's apartment. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - MEDIUM SHOT Jeff in his chair, facing the window, Stella beside him. Jeff nearly knocks the startled Stella off her feet with his arm. JEFF Get back! Out of sight! Quick! He propels his chair backward quickly, and Stella moves to the side with surprising agility. They are both in shadow. STELLA (A startled whisper) What is it? What's the matter? Jeff keeps his eyes trained on the window. JEFF (Quietly) The salesman's looking out his window. Stella relaxes, gives Jeff a disgusted look, and starts to move out of the shadows. STELLA A Federal offense. JEFF (Sharply) Get back there! He'll see you! She moves back into the shadows. STELLA I'm not shy. I've been looked at before. JEFF (Still peering toward window) It's not an ordinary look. It's the kind of look a man gives when he's afraid somebody might be watching him. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - SEMI-LONG SHOT The salesman completes his searching glance at the neighborhood. Then something directly below his window catches his attention. He looks sharply downward, his body visibly tensing. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - MEDIUM SHOT Jeff, with a restraining hand to Stella, begins to edge his chair cautiously forward so that he can see what the salesman is looking at. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - SEMI-LONG SHOT THE CAMERA MOVES FORWARD, and as it reaches the edge of the window, PANS DOWN and shows us what the salesman is looking at. The little dog that was lowered in the basket is sniffing at the salesman's personal flower bed. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - CLOSEUP Jeff's eyes move up quickly to look at the salesman. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - SEMI-LONG SHOT The salesman leans forward and grips the window sill as he watches the dog. The CAMERA PANS DOWN and we now see that the old lady with the hearing aid is leaning over the fence admonishing the dog. We can faintly hear her voice saying something to the effect that he'll get into trouble. The dog turns to glance at her and apparently taking heed, moves away. The old lady is wearing a faded house-robe. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - CLOSEUP Jeff is amused at the dog incident. Behind him, Stella moves to the center of the room, saying: STELLA Goodbye, Mr. Jefferies. I'll see you tomorrow. JEFF (Grunts) Uh-huh. She begins putting her equipment back into her black bag. Jeff's eyes lift to the salesman's apartment, and the amusement drains from his face. He leans forward a little, tensely. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - SEMI-LONG SHOT The salesman has his aluminum case on the table near the center of the room. He is carefully wiping out the interior with dust cloth. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP Jeff watching intently. Stella putting the last of her things into her bag. STELLA And don't sleep in the chair again. Jeff continues to what the salesman, his face showing a great concentration of thought. JEFF Uh-huh. Stella picks up her bag, stares at Jeff's back a moment, then starts for the door. STELLA Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Great conversationalist. Jeff swings half-way around in his chair just as Stella reaches the top of the steps. JEFF Stella. She turns around. Jeff points to a coat-stand near the door. JEFF (Goes on quickly) Will you take those binoculars out of the case and bring them to me. She puts down her bag, reaches for the binoculars, takes them out the case. She comes down the stairs, brings them to him. He immediately swings to the window, and lifts them to his eyes. Stella sniffs, then goes to the door, as she says: STELLA Trouble. I cam smell it. I'll be glad when they crack that cast, and I get out of here. As Stella goes out the door, the CAMERA MOVES IN until Jeff's head, and the binoculars, are filling the screen. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - SEMI-LONG SHOT The salesman has completed his cleaning of the case. He is in the act of placing it on the floor. He turns and again glances out of the window. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - CLOSEUP Jeff quickly lowers the binoculars and edges back a few inches. He watches a moment, then cautiously lifts the binoculars again. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - SEMI-LONG SHOT - (DAY) The man is now moving out of the living room, and the binoculars PAN him though to the small kitchen which is seen through a side window. The man starts to busy himself in this kitchen with his back to us, but the image is very unsatisfactory. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP Jeff lowers the binoculars and there is an expression of exasperation on his face. He throws the binoculars down, and then looks about him. He backs his chair up quickly toward the main cabinet on his left. He leans down, opens a cupboard door and takes out a long-focus lens. Then from a shelf above he takes a small Exacta camera. He quickly takes off the existing lens and puts on the telephoto lens in its place. He wheels himself back to the window and raises the camera to his eye. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - CLOSE SHOT Through the view-finder of the camera, we are now brought into close proximity with the salesman in his little kitchen. His back is still to us. He half-turns and takes a used newspaper. He spreads it open, along the drainboard. From the sink he takes out a large butcher's knife, and a long, narrow saw. They disappear from sight as he lays them on the newspaper and proceeds to wrap them up. Having completed his job, he emerges from the kitchen carrying the newspaper- wrapped parcel. For a moment he is lost behind the wall that separates the kitchen recess from the living room. He does not reappear for a moment. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - CLOSEUP Jeff lowers the camera for a moment, and watches tensely. Suddenly he puts it up to his eye again. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - CLOSE SHOT Half of a man's body is now seen in the living room. Then the salesman turns and moves to the center of the room. He is not carrying anything. He sits down on a couch, with a display of fatigue. He yawns and stretches out of sight at full length on the couch. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - CLOSEUP Jeff lowers the camera. He watches the living room for a moment. Then his eye travels briefly back to the kitchen; then return to the living room. His brow knits a little as we: FADE OUT: FADE IN: EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - NIGHT - CLOSEUP The thermometer outside of Jeff's window, registering 83 degrees. The CAMERA PANS OFF to the left until it comes to rest on the song-writer's studio. He is dressed only in bathing trunks, and is vigorously cleaning his rug with a carpet sweeper. In the middle of his sweeping, he stops, hurries a step or two to the piano. He plays a couple of notes with one hand, while he stands. Listens, plays them again. Decides they are no good, and returns to his carpet sweeping. THE CAMERA PANS FARTHER LEFT to the salesman's apartment. There are no lights burning behind the drawn shade of the bedroom, but the living room and the kitchen are lighted. There is no sign of the salesman. THE CAMERA CONTINUES ITS PAN to the left, to include the couple who sleep on the fire escape in the hot weather. We now get an opportunity to examine these people more closely. The man is balding, and middle-aged. He is wearing