The Star

There's an auction in progress tonight in Hollywood. Lots of people in searchlights and valleys. They're selling the personal effects of Margaret Elliot, a famous motion picture star. Around the corner from the auction is a little coffee shop.

I don't know what got into you Maggie, standing there watching them sell your furniture, your clothes, your silver. Going, going, gone. What were you doing there, Harry? Or is that part of an agent's job?

Watching them pictures cry on phone. Oh, now take it easy, Maggie, and listen to me. Don't touch me. You can do anything, can't you, Harry? But get me a decent part in a picture. Harry's phone, the great star maker, the gentleman agent.

My friend. I am your friend. I know. I know I'm sorry. Harry, I saw in variety that Joe Morrison's going to produce the simple winces. You had an option on that story. What? I love that book.

It could have been written for me. Harry, go to Joe, will you? One good picture is all I need. Maggie, you have to face a few facts. But they can't put me out to past you.

I was a star, Harry. As big as they come. Look, I've been your friend for a long time. I love you, but there's no denying that fresh, dewy quality. But something else takes its place.

You tell me how to stay dewy in this town. I know it's tough. That's what the public wants. This nuclear mine's got it. Laura Belden. Morris and find her last week. Laura Belden. Tari. Go to Morris and tell him how much I love the fatal winter.

That could impress me. One good part would put me back just where I was. The sergeant, desperate for money. I won't get anything from the auction that all got of accredited. I was wondering if you.