Pardon? Pardon?
Where am I headed? That's right.
Uh, now? Yes.
Here.
Salt?
I don't understand what you're talking about.
I'm a newspaperman. This is the story I've always prayed I'd do.
Finally my editor gave in.
i guess I wore him down.
What story? Story about what?
You.
Did you ever think to ask if I wanted that?
Did it never occur to you to ask permission?
Of all the unmitigated, presumptuous gall!
There's no call to use big words.
Okay, here's a short one. "Out." How?
I can't get back on my own.
ust aim straight downhill.
Deke Lewis will be back in two weeks. No, now!
Miss Porter, I'll die out there.
Life is full of little trade-offs.
i mean it. I mean it. i
I washed the dishes.
I washed the dishes, and you're chopping wood.
I gotta get out of here. Well, you talked me into it.
I don't suppose you have any cigarettes, do you?
There's nothing personal in this. I'm sure you're a f ne newspaperman.
But I do serious work here, in private and in peace.
I'm not a pop singer. I don't have a million records to sell.
Publicity is trite and trivial.
Reporters are parasites.
They feed off the accomplishments of other people.
I don't see newspapers much, but what I do see sickens me.
They only cost 20 cents.
can I ask you a question?
What's a nice girl like me doing in a place like this? No comment.
Make that "godforsaken place like this."
Godforsaken?
come on. Where are we going?
church. Pardon?
church. The oldest one in America.