Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

- I love you, St Clair. - Hmm. With knobs on.
<i>♪ I'd rather die</i>
- Thank you, sir. - Thank you.
Sorry.
Can you imagine what that must feel like?
- How was Augustus's play? - Oh, terrible.
Why don't we go away for a few days, yes? Golf? Hamptons?
- Surely he'd understand. - It's too late.
of the Brooklyn Orchestra for Distressed Gentlewomen,
Kiss monster.
No, shh, shh. Shh, shh. Shush, my love. Shh, shh.
Course, he did cut me off,
Bravo, my love.
- Goodbye. - Bye.
He's a desperate man.
But I'm a first-rate friend, the latter outweighing the former, I feel.
- I'm so excited! - It's a wonderful idea, Bunny.
Welcome, Mr McMoon.
Her phrasing is haphazard.
"And the consensus was that she'd never sung better."
- Oh, phooey. - So I think it'd...
Oh, no, please don't remind me.
And no one would enjoy seeing you triumph here more than I, obviously.
You will buy the papers in the morning, won't you?
<i>♪ I'll sing no more...</i>
Kathleen, try this one. I did suggest it earlier.
But you've never sounded better.
Thank you, Madam Florence.
The <i>Post,</i> please. Thank you.
Give the dame a break! She's singing her heart out.
I'll talk to her.
How do you do, sir? I saw you conduct <i>La Bohème</i> last season.
Bravo, Madam Florence! Bravo!
They're going to love you.
And I had very high hopes of becoming a concert pianist mys...
<i>Mr Crooks, would you play Brahms's "Lullaby"?</i>
How about that?
<i>♪ Et riant a la nuit</i>
- What loveliness. - Hmm.
Very good. We'll... We'll be in touch.
Oh, golly. Oh, golly gosh.
Will you forgive me? I have an important nose to powder.
<i>♪ Ah, ha, ha, ha, ha!</i>
- I shall. - Good morning, Patrick.
Oh, baby!
Bravo!
Cosmé McMoon from San Antonio, Texas, played Carnegie Hall.
and go and join the hepcats?
Hoodlums! Hoodlums as you call them, Mr Totten,
And at this dark moment in our history,
Hmm.
Alright, alright.
Find a breath, Florence.
How did she get on the radio?
That hack knows absolutely nothing.
- She's in the hall. - Ah. Thank you.
But once I had, I felt free from the tyranny of ambition.
- Oh, nuts. - Give me some fries with that shake!
Well, it's quite a house, Bunny.
<i>- ♪ You amuse me</i> - For God's sake, woman, keep quiet.
- Very good. I'll take that. - Thank you, Mr Bayfield.
<i>♪ Ha! Ha!</i>
- We've been rehearsing for a month. - Well, I know.
They're all rather... heavy-handed, I'm afraid.
- Bunny, you must relax. - Where is he? Where is Cosmé?
Madam Florence is taking to the stage once more?
Oh, the <i>Post</i> always covers Carnegie Hall.
Kathleen! Wait!
Hmm. You take the words right out of my mouth.
Thank you. Tickets, please.
Yeah, it is, isn't it?
- Really? - Yes, I played at the White House.
- Mr Wilson, are you leaving already? - Here you are, sir.
I was performing in a musicale at the Waldorf, 1919.
Dance, St Clair, dance. I wanna see you dance.
The Verdi luncheon always begins with a soup. You know that.
There's work to be done.
- Already? How come? - You won't believe it.
Course, he came round eventually and then I was back in the will.
We now come to the finale of our evening.
Well, my second cousin twice removed has been married twice before
It was a lovely weekend.