The bad news:
Thelma Dudley has just received a letter from her lover – Minna – telling her that she will be unable to break away from her responsibilities in Sweden and cannot take a flight – as was planned – out to see her. Thelma sits at her piano and sulks, not touching a single key. Suddenly her press agent walks in with a horde of photographers.
“Selma Darling, 3 pictures and we’ll be out, you know how it is, come here ma belle, allez venez!” Said Maurice Petro.
Thelma sits quietly and still at her piano, her back turned towards the door which is spewing out photographers and reporters.
Maurice shoos them out and walks over to Thelma. “Thelma, ma belle, Que’est ce qui se passe? Do you want some water?”
“Water? What I should want…is for you to die today you lousy lilliputians! All of you, get out, get out! I’m not your dog anymore, when you say ‘come’ I will snarl and bark at you!” Selma runs into the farther room clutching at her hair and beating her temples.
Maurice approaches the door and hears Tchaikovsky’s 4th blaring. “Thelma, open the door. Please, Thelma.”
Thelma searches frantically for glasses and pill jars. “Thelma!” Maurice shouts and runs to the others in the apartment, “I don’t know what’s happened but I am sure Thelma is not well and we must break down her door quickly, allez!”
Thelma is stuffing pills into her mouth and washing them down with gulps of whisky while clutching a letter opener.
Maurice and the others manage to bust through the lock on the door and rush over to Thelma who is already prepared, hunched like some untamed creature of the forest, the letter opener poised for attack.
Maurice and the two other men with him flank Thelma and wrestle her knife away. “Thelma” Maurice says while holding her down, “What has happened to you? Who did this to you?”
“You!” She exclaims and collapses in a heap of tears.
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