What a great car you have.
- Where are you headed?
- That depends.

Where are you headed?
You're late, Ben.
I know that, dear boy.
- What's up?
- They're all waiting in the study.

- You didn't answer my question, dear boy.
- That's because I'm not your dear boy.

Once we file for divorce,
it's a matter of public record.

Polly Reed's nose is in the wind.
- My secretary's saying I'm in Palm Springs.
- I have to say something.

You could not have picked a worse time.
As your press agent, I agree.
But it wouldn't be good
if Night Wind was a hit.

Like it or not, you're the first to admit it.
You have an image.

They have newspapers to sell.
Imagine what they'll say
once they've written the nice things.

You know this town, sweetie.
You can smoke dope and end up
going steady with your Afghan...

...and you're one of the gang.
But you, you're Peter Pan.
Night Wind is a fact.
We have to show it wasn't your fault.

Anybody can fail, even Sally Miles.
- No! That was Felix's responsibility.
- I didn't mean...

But, sweetie, you walk out on him now
and your friggin' fans will hate your guts.

- The ones who criticized your marriage.
- Those snakes will be the first.

Not even a legal separation?
- Absolutely not.
- Shit, no!

Are you out of your mind?