We rejoin our intrepid duo, Art and Myrt, about to be escorted to their quarters.
Looks like Artie’s going to carry all the bags. Always the gentleman!
As they head upstairs, Miss May makes chitchat. “Funny … Ambrose never mentioned you, Doctor.”
“Yes, well, I hardly ever mention Ambrose,” Steele quips.
As Laura gazes heavenward, perhaps hoping for divine deliverance from Mr. Steele’s incessant schtick, Miss May expresses the hope that the so-far-unseen Ambrose isn’t sick.
Laura explains that Dr. Bellows isn’t that kind of doctor.
“I specialize in … remodeling,” Steele fills in. Miss May seems satisfied with that explanation.
She thinks he’s adorable!
As Miss May leads them down an ornately decorated corridor, we notice that one of these things is not like the others.
.Myrt is still moody! Her inamoratum finally notices and sobers up.
There, now. Isn’t that better? Everybody’s having fun!
Miss May drops them off at their room and departs.
Ah, Laura finally has Steele alone. Can we expect a romantic interlude?
Laura wants a point of clarification: “Myrtle Groggins?”
“Laura, we’re on the thin edge with this masquerade, you know? I’m simply trying to inject a little reality into the proceedings. I mean, Tracy would have sounded as manufactured as Cindi and Randi. Whereas Myrtle has such a – dull, plodding, HONEST ring to it.”
That’s right. Just keep dancing, Mr. Steele.
I think that explanation worked well, don’t you?
They enter the room. Laura seems … delighted?
“It’s disgusting,” Laura pronounces. “Like some cheap, gaudy, adult motel.” She closes the door.
“I take it you’re not comfortable with the ambiance,” Steele answers.
“It’s a total turn off.” I suppose … if you find Pepto Pink repellent.
Steele is disappointed. He was so hoping …
Laura’s hair has that Breck bounce, doesn’t it?
Mr. Steele decides his inamorata isn’t in the mood for love. “Best not to discuss these matters on an empty stomach,” he declares. “It will wait until after dinner.”
Laura stomps off to the bathroom. Does she have to attend to a matter of feminine hygiene? No wonder she’s cranky.
Steele takes the opportunity to check out the digs more closely. I’m afraid it may be a lonely view in that ceiling mirror tonight, Mr. Steele.