Summary
A honeymooning metropolitan dandy, drunk on the marble-and-brass mirage of grand-hotel modernity, drags his guileless bride into a gilt cage where every corridor echoes with flirtation; once her unmannered charm magnetizes bellboys, bankers, and ballroom ghosts alike, the couple flee westward to a sun-scorched bungalow whose stucco walls promise pastoral calm. Domesticity mutates into bedroom farce when she orchestrates a clandestine soirée: musicians scurry under chaises like startled mice, a tipsy caterer hugs drapery, and a florist’s bouquet becomes both alibi and smoking gun. The husband’s premature return detonates a daisy-chain of pratfall paranoia—every stranger is recast as paramour, each misplaced billet-doux a smoking gun of imagined adultery. Yet beneath the slapstick tremor lies a brittle meditation on proprietorial anxiety, the way marriage can curdle into ownership, and how laughter, spilling out like cheap champagne, finally rinses the stains of suspicion.
Synopsis
Newlywed hubby insists upon hotel life, so to a hotel they go, and after his wife becomes the belle of the establishment, they migrate to a California bungalow. Then, when wifey is planning a surprise party for him, the husband comes home unexpectedly. The musician, caterer, and florist are made to hide behind curtains and beneath sofas. They are discovered, of course, and accused of being the wife's lovers. There are further complications when a messenger boy brings an amorous letter to the wife by mistake. The atmosphere clears eventually.
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