Deborah Kerr(hereafter referred to as Ms. K), a beautiful and elegant singer,

met Gary Grant(hereafter referred to as Mr. G), a painter and dandy boy, in a

sea voyage, and they fell in love even though Ms. K had already been engaged to a socially recognized successful man, while Mr.G also had a fiancee who was a heiress of great fortune. The romance on the sea halted when the boat finally arrived in New York, where standing on the dock were another two lovers greeting their sweethearts. So, they made an appointment to meet at the top level of the Empire State Building, the

the tallest skyscraper in the world, six months later, and they had to manage somehow to have their engagement

bonding lifted before the date.

Six months elapsed, both of them made the rendezvous with each other they had long been

pining for. Mr. G waited anxiously at the top of the building for Ms. K to come. In the meantime,  the latter was rushing to cross a bustling street (23rd Street, I guess), and a car accidentally hit her. She was severely injured and disabled. Mr. G, utterly unaware of what had happened below, kept asking the elevator boy what time it was and roamed in the observatory until midnight. Bereft, he took the offer of "Going down?" finally.  

The dramatic but tragic event changed both of their lives. Downheartedly, Mr. G lost his glamour in social activities, which had boosted his success in selling his paintings. He even had to do billboard ads to scratch a living. In the meantime, Ms. K, unable to stand up anymore, discontinued her singing career and devoted herself to charity, though not financially. She taught music in some orphanages, and the childrens laughter helped lessen her depression in return. On Christmas Eve, when Mr. G was going to leave for another city to seek better opportunities, something in his mind hinted to him that he should bid Ms. K, the old friend, Ms. K adieu. Then he looked her name up in a telephone directory with listed addresses. Luckily, he found the name.

With a blanket covering her disabled legs, Ms. K was leaning snugly

against a couch in her apartment, preparing herself to read a book and spend Christmas Eve before she found Mr. G, still handsome and gallant, standing before her. Subsequent scenes were gradually reaching the climax: they exchanged several witty remarks and deadpan humor until Mr.G thought of someone who told him that the other day, a limp lady who could not afford a piece of painting solicited the gallery to give her one of his works—-The girl with a white shawl prays in a cathedral.  The light dawned on Mr. G. He found the painting in her bedroom. Then he saw the tearful Ms. K, the model of the

painting, was looking languishingly at him. What a sentimental ending 

with such a bouquet worth savoring!

I have watched the movie too many times to forget its storyline, nor an admirable supporting character—the ex-fiance of Ms. K. The gentleman

loved Ms. K so dearly that even when she mumbled the name of Mr. G, not his, in the bed of a hospital emergency room, he stood beside her, firmly holding her hands. One day, he stood up and was going to

pick up her wheelchair after a Broadway show was over when

they came across Mr. G passing by. The star-crossed lovers exchanged a simple "Hello": a word full of mixed emotions. In an impulse, that gentleman even wanted to tell Mr. G the truth, but Ms. K

stopped him. The gentleman would have known better that whatever he had done, he would never win her heart again, yet he continued to do it without any regret. Foolish love? No, I would call it an unselfish and unrequited love, one of the ultimate human affections.