Night and the City

Night and the city.

The night is tonight,

tomorrow night...

or any night.

The city is London.

Mary?

Mary?

You won't find

any money there, Harry.

What do you mean,

spying on me?

I, uh-- I was just

looking for a cigarette.

Mmm.

Would I steal

from you?

- What makes you think I--

- Who are you running away from now?

Running? Me?

Now, you know me better than that.

- Three days and three nights, and not a word from you.

- Well, I've been very busy.

For all I knew, you were lying in the gutter

somewhere with a knife in your back.

Lying in the gutter?

Now, look, sweetheart.

I'll tell you what happened.

- I was in Birmingham.

- Birmingham?

Yes! There's a fellow up there

starting a new greyhound track.

And he wants me

for a partner.

It's the chance of a lifetime.

I'll be in on the ground floor.

I only expected to be gone for a day,

but when I saw that layout I stayed over.

And when you see--

Look, honey. Look, here's the plan.

How much?

- "How much"?

- Look, Harry, we've been through this a thousand times.

How much?

Oh. Mmm.

Well, all right.

For our share,

it's only 300.

- 300, and it's a life of ease and plenty.

- No!

- You've got the money. You've got it right here.

- Sure. Sure, I've got it.

But not for

any greyhound track.

- Why, last month it was--

- But this is different, Mary. This can't lose!

Oh, Harry, why can't you

ever grow up?

Harry, you gotta

get hold of yourself.

You can't go on forever

always running, always in a sweat.

Do you think I enjoy working

night after night at the Silver Fox...

getting drunks drunker?

But I'm sticking it out,

waiting for the day we can marry...

lead decent,

normal lives.

Remember them, Harry?

Nice people.

Nice to know and be with.

Remember the plans

they used to make?

The kind of life

they were going to live?

I just want to

be somebody.

I've got to hurry,

Harry.

You'd better hurry too.

- Nosseross is angry with you.

- Let him wait.

Him and his

big, fat belly.

I'm not leaving here.

You mean you're afraid to leave.

How much?

I... paid him everything

but five pounds.

He's the one that put up the money

for the football pool.

Wait here.

Come in!

- Adam!

- Open the windows!

Don't tell me you tried

cooking spaghetti again.

Yes! With the usual

disastrous results!

Mary, get that siphon bottle there!

Quickly!

- The soda?

- Yes! Hurry! Hurry!

- Here!

- Ohh!

Don't just stand there, woman!

Squirt! Squirt!

There.

You're just in time to enjoy

the most heavenly spaghetti dinner.

Aw, thanks, but I've just had

breakfast, unfortunately.

I admit it does look

a little overdone.

Oh, well.

Try again next week.

Probably starve doing it,

but I'll master it in the end, I promise.

That's the thing that

keeps us apart, you know.

Your spaghetti?

Yes, in a way.

When I'm having my spaghetti,

you're looking for your morning toast.

Do you think we might ever arrange our day

to meet somewhere around teatime?

Come on, sit down.

- Let me get these hideous monsters out of the way.

- Oh, he's cute!

- She.

- Well, she's cute.

The shops tell me it's the best-selling

design I've given them so far.

- Discouraging.

- You're probably pleased as punch.

Of course. Sit down

and really be comfortable.

Thanks, Adam,

but I've got to get on to work.

- I've come to ask for a favor.

- Name it.

- Could you let me have three pounds until tomorrow?

- Help yourself.

Punch the night bell. The old lady of

Threadneedle St. Is well stocked and generous.

- It does look like the Bank of England.

- Well, it should.

I spent half my youth

reproducing it.

- It's very good.

- Of course.

Wonderful!

You're very clever,

Adam.

I am about

unimportant things.

Help yourself.

Thanks, Adam.

I happen to need this right now for-

- Well, I didn't expect them to deliver the--

- Sure.

Harry's back.

You knew that,

didn't you?

These walls. Just one big, happy family.

He gets so excited,

almost like a child.

But anyone has to fight

not to get pulled in by his excitement.

- His ideas always have so much imagination.

- I know.

- Harry's an artist without an art.

- What does that mean?

Well, that's something that'd

make a man very unhappy, Mary-

groping for the right lever,

the means with which to express himself.

Yes, he is that,

isn't he?

I like that, Adam.

It's a very nice thought.

Yes, but it

can be dangerous.

Oh. No, you don't.

Not again.

Every time you talk, you mix me up so

I can't think straight for a week.

- Thanks, Adam.

- Anything.

Anytime.

- Hi, hi, Harry!

- Evening, Maggie!

Can't win, boys!

Watch it!

Evening, boys.

- How's Fabian's stocks and shares, Harry?

- Never mind!

- When are you gonna open up your Paris office, Harry?

- Ehh!

- Lovely flowers!

- Evening, Molly, my girl!

Hello, Harry.

How are you?

Well, you're sober.

Trade must be slow.

Slow?

Disintegrating.

- You need a fresh carnation.

- Thanks, Molly. Put it on my account.

- That's all right, my dear. I'll trust you.

- There you are, Bert.

Bless you, Harry. Half a crown!

Don't mention it.

If you girls want to work for my husband,

you've got to start offi on the right foot.

You must understand the rules--

what he'll stand for and what he won't.

First, no stealing from the gentlemen

while you're in the club.

What you do outside

is none of his business...

but in here we take it from them legitimate

and no complaints later.

Remember, if a gentleman wants to dance,

or if he wants you to sit with him...

your time costs anything

from a quid up.

But don't harp on money.

Be subtle.

Whatever he gives you, take it first,

look disappointed afterwards.

If a man offers you a Turkish cigarette,

tell him you only smoke Virginian.

If he's smoking Virginian,

then you'll smoke Turkish.

Oh, yes, chocolates.

Fancy boxes we sell at two pounds.

- Isn't two quid a bit steep for a box of chocolates?

- They're hand-dipped, deary.

When the night's up, I buy 'em back from you

for a third of what the gentleman paid.

Evening, Phil.

Well, need any help with that stuff?

- Where have you been, dear boy?

- Well, l-I've, uh--

Been having a pleasant holiday

at Cannes?

Or spending the weekend

at Windsor Castle?

- I've been ill.

- Oh! Tsk-tsk-tsk. Poor boy's been ill.

I read all about it

in the Times.

"Mr. Fabian,

it is reported...

"is suffiering from

a highly inflamed imagination...

coupled by

delusions of grandeur."

- Well, where's he been?

- Now, now, Helen. Mustn't be unkind.

- The dear boy's been at death's door.

- Tsk-tsk-tsk.

I'm glad to see

you're fully recovered.

- We were worried about him, weren't we, Phil?

- Indeed we were.

It's getting late. Time for "dear boy"

to get dressed and hop it.

"Hop it."

Take care of yourself, dear boy.

Hey, Harry. Three live ones.

What's it worth to you?

- Depends on how much you know.

- Depends on how much you'll go.

From Chicago.

Men's clothing business.

One of them, the half-pint, kept talkin' about

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