We see the the facade, French in architecture, then the high-
the Palais de Justice.
people stream out.
What on earth's going on there?
I don't know, my dear.
Pardon, pardon, Monsieur, pardon
Madame, have you not heard?
We hear very little, and we understand
murdered in the desert... the
unoccupied desert. This is the
customary roundup of refugees,
liberals, and uh, of course, a
beautiful young girl for Monsieur
Renault, the Prefect of Police.
Suspects are herded out of the van, and into the Palais
Unfortunately, along with these
unhappy refugees the scum of Europe
has gravitated to Casablanca. Some
I beg of you, Monsieur, watch yourself.
Be on guard. This place is full of
vultures, vultures everywhere,
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