The Lavender Hill Mob Page #2

an artistic gentleman, but really!

- Take all this.

- Oh! Thank you.

I thought I'd made myself quite plain

when I phoned, miss Evesham.

I'd... I'd no idea it would mean...

But there's no place

to put it all!

- What about the stable?

- I suppose it could go there.

Mind your toes, miss Evesham.

Back shortly, Mrs. Chalk.

Oh, this is capital.

Capital!

A ready-made studio!

A thing I wanted all my life.

Why, it's even

got a north light, too.

Mr. Pendlebury, just one moment.

The terms of my lease...

Oh, I say! Steady, steady, steady.

So sorry.

Oh, it's all right. I had to g...

had to cast her in gilding metal.

It's a little delicate, you know?

Mr. Pendlebury...

I did it in my factory.

You must see it one of these days.

Mr. Pendlebury!

Ooh, these walls!

Oh, an admirable background

for my canvases.

Mr. Pendlebury!

Let me inform you here and now...

That no business occupation

may be performed on these premises.

Oh-ho, my dear lady. This is not

my business occupation. I wish it were.

No, these are my wings.

My escape after the cares

of the day are over.

My business occupation

is something unspeakably hideous.

I'm in the "Presents from" trade.

You know, "Presents from Brighton,"

"Souvenir of Tunbridge Wells."

Yes, if tourists only realized,

they could save themselves

a lot of luggage space...

By applying to us direct

for their holiday memories.

And the irony of it,

Holland, the irony is...

I must design them

all myself.

I propagate

british cultural depravity.

Look at this.

Anne hathaway's cottage...

for keeping string in.

Wouldn't you infinitely prefer

the comparative purity of an old biscuit tin?

Southend pier!

Oh, I... I've thought for years

to cut loose from it all,

But I never had the courage.

"Of all sad words

of tongue or pen,

"the saddest are these:

'It might have been'".

Forgive me.

Come and see the casting room.

We're busy at present on one

of our export lines. Paperweights.

We ship a thousand a week

over to France.

Here's a little... speciality.

Quite a simple process, really.

Pour the molten lead into the mold,

allow it to harden.

As soon as it's cool,

it's sprayed with gold paint...

And then it's ready

to be shipped to France.

"Slave, I have set my life

upon a cast."

Richard III.

I believe it's turning

into a self-portrait.

I shall call him

"the slave."

Oh, my dear Holland, I'm so sorry.

You're still feeling bad.

The heat of that place. I always forget.

No, it wasn't the heat.

I'm used to that in my job.

Oh, really?

Your place is very similar to a refinery.

Really? I had no idea.

We turn gold into bars,

you turn lead into Eiffel Towers.

That's the only difference. Only!

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