Clash by Night Page #2

- I don't know.

You got some twine?

- I bet she goes out a lot.

- Out?

You know, nightclubs,

theaters, stuff like that.

- She does all right.

- Sure.

Why shouldn't she,

swell-looking girl like Mae?

Hey, why don't you ask her out?

- Me?

- Well, why not you?

I wouldn't be any fun for a swell-l2ooking girl

like Mae. She's used to nightclubs.

- Nightclubs?

- Yeah.

She ain't been out of the house

in two weeks.

Look out.

Watch out. Why, you dirty brat.

What do you want, the whole sidewalk?

Get off the street,

you little hoodlums.

I lost two bottles.

Rotten kids.

I hope they all get run over.

Dirty little rats.

What are you sitting

with your hat on for?

Crazy old gent sitting

in the house with a hat on.

Not important, hat.

It's what under the hat

that makes you worry.

What you got to worry about?

Son supports you, don't he?

Didn't move any of them checkers

while I was out getting the beer, did you?

Last night, under the bridge...

...they found a little baby,

4 days, 5 days old.

Nobody wants kids.

They clutter up the house.

I told you to close the icebox.

You'll burn the bulb out.

- Where'd all the beer come from?

- Schneider's.

I thought I told you

to stop charging stuff.

- Well, you're rich. You'll never miss it.

- I ain't rich.

A little baby, 4 days, 5 days old.

What's the matter with Papa?

They found a dead baby

under the bridge. He's worried.

People believe in nothing, nothing.

I know, Papa.

It's a sad story.

- My nephew's going out?

- To a movie.

- With who, may I ask?

- Mae Doyle, that's who.

Women.

I never married. You know why?

We spoil women in this country.

Too much education,

too much free speech.

Suppose I gotta sit in with the old gent

while you're out spending money?

It's my money, ain't it, Uncle Vince?

Right, throw it in my face.

I live off you.

I didn't mean that, Uncle Vince.

Just say the word.

I'll sleep in the gutter.

Nobody said anything about your sleeping

in the gutter. All I said was...

Was close the icebox door!

Your move, old-timer.

And I told you a hundred times,

clean up your room. It's filthy.

And take down them dirty pictures

you got hanging up.

- Pictures?

- Them women with no clothes.

Is your son, by any chance,

referring to my art collection?

Art. You better take them down,

that's all.

- Night, Papa.

- Good night.

And you too.

Fine brother-in-law, ignorant man

don't know English, can't read or write.

It's my fault, letting my sister

marry beneath her.

At least she's better off

where she is now.

Come in, the door is open.

- Mae?

- Be ready in a minute.

I bet Joe's glad you're home.

The place looks swell.

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