Dark Passage Page #4

Dress it up a little bit,

it adds class to the joint.

Makes it a little homey.

-I thought you said you got lonely.

-That's right.

I pick people up and take them places,

but they don't talk to me.

I see them get out and go in spots,

have fun...

then I pick up another load coming out...

and I hear them telling

about all the fun they had.

But me, I sit up here all alone,

and it gets lonely.

That's tough. You're in a bad way.

You said it. Where are we going?

If I tell you,

you'll ask me why I'm going there...

and what am I going to do there,

and am I gonna have fun.

A guy gets lonely

driving a cab, remember?

That's right, brother. Lonely. And smart.

-Smart in what way?

-About people.

Looking at them. Faces.

What about faces?

It's funny. From faces I can tell

what people think, what they do...

sometimes even who they are.

You, for instance,

you're a guy with plenty of trouble.

-I don't have a trouble in the world.

-Don't tell me, buddy. I know.

She gave you plenty of trouble, that dame.

So you slugged her.

Not now, not here, too many cops around.

Don't try to hit me

in the back of the head...

or I'll run this crate up

into one of those hotel lobbies.

I'll give you $500.

Don't give me nothing.

Where do you want to go?

You might as well

make it the police station.

Don't be like that.

You're doing all right. You're doing fine.

If it was easy for you to spot me,

it would be easy for others.

That's where you're wrong.

Unless you'd be happier back in Quentin.

Sure, that's why they sent us up there,

to keep us happy.

I see what you mean.

Let's go up here and talk.

-Did you really bump your wife off?

-No, I didn't.

I don't figure it that way.

I figure you slugged her with that ashtray

because she made life miserable for you.

I know how it is.

I live with my sister and her husband.

Now, they get along fine.

So fine, that one day

he threw a bread knife at her.

She ducked.

That's the way it goes.

Maybe if your wife had ducked...

there'd be no trial, no Quentin,

no on the lam.

That's life.

-Smoke?

-All right.

Light?

-What was she like?

-She was all right.

Just hated my guts.

For a long time I tried to find out why,

then I didn't care anymore.

I know. Nice, happy, normal home.

I almost got roped in

a couple of times myself.

If you find the right girl, it's okay.

-What'll I do?

-You won't listen.

I'll listen. I want ideas.

That's what I want

more than anything else. ldeas.

I didn't kill her.

Why should I go back to San Quentin

for the rest of my life if I didn't kill her?

I wonder what he could do with your face?

-Who?

-A friend of mine. Knows his stuff.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes