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

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