Original subtitles

Shall I stand a little closer, marshal?

Maverick.

Starring James Garner and Jack Kelly.

Produced by Warner Bros.

From the entertainment capital of the world...

produced for television by Warner Bros.

This is Boot Hill, Elwood, Kansas.

It's a nice place to visit.

I like to come up here sometimes to think...

and maybe get ahead a grave or two.

Elwood's a peaceful town.

That's the way the merchants like it and that's the way I keep it.

I'm a merchant myself.

I own 3 7.5 percent of the Weeping Willow saloon.

Sometimes a visiting cowboy gets a little drunk...

but that's what the town's here for.

Thieves and criminals, though, they stay away.

They know what they can expect of Mort Dooley.

That's my name, Mort Dooley. I'm the marshal.

Only real threat to law and order around here lately...

was a certain roving gambler I had to keep throwing out of my town.

Some folks say he came here from Wormwood, Kansas.

I don't know where he came from myself, but it all started about a week ago.

The name he was using at the time was Maverick.

For example, in 1870...

there were 2,666,000 farms...

averaging 110 acres.

Some larger, of course, and some smaller.

And while there were only 24 million cattle in the whole country...

there were 25 million hogs.

How do you know how many hogs there is?

- Knowledge is my stock and trade. - Coo.

I'm a commercial traveler for Martinson's Abridged Encyclopedia.

Badger's the name. Kenneth P. Badger.

In fact, if you have a few moments to spare...

No books.

Too much education has been the death of me already.

My sainted mother, when I was a lad, she used to say to my father:

"Your grace," she said, him being a duke.

"Nothing but the cream for little Freddie," meaning me.

And so it was, tutors and governesses, public schools and Oxford, and for what?

Gentle birth and schooling don't mean nothing in this wicked world no more.

I wish we had time to hear the whole story.

- Sheriff in here anywhere? - Not hardly.

Anybody in here that can read?

You might try the bartender when he wakes up.

I, uh, got this here letter.

- Where did you dig this up? - Didn't. Plowed it up.

There was this here man's coat, had three bullets holes in it...

massive bones and the letter in the pocket.

"June the 12th, 1863.

Dear sir, the market here is finished...

and the creditors are moving in from all sides.

All is lost except the stuff, which I haven't had time to transfer.

Deep in debt, but if you can foot 15 from the southern dues...

I will try to pump the rest out of Jethro."

That's very interesting almost. - That's all.

It's signed, "Yours in haste, Andrew Mcllhenny."

- Who's it to? - Oh, I'm sorry, uh...

Mr. George B. Crispin, Vicksburg, Mississippi.

I can't go traipsing around looking for the law and get my milking done too.

Well, I'll be seeing the sheriff. I'll give it to him.

Well, if it won't be no trouble.

When you see the sheriff, tell him I got the coat and the bones...

over at my place, Ames farm.

If you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I have a train to catch.

I better be finding the sheriff.

Why, there aren't any trains out of here tonight.

Mcllhenny.

Mcllhenny. Now, that name means something to me.

If it means something to you, it must be in that book of yours with all them hogs.

Now, wait a minute. Let me see here.

"Abner Mcllhenny.

American economist, formulated Mcllhenny's law of diminishing returns.

Alexander Mcllhenny, poet laureate of New Jersey."

Here's an Andrew J. Mcllhenny.

"Mississippi legislator and captain in the Confederate Army.

Led rebel underground activities in Kansas during the War of the Southern Rebellion.

Narrowly avoided capture at Elwood, Kansas...

in June 1863.

Believed to have escaped to Europe with $500,000 in gold...

entrusted to him by the Confederate government.

Andrew W. Mcllhenny, 1822 to 1842.

Composer of 'Birdsong at Eventide."'

This is the Weeping Willow saloon...

the finest store of its kind in Elwood, Kansas.

My very good friend Amy runs the store. Owns 25 percent of it.

I own 3 7.5.

A cowboy wants recreation and that's what he finds at our card tables.

That and protection.

Professional gamblers and card sharps stay away from Elwood, Kansas.

They know we don't want them in our town.

We have a crackerjack police force in Elwood...

this gentleman being my deputy, Clyde Diefendorfer.

Owns 1 7.5 percent of the Weeping Willow.

I own 3 7.5.

Doc Stucke, finest undertaker west of Dodge City.

Also a partner of mine.

Owns 1 7.5 percent of the store.

You can learn a lot from old Doc.

Hated to do that, but it kind of opens up the board.

Your move.

Mr. Dooley.

Mr. Dooley, there's a professional gambling man over at the Weeping Willow saloon.

How do you know he's a professional gambler, Clyde?

He's wearing a clean white shirt and a black necktie.

And he's winning, Mr. Dooley.

There's a whole pack of Jethros around here, now that I think of it.

The whole south half of this town was built on the old Jethro farm.

Where would I find the nearest Jethros now?

Brother, that we won't know this side of Judgment Day.

They were all wiped out in the John Brown raid of 1858.

When John Brown and his boys come through here, the first...

Mort, be careful.

There's a stagecoach out of here in 20 minutes. Be on it.

- And why would I want to do that? - This is a clean town, mister.

We endeavor to keep it that way.

The gambling facilities here are for visiting trail hands...

not for professional card players.

Well, suppose I just stop playing cards while I'm here...

because I plan to be here for several days.

I don't think you hear good, mister. I'm running you out of town.

- What for? - You're disturbing the peace.

How?

Flaunting authority and goading me into a gunfight.

Now, you get aboard that thing...

and you stay out of Elwood, Kansas from here on.

Stand back. Let the decent gentlemen off first.

- Hey, marshal, I know that man. - Yeah.

He's a professional card player, and he cheats.

Mister, I know a respectable businessman when I see one.

And as I knelt there beside that wounded little drummer boy...

I could hear the bright wings of death flapping over the scene, I could.

He knew he was done for too.

One of the countless lads, blue and gray...

as was lost on the bloody battlefield that day.

He looked up at me...

his gallant little face twisted with pain...

and he gave me a brave little smile, he did.

"Sir," he said, me being a very high-ranking officer.

"Sir, all the kit and kin I has in this mournful world...

is them distance cousins back in Kansas."

- I knowed he was a Kansas boy. - Tsk.

"Bless you, young Jethro," I says to him.

"I'll go to Kansas myself...

and I'll tell them Jethros you went like a brave lad and a soldier."

And with that, he expired in my arms, he did.

Poor little thing...

not knowing all his kinfolks had expired ahead of him.

- All of them? CLYDE: Gone to glory...

when old John Brown and his boys came through here in 1858.

I was just passing by and I saw your lights.

Oh. Couldn't quite remember who you was first off.

You're the bloke I've seen in the public house over in the next town.

That's right. Bret Maverick.

Well, what have we been up to since last we met?

Well, now, that's what I was gonna ask you.

I heard your performance over at the saloon.

Even through the back door, it sounded magnificent.

Just carrying out a solemn pledge I made to a little midget mite who served under me.

- A drummer boy. - Right you are. There are so many of them.

All named Jethro?

You're a keen one, you are.

I might as well explain the whole blooming thing to you.

Let me save you a step.

Before you let me find out that you're the rightful King of France...

let me tell you, I know you, Hawkins.

I saw you in San Francisco two years ago, you and the Denver Kid.

- You were working the smack. - Why, so we were.

Well, what are you working now?

Looking for the end of the rainbow, same as you.

It is a lot of money, you know.

There's been a lot of people looking for it too.

Oh, we're not like them, Jack-o.

We practically got a map, we have.

All we have to do is pump it out of Jethro.

You found out for yourself there aren't any Jethros anymore.

And there weren't any when this letter was written.

Hello? WOMAN: Colonel Hawkins?

May I come in?

Oh, you're both here. This is my lucky day.

Pleasure is all mine.

Perhaps you'll tell us to what we're indebted.

Well, my name is Emily Cameron, colonel.

And I'm the reporter on the local newspaper, The Elwood Clarion.

Reporter?

I heard that you two were in town asking about our local customs and traditions.

We haven't been asking no questions.

You mustn't try to keep secrets from the press, colonel.

You've been asking about Jethro's farm and Captain Mcllhenny.

- Who? - Oh, heh, Jethro.

You have us confused...

Better make a clean breast of it, boy. Take the press into our confidence.

- Miss, uh...? - Cameron.

We tell you this only so as you'll see that nothing can't be printed...

without creaming the whole blooming works.

You think I'm Colonel Albert Augustus Hawkins. I'm not.

In actuality, my name is Sebastian Jethro.

- It is? - The last of the noble house.

My solicitor has informed me that my family estates still own the land...

where now stands Trinity Church in New York City.

Oh.

Astounded by this amazing discovery as you might pretty well imagine...

I'm searching the face of the earth in a conscientious effort to make sure...

that I am in truth the last remaining relic of that noble line.

This is my legal counsel, Mr. Archibald Pomeroy.

- Your servant. - Mr. Pomeroy.

But I still don't understand why I can't print the story.

Bless you, ducky, if this story was to get out...

before I was ready to take my rightful claim into the courts...

we'd have the sharks about us.

It ain't everyone's as honest as the likes of you and I.

I shall respect your wishes.

I do wish you the best of luck, Colonel Haw... Colonel Jethro.

- Heh. - Mr. Pomeroy.

You weren't asking around about Mcllhenny?

No. Was you?

- She knows. - Maybe.

- Anyway, she's not a reporter. - That's dishonest.

Telling us a pack of lies like that. Who could she be?

While I'm trying to find out, archbishop, you watch your step.

Come now, Maverick, you can trust old Freddie all the blooming way.

Well, I don't have to trust you, Freddie.

If you double-cross me just the teeniest little bit...

I'll publish Mcllhenny's letter in that paper.

I'll have everybody in Elwood, Kansas looking for that gold.

Of course, you would, bless your heart.

I'd do the same myself.

You.

Now, it's my policy to allow a dog or darn fool one mistake.

Whichever category you are, Maverick, you've had yours.

Thank you, marshal.

When I put you on the stage this time, I want you to stay on.

If you come creeping back into Elwood, Kansas...

it's gonna be you and me, boy.

Marshal, can't we just talk this whole thing over?

Already have.

Like I told you before, stand back and let them off first.

- Now, marshal... - A pleasant journey, and a long one.

Hyah.

Hi, Mort.

Hi, Doc.

- You hear about the rustling? - Yup.

Hundred head of cattle.

I heard they took them south, probably headed for the Mexican border.

Yup, that makes sense.

I hate to butt into the marshal's story like this...

but somebody has to tell you.

The conversation you have just heard has nothing to do with the story.

And there will be no further reference to rustling.

Marshal. Marshal. You better get to get up to Hagland's farm.

- Why is that, Lem? - There's Indians up there.

It's about, uh, 18 miles north of town, isn't it?

That's right, marshal.

Well, there's always Indians up around there.

But these ones are skulking around, marshal, and muttering.

- What are you going to do, Mort? - I'll know when I get there.

Mort, be careful.

One thing about being a peace officer...

it keeps you on the move.

You never know where you're gonna be sent next, or by who.

I couldn't find anything either.

You're not gonna leave before you get your story.

- Well, I... - Wanna tell me what you're looking for?

Perhaps we're looking for the same thing.

Well, I have no idea what that could be.

Well, suppose I, uh, give you the key word first.

Three guesses.

Copperheads, Mcllhenny, gold.

- You're very cleaver, Mr. Pomeroy. - Maverick.

- Are you ready to talk now? - Can we go somewhere?

We're getting there already.

- Is someone following us? - Oh, not a chance.

I do hope you're going to be all right.

She's about so tall, light brown hair, and very attractive.

- Well, at least she sounds interesting. - But not familiar?

Friend, I never been able to recognize any female with just a description.

The one you're talking about, well, she could be most anybody.

- It's a pretty big town, mister. - Yeah.

Uh, mister, I hope you find her.

- Before Marshal Dooley finds you. - Thank you.

As publishers of books, we popped right over...

as soon as we heard you were an expert on the history of Kansas.

Well, I'll do what I can.

You tell me about this Kansas business and I'll blinking well listen.

Ain't nobody ever wrote the history of Kansas before...

and Kansas is near historical as a place can get.

What's historical about Kansas, eh?

Well, everything is.

Uh, you heard about Bleeding Kansas, ain't you?

Who hasn't?

Well, folks around here was fighting a civil war 10 years before it ever started.

There's many a cove writing books...

when he don't know who's which from when's what.

Now, if you were closer to where some of this history happened...

You can't get no close than Elwood, Kansas.

Why, this is where all the Copperheads was...

and Captain Mcllhenny and all of them people.

Be a good lad and tell us all about it.

Well, now, heh...

the whole south end of town used to be the old Jethro farm.

- How. - Can't complain, marshal. How you?

Have you saw any hostiles around here?

Not lately.

- Red man talks straight? - You know it, marshal.

Got some nice blankets, marshal.

Long knife already got blanket.

Anything else I can do for you, marshal?

Yeah, how do I get to Hagland's farm?

You went right past it, marshal.

Now right here, where Foals Lane and the feed store is now...

now, that's where the old Jethro farmhouse was.

Now, there was the barn.

Now, if you take Mazenga's Livery Stable and the Eli Café...

both of them is where the barn was.

The old smokehouse would take up the whole street...

between Mr. Preacher McCoy's house and the funeral parlor.

Doc Stucke, he's the local undertaker here. Fine fellow.

Him and me are both 17.5-percent owners of the Weeping Willow saloon.

And Mr. Dooley, he owns 37.5 percent.

And Miss Amy, you saw her, handsome blond lady.

What's the smokehouse?

That's where the country folk cure their hams and things for the winter.

- You see, you take your ham... - It's just a bare structure.

- Log usually, with a dirt floor. - A what floor?

A plain old dirt floor. That's because there's

usually a fire going on in the middle of it.

- And when you get a fire... - Mr. Badger, my boy...

I don't think we need question this gentleman no further.

Whatever happens, throw, bowl or pitch...

he's the man to write the history of Kansas for us.

You'll be hearing from us in a matter of weeks.

That's it for me, laddy. I can't dig no more.

We shouldn't stop now. I'm fine.

You look like a piece of chewed string.

Let's hop it before the whole blooming town's awake.

Just about got enough strength to fall into bed.

First things first, my boy.

We have to sneak these things back into the shop we got them from.

Honesty in all things, says I.

It was late morning, maybe a quarter to 8, when I got back to the city.

And I suddenly noticed things weren't right.

Everything was too quiet.

The street was like that when we got up this morning, Marshal Dooley.

Someone dug it up in the night.

Kids in this town are getting meaner every day.

It's you parents' fault for not taking a stick to them.

Clyde, you're in charge. Think I'll get some shut-eye.

Oh, then there's Mrs. Adams' daughter, Virginia.

A lovely girl.

Except her mouth is just a little wide.

- I can't stand a wide mouth. - Well, that's the one.

Well, Mrs. Adams is the schoolteacher here. Wonderful lady.

They live in the yellow house out that way.

Well, thank you, ma'am.

If she's the right one, I can't tell you how much you've done for me.

Oh, heavens, I know how you young people are.

Thanks, again.

- Well, you're not gonna shoot me. - That's what I usually do.

I haven't done it to you because you're kind of pitiful.

I'm gonna give you one more chance and then I'm gonna shoot you.

Oh, marshal, I'm awful sorry about getting you out of bed this way.

Don't be. You didn't.

Last we'll be seeing of him, Doc. It's quite a ways to the next town.

I made him promise he wouldn't get off there.

Tsk, I hope so, Mort.

Of course he could get off at the edge of Elwood...

when the train stops to take on water.

He wouldn't dare. He's not that stupid.

Yeah, you've been mighty patient with that boy, Mort.

How many men you shot this month for aggravating you a lot less than he has?

- Eleven. - Tsk.

We're sure getting some strange breeds in Elwood lately.

Yep.

Remember that gunman came through last week?

Passing out business cards?

Tsk.

That closed my books on Mr. Bret Maverick, I figured.

And things in Elwood went back to their normal course.

Telegram, huh?

Oh, go on, open it. It don't have to mean a death in the family.

Mr. Dooley, where are you going?

To Kansas City, MO, to pick up Hognose Hughes.

Mort?

Be careful.

Well, if it ain't our friend, in again, out again.

How's your poor old feet, matey?

Close the door, Badger. There's a good boy. Bit of a draft otherwise. Take a seat.

Dropped in just when it was getting good, you did. Now, then.

We talked about each other's health and the blooming weather.

Let's look lively now and you tell us what's your little game.

But I've told you, Mr. Jethro, we don't have any little game.

Not half, you don't, snooping about...

giving out fictional names, telling a lot of whoppers.

And for what? I put it you.

For a half million dollars in gold.

Now we know it's everybody's looking for the pot of gold. Right?

This time last week, nobody knew the gold was there.

Least ways we didn't. Next question is...

how did these two vultures happen to be in on it?

Sir, I find your manner of speech inexcusable.

Of course, you do. Let's hear some of yours.

Mrs. Adams, uh, you're from Mississippi, aren't you?

Down around the bayou country? It's a funny thing about accents.

Your mother speaks pure bayou and you don't.

You probably came to Kansas as a child.

Uh, don't say anything at all, dear.

I'll bet everybody back home thinks you're in Europe.

And why should they?

They probably think you went to join your husband.

Here, now, what's all this ruddy noise? Whose husband?

Mrs. Mcllhenny's husband.

What makes her all of a sudden Mrs. Mcllhenny?

Well, Captain Mcllhenny left a wife and small daughter in Biloxi, Mississippi.

Now, except for the three of us, they would be the only two people in the world...

who'd have any interest at all in Captain Mcllhenny...

or anything connected with him.

Mr. Maverick is quite right.

- Mother? - It's all right.

Doesn't seem to be much we can hide from these gentlemen.

Well, I hate to pry into anything painful...

but can you tell us what you're doing in Kansas?

It's where my father fought and died.

We came here hoping to find some proof...

that Andrew Mcllhenny did not betray his trust.

We gave up years ago.

And then suddenly you gentlemen came along.

Why? What brought you here?

We were just playing a hunch.

If you'll excuse me, I feel quite tired.

- Will you please go? - Yes, ma'am.

Excuse me.

Cheerio.

I'm gonna give them back the letter, Freddie. They need it and we don't.

Darn right noble you are, Maverick.

Freddie?

Give it back.

Afraid you'll just have to tell them about it, Maverick.

What do you mean? You did steal it out of my pocket?

- That's a blunt way of putting it. - Come on, let's have it.

Haven't got it no more, my lad.

Afraid it would get into wrong hands, I was...

and like a proper mug, I burned the blooming thing.

"The market is finished and the creditors are moving in all sides."

"Market finished" don't mean a blooming...

because there never was no market here in the first place.

"Creditors moving in" would mean the Yankees, of course.

Then he said, "All is lost except the stuff...

which I haven't had time to transfer," and that's certainly clear enough.

"Deep in debt, but if you can foot 15 from the southern dues...

I will try to pump the rest out of Jethro."

"Foot 15 from the southern dues."

Fifteen feet due south.

Fifteen feet due south of what?

"I will try to pump the rest out of Jethro."

Hey, you, about time the house bought one, ain't it?

Get away from me. I got orders. The house don't ever buy you one.

If Marshal Dooley was here, he'd buy me one.

Well, Marshal Dooley ain't here, and if he was he'd throw you out himself.

That's the way with all of you people.

Make a lot of money on a customer when he's got it...

and nothing but loud talk and abuse when he's a little low.

Friend, if you'll just stop hollering, I'll be glad to buy you a drink.

Whiskey for the gentleman.

- Now that's what I call... - Have another.

Mister, I can tell you I needed that.

- Them. - Don't mention it.

I was as dry as Jethro's pump.

- As what? - Jethro's pump.

- You believe in Santa Claus? - Heh, why, I sure do.

Well, you just, uh, sneak out this front door about a minute after I do.

I think I just heard sleigh bells.

Think, think.

Mister, it's just a saying around here.

Uh, some of the old folks like to say, "As poor as Job's turkey."

Folks here say, "It's as dry as Jethro's pump."

- Well, I never heard it anywhere else. - Don't reckon I ever did either.

There must be a Jethro's pump around here.

Or there must have been at one time.

Well, you'll have to ask somebody that knows more about it than I do.

Thanks.

Great day in the morning. You ain't supposed to be here.

Mr. Dooley said he'd kill you if you came back into town.

No, he just said I wasn't to let him see me in town again.

Come to think of it...

that is what he said, heh.

- Coffee? - Well, thank you, deputy.

I'll just...

- Uh, new shoes? - No.

Blamed horse stepped on my foot this afternoon.

Well, it's nice. Kind of gives you character.

Well, thank you.

Oh, I've been puzzling, Mr. Maverick.

How come you come back into town every time Mr. Dooley throws you out?

Well, I have to, deputy. It's very important.

And you're the only one I can turn to for help.

Well, I'll do what I can.

Well, the Clyde Diefendorfer I'm looking for is a historian.

Heh, well, that's me.

- Who's the governor of Kansas? - John P. St. John.

- And what's the salary? - Three thousand dollars a year.

- What was Jethro's pump and where? - Oh, that's a good one.

Jethro's pump was right here in town.

Spring went dry, but the pump was still standing when I first came to Elwood.

Standing where?

You know the hitching rail over yonder in front of the Temperance Hall?

The north post of the hitching rail. That's where the Jethros put their pump.

Good afternoon, Marshal Dooley.

Maverick!

Amy?

Mort, be careful.

All right, if you won't draw, I will.

Shall I stand a little closer, marshal?

Go ahead, use your gun, Maverick.

Heck, marshal, what's the point of that?

I'm just as far out of range as you are.

Everything's gonna be all right, Mort. You're as good as you ever were.

Like the fellow said himself, Mort, he was out of range.

If he'd have been just 20 feet closer, you'd have got him.

You'd have got him six times, Mr. Dooley.

Eight, nine, 10, 11, 12...

13, 14, 15.

Now, then, that sounds a bit of all right.

- It's it. I'm sure it's it. - Had to happen sometime.

I was beginning to think though he was on the everlasting staircase.

- And where did you come from? - Faith brought us, Maverick.

I and Mr. Badger here has had faith in you all the blooming way.

- I'm gonna break down and cry. - Great faith, Mr. Maverick.

I not only arranged for horses for all three of us...

but I managed to acquire a good sturdy prairie wagon.

- Heh. - What's that for?

Why, we need it. Whether our gold's in coins or bullion...

a half million dollars should weigh about 2600 pounds.

Well, at least it's easy to watch that weight.

What's it look like, laddy?

It's some sort of a trunk.

Break this lock.

Open it up and run your hands through it, laddy boy.

Let's hear the pretty jingle it makes.

- It doesn't jingle. - Doesn't jingle?

What sort of a due is that?

Gentlemen, let me read you the saddest words of tongue or pen.

"Gold certificates," it says.

"Six months after the conclusion of the war...

that Confederate States of America will pay to the bearer..."

- What's this? - Confederate money.

Why did everybody think it was real gold? Why?

Well, who was gonna explain it wasn't? General Crispin?

He was killed before Mcllhenny in the Siege of Vicksburg.

Well, it was a rare old law while we was as it.

And what would we have done with a wagonful of money?

All my life, a decent, respectable, churchgoing, honest man.

I did my work, I paid my taxes.

And never once did I stray from the path of rectitude.

Coo.

Then I fell among thieves. Yes, I did. Thieves.

Break my heart, for sure, you do.

When you're finished that, friend Maverick will pass the tambourine.

I hope I never see either of you ever again.

You better keep that wagon. You got a heavy load of righteousness to carry.

Leave the horses. There's a dear boy.

As the pledge of a nation that's dead and gone...

keep it, dear friend, and show it.

You keep it, friend. It can't buy happiness.

Thank you, neighbor. I can certainly use it.

- How's that? - A contribution to a worthy cause.

Huh?

I can't believe it.

It's all there. The whole half million. Even if it is worthless.

It's not worthless to us, Mr. Maverick.

It's all we needed.

Well, I'm glad.

Awkward time to come calling, 3:00 in the morning.

But I fancied, uh, you might like this.

My husband's handwriting.

The letter he wrote to tell the Confederates where the brass was hid.

Don't know what you can do with it, of course, but, uh, well...

Mr. Hawkins?

Here, now, yeah.

Cheerio.

Mr. Dooley, you just gotta eat sometime.

You just gotta.

Don't go for your gun, marshal. Don't shoot me, Mr. Dooley.

Don't, Mr. Dooley. Just don't shoot me.

Look, I'll get out of your town. So don't shoot me, marshal.

I'm gonna leave your town. I won't ever come back, I promise.

I'm gonna get on my horse. I swear I won't ever come back, I promise.

Mr. Dooley, look at that scoundrel go.

Well, that's the story.

That tinhorn in the end turned out to be just as yellow as the rest of them.

What kept you so blinking long?

Oh, I had to do my little bit for law and order in the west.

I thought he never would come out of that office.

You'll never get nowhere in this cold, cruel world.

Too sentimental, you are.