All language subtitles for O Henrys Full House (1952) DvdRip XviD AEN Cd1.Eng

Hey, Charlie. Your lawyer's here
with the bail money.

Tell him I ain't in.

You're what?

You heard me.
Tell him I ain't in.

That man with the pencil
is the real star of this picture.

He was a writer-
many kinds of a writer.

a social critic, a humorist
and a technician.

His name was
William Sidney Porter...

but you'll remember him
by his pen name.

That's part of our language now-
O. Henry.

I'm a writer too.
My name is John Steinbeck.

I've always believed that
a writer should be read, not seen.

But O. Henry's dead.
He can't speak for himself.

I wonder if he would
if he could.

Remember O. Henry's safecracker,
Jimmy Valentine?

Little boys still want to grow up to be like
the Cisco Kid, the Robin Hood of the West.

Our folklore is full of O. Henry-
his courage and his gaiety and his people.

He wrote so many good stories,
it's hard to choose.

Here's one in point.

"The Cop and the Anthem".
You wanna hear it?

"When wild geese
honk high of nights...

and ladies without fur coats
grow kind to their husbands...

then you may know
that winter is near at hand...

and that the time has come to resolve oneself
into a Committee of Ways and Means...

to provide against
the coming rigors.

If, in addition, one is a denizen
of the city's parks...

like our good friend
Soapy here...

the need is not only great, but a state
of real emergency may be said to exist. "

Yes, Officer. Certainly.

At once.

Good morning,
Mr. Throckmorton

Ah, good morning,
Truesdale.

- Kind of chilly, ain't it?
- Bracing, my boy. Bracing.

Have you made any plans
for the winter yet, Mr. Throckmorton?

- You may call me Soapy, Horace.
- Thank you, sir. Have you?

Naturally.

You ain't thinkin' of
going to jail again, are ya?

- And why not?
- Because jails ain't what they used to be.

They're lettin' 'em
run down something awful.

They say almost anybody
can get in 'em nowadays.

My dear fellow, you must not listen
to every rumor you hear.

From long experience,
I can assure you that our fair city boasts...

of no finer institution
than its penal system.

What is more to the point, I am a man
of simple, if discriminating, tastes.

Three months in jail,
safe from wind and snow...

and the bludgeons
of the blue-coated minions of the law.

Good morning, Officer.
Three months, I say...

uh, of assured bed, board
and congenial company...

at the city's expense
are all that I ask of life.

I don't know, Soapy.
To me, jail's jail.

I'm, uh, considering
Florida myself.

Florida, that crass, unspeakable place,
the Coney Island of the tropics?

Fit only for millionaires and reluctant
witnesses? No, my friend.

For 15 years now,
a hospitable, luxurious...

well-heated cell has been
my winter quarters.

I would not swap one night
of it for a full season at Palm Beach.

A fellow was telling me
that these people run...

some nice places downtown
for dependents like us.

Charity? No, thank you. I'll take
the law over philanthropy any day.

For every benefit received
at the hands of charity, one must pay-

if not in coin, at least in humiliation
of spirit.

For every bed,
there is the toll of a bath.

Nor, may I add,
does the law insist on prayer...

morning, noon and night.

How are you going
to work it this year, Soapy?

Oh, there are devious ways,
my friend.

Wait here.

- Say, look here! That's my umbrella!
- Oh, it is, is it?

- Yes, I...
- Suppose you call a policeman and tell him that.

Go on. Call him.

There's one
at the corner.

Why don't you call him
and tell him I took your umbrella?

If you don't, I will. Officer...

I'm sorry, but you know
how these things happen.

I picked it up in a restaurant this morning,
by mistake, of course.

If you recognize it as your umbrella,
I hope you'll excuse me.

Dirty crook.

There are other ways, my friend, one of these
being first to satisfy the inner man.

Shall we go?

No, no, no. Ah.

What are you gonna order,
Soapy?

How 'bout some, uh, roast mallard duck
to begin with...

accompanied by a bottle of Chablis wine,
provided the year and vintage are right.

- Duck for breakfast?
- Breakfast, by all means.

After which, perhaps, uh, a Camembert,
coffee and, unquestionably, a cigar.

Under the circumstances, I would think
a dollar cigar would be just about right.

A whole dollar
for one cigar?

My dear fellow, upon such occasions as this,
one cannot afford to be niggardly.

Wait for me there
on the curb.

- Yes, sir?
- Cigar, please.

- Yes, sir. Any particular brand, sir?
- Your best.

Yes, sir.

- Enjoy your breakfast, sir?
- The duck was slightly overdone.

I do suggest you speak
to your chef about that.

Oh, yes, sir. Certainly, sir.

- It's inferior. Is this your choice brand?
- Yes, sir.

- It is?
- Allow me, sir.

Will there be anything else, sir?

- Just my check, please.
- Yes, sir. The check.

Yes, sir.
Check coming up.

It may interest you
to know, my good man...

that I and the minutest
coin of the realm are total strangers.

- Uh, how's that?
- I said I was broke.

Don't just stand there with your adenoids
showing. Go and call a cop.

- What's the matter?
- He says he isn't going to pay for it.

- He hasn't got any money.
- No money?

No money.

- Come on, you-
- Come on, you thief!

What do you think, coming in here-

Oh! What are you
doing to that man?

- He- He hasn't any money.
- After eating everything on the menu too.

- Is this true?
- They neglected to add...

that I also ordered
a dollar cigar.

Although I must say that any resemblance
between it and tobacco is purely coincidental.

- A cop will know what to do with his kind.
- Never mind. Let him go.

- Let him go?
- You heard what I said. It's on the house.

You stay out of this.
Nobody asked your opinion.

Poor devil's probably starving.

Get him outside as quietly as you can.
I don't want any trouble.

Trouble? You don't want
any trouble?

Listen, you nincompoop.
I don't want any of your charity.

I am a citizen.
I stand on my constitutional rights!

I insist on being arrested.
Do you understand me? Arrested!

- Outside!
- No! You can't do this to me!

Have me arrested, you dogs!
Have me arrested!

Soapy!

- What happened?
- I've been double-crossed.

- Are you hurt?
- Physically, no.

- Didn't work, eh?
- Due to circumstances beyond my control, no.

However,
I'm not discouraged.

Two battles lost does not mean
that the war is lost.

It only means that some other way than
through the stomach must be thought of.

- Shall we leave this loathsome neighborhood?
- Take this with you!

- Are you hurt?
- No, thank you.

Gosh. Your umbrella.
Are you all right?

I ought to report you
for this banana.

Oh, I'm sorry, sir.

- What was that?
- Call the police!

Police!

- Who threw it there?
- I did.

- Which way did he go?
- There! There he goes!

- Hold that man!
- Hey, wait a minute. I did it!

Hey, come back!
I did it!

I did it!

E- Excuse me.
You forgot this.

Good afternoon, my dear.

Aren't you a little lonely
window-shopping all by yourself?

Wouldn't you prefer
to come and play in my backyard?

Sure, I don't mind,
if you buy me a drink.

How's dear cousin Fanny?

I... I'm afraid, my dear,
there's been a mistake.

Mistake?
What kind of mistake?

- I owe you an apology.
- Apology for what?

For allowing you to think that I might buy
you a drink. That's quite impossible.

I haven't got
a dime to my name.

- Hey, what is this? You trying to kid me?
- Not in the least, my dear.

I'm only trying to undo
the wrong I've done you-

a wrong committed, I might add,
for reasons that your young...

and inexperienced mind
couldn't possibly understand.

Since my means are limited,
I can only ask your pardon...

perhaps persuade you to accept,
as a token of my regard...

the last, uh, valuable left to me
from a once formidable estate.

My compliments to a charming
and delightful young lady.

What's going on here?
What's happening?

He called me a lady.

Think of it. Thousands of them swinging
their blasted clubs...

walking their blasted beats...

doing nothing but eat up
the taxpayers' money.

All day long I've flaunted the law
in their faces...

and not a one of them-
not a single one, mind you-

has lifted a little finger
to prevent it.

I've a good mind to write
to my congressman.

You going to the park
again tonight, Soapy?

Where else can I go?

There isn't any hurry.

Listen to the music.

I seem to remember that tune
from somewhere.

No? Well, this might be
a country churchyard...

such as I knew
in my youth...

in the days when life contained such things
as mothers and roses...

ambition and friends,
immaculate thoughts...

and Little Lord Fauntleroy
collars.

Let's go in for a moment
and enjoy the peace.

Me?

The front door is open
The invitation is obvious.

What's the matter, Soapy?

Ain't you feeling
good, Soapy?

Hey, maybe tomorrow
will be different.

Maybe if you was to try
somewhere else...

like Central Park maybe
or Wall Street.

There'll be no tomorrow-
at least no tomorrow as you imagine it.

That phase of my life
has ended.

You sure you
feeling good, Soapy?

Maybe if you was to go back
and sit down again.

It isn't my body that's sick.
It's my soul.

For the first time
in my life...

I've viewed the horrible pit
into which I've tumbled-

the degraded days,
unworthy desires...

dead hopes, wrecked faculties,
base motives...

that have made up my useless existence!

I wasn't gonna tell you, Soapy,
but I got 30 cents a lady give me.

- I'll buy ya a beer.
- It isn't beer that I need.

It's hope, faith...

the assurance that it's still not too late
to pull myself out of the mire...

to make a man
of myself again...

to conquer the evil that's
taken possession of me!

We better get out of here.
If somebody was to hear you talking like that...

there's no telling what
we'd have to go through.

People praying over us,
preaching to us.

But there is time.
I'm still comparatively young.

Resurrect my old
and eager ambitions...

and pursue them
without faltering.

I'll give up this life
of dissipation and idleness.

Tomorrow I'll go into the roaring downtown
district and find work.

I recall a fur merchant...

who once offered me
a position.

I think I must have his card
about me somewhere.

I'll find him, lay my plight before him,
seek his aid.

Yes, here is his card.

I recall his kindly face.

A noble man,
if ever I met one.

He'll give me a job.
He'll help me make something of myself.

- I'll be somebody in the world!
- Okay, come along.

- Huh? Officer, what have I done?
- Never mind. Come along.

Don't give me any of your lip,
or I'll bash in that skull of yours.

Come on!

Loitering, eh?
Guilty or not guilty?

Your Honor,
if it pleases the court-

One of those
argumentative types, eh?

- Where did you pick him up?
- Comin' out of church.

Church?

Your Honor, I'd just stepped
in to refresh my soul.

I'd just undergone the most salutary
spiritual experience.

I'm a reformed man, and I...
Today I'd planned to apply for a position.

- Find any candlesticks on him?
- Oh, no, Your Honor. I assure you.

- Maybe he was trying to rob the poor box.
- Oh, no, Your Honor.

I didn't find a thing on him-
not even a dime.

- Ninety days.
- For what?

Vagrancy-
no visible means of support.

Next case.

O. Henry learned about jail
the hard way-

in jail.

He did his research on an iron cot,
listening to his cell mates.

He never felt superior
to the people he wrote about.

And maybe it's that humility
that draws us to his stories again and again.

Here's one of the best,
"The Clarion Call".

"Half of this story can be found in the records
of the police department.

There is no record
of the other half...

but it belongs behind the doors
of the editorial office...

of a New York newspaper. "

Well, welcome back.
How'd it go?

- I got him there.
- Good.

- Nine.
- Uh, 18.

Hi, Chief.

Hello, Barney.

One counterfeiter delivered to federal prison,
Leavenworth, Kansas.

- And now I'm bushed.
- No wonder. Long trip, handcuffed for five days.

Uh-uh.
Not that long.

I took the handcuffs off
outside Newark.

He was an old man of 70,
going in for good.

That train ride was his last chance
to stretch his legs.

You look tired. Take some time.
Lay out till Monday.

Thanks. They found some more counterfeit
in the old boy's shoe.

The warden ducked and asked us to turn
it over to the downtown treasury.

Hundred-dollar bills?

- Beautiful job.
- Almost perfect.

They trapped him
on the picture.

The old goat parted
Franklin's hair on the left side.

Said it looked better.

You signed for it, you keep it.
We'll send it down Monday.

- Get some rest.
- Thanks.

Does this belong to you?

No, that's a clue
in the Norcross murder case.

Robbery knockdown.
Happened while you were away.

None of that means anything.
No fingerprints, no nothing.

Must be
an out-of-town killer.

I know everybody's work
around here.

Looks expensive.
Where'd you find it?

On the rug
in Norcross's room.

Whoever killed him left it.
There's some printing on it.

Yeah.
"Camptown Races.

July the fourth, 1901."

Doesn't mean a thing.

It's a nice tune though...
"Camptown Races".

Mind if I check it out
a while?

Sure, sure.

If you think you can do any better.
It's our only lead.

I used to sing it myself
in the old days.

A good quartet number.

Do you happen to know Johnny Kernan?

- Who?
- Kernan. Johnny Kernan.

No, I don't
believe I do.

Thanks.

- Something I can do for you?
- No, thanks.

There.
It's Johnny Kernan.

But he's only
been registered a week.

Maybe it isn't the same one.

It's the same one.

Look, I'm not full owner.
There isn't gonna be any trouble.

He's the best wrestler
I ever saw.

Whenever the referee
ain't lookin', he gets 'em.

Give me a beer.

- How's the bock holding out?
- Fine, fine.

Guess who!

Guess who! Go ahead!
Guess. Guess who. Guess who.

I don't have to guess.

Hello, Johnny.

The big man,
Barney Woods.

I bet you'd have known me
anywhere by that trick, huh?

I'd have known you
anywhere.

Give him a big drink. We're old pals
from back in Erie, P.A.

- Long time ago, huh, Barney?
- Yeah.

He ordered a beer.

He just finished it.

- Now get him a real drink.
- Yes, sir.

Clam head! Oughta give him
a mouthful of knuckles.

What about the old bunch back at
the hotel? See Gimp Charlie much?

Oh, I lost track years ago.
I've been living here for a long time.

No foolin'!
Wish I did.

I'm just passing through.
Going to Chicago tonight.

Hey, uh, whatever happened to, uh, uh, Hazel-
Hazel? Was that her name?

- Yeah. I married her.
- No foolin'!

Bet you got a ton of kids by now, huh?

Oh, that was some place
around the Star-Union Hotel.

Remember
Sore Jaw Weber, huh?

And the singin'!
We must have did a hundred songs.

- Hey, you.
- Yeah?

- You know "Sweet Genevieve"?
- A little.

A little! Clam head! That's one of
the best songs there was!

Don't forget
the "Camptown Races".

The best. The best! The best!
The absolute best!

- You know that one?
- Yeah.

Yeah. Him and me won a prize doing that one.
Quartet out at the picnic grounds.

Go ahead.
Start it up.

Go on! Open your throat!
Start! Sing, will you?

Sing!

Come on! Sing!

Ah, that's good, huh? Wish we had the Doc
and Jonesy for balance though.

Come on, ya monkey!
Clap! That was good.

Clap!

Okay.

How 'bout "Heart of My Heart"?

Oh, I don't know, Johnny. Why don't we go
somewhere where we can talk?

Sure, sure.
The old times, huh?

Come on upstairs.
I got a jug.

We'll belt a few, have the old times
all over again, huh?

I doubt it. We had 'em once.
We can belt a few anyway.

Sure.

Look at you.

What are you doing here?

Get out! Get out.

Go to your room!
We wanna talk!

Can I stay and talk
too, Johnny?

Move, or I'll knock some
of that fat off of you!

What a nerve, huh?

- What do you want?
- The kitten. I've got to have something to do.

Yeah, kitten!

Here. Now, get out!

Now, where's the food, huh?

Ah, here it is.

For a man that's just passing through,
you've got all the comforts of home.

I always manage
to keep a jug handy.

I'll get this glass
cleaned up a little bit.

Well, bring me
up to date.

You still doing
hotel work?

No, Johnny.
Police work.

Detective,
16th Precinct.

Well, what do you know?

Honor bright.

Well, you got
the right trainin'.

I still remember
Barney Woods...

best speller
in the third grade.

What about you, Johnny?
Still as restless as ever?

I manage to live.
We can't all be good spellers.

Here.

I'll trade you.

It's yours.
Mine's at home.

That was a good quartet, huh?

First prize we ever got-
four gold pencils.

- Wonder what happened to Doc's.
- I don't know.

But yours was on the floor
of the Norcross house.

Pack your linen, Johnny.

Wait a minute, friend.

I can still take you.

Now, get up.

Get out of that coat.

Throw it over here.

I always was born
a few minutes ahead of you, Barney.

Where'd you get
all this steam?

I knew you had a little trouble upstate,
a little bank work-

- But murder?
- Ring off! Ring off. Ring off.

Don't get sentimental about
some old guy neither of us ever met.

Gun or no gun, Johnny,
I'm gonna have to take you in.

Why? Why, huh?

You're the only one who could connect me
with that pencil.

That's right.

Then let's pretend
this is one you never heard about.

Sorry.

You ain't gonna take me in.

- Why?
- If you were me, you'd take me in.

But you ain't.
You're honor bright.

You're dumb
Barney Woods.

You've got a debt
to square.

Don't count on something
that happened that long ago.

It'll never be long ago
for you, Barney. Don't kid me.

It'll always be right now.

The backroom
of the Star-Union Hotel.

The hour and the night...

and the pail of beer
that caused it.

It's in your eyes
right now-

the trouble you were in.

You couldn't afford
to lose money you didn't have.

You were on probation.

You'd been a bad boy,
but people were willin' to forget about it.

After all,
it was just a slip.

But you couldn't
stand another one.

That state pen down at Harrisburg
was a little too close.

One more slip'd
get you a train ticket...

and a nice
new suit of clothes.

Well, you made it that night.

You wrote out a check
for a thousand dollars you didn't have.

The next morning you had
all the trouble you needed.

That's the size of it, Barney.
You were on your way up.

A loser.
And don't kid yourself.

You'd have stayed a loser.

'Cause once they make you
walk up an alley...

you'd never use
a front door again.

So I bailed you out.

You stammered and said you didn't know
when you could pay it back.

I said, "I'll wait".

So I'm waitin'.

And now
I want my thousand.

That's what I said, pal.
"There'll come a day".

And here it is.

How 'bout that drink now, huh?
Come on. Come on.

You can afford it.
I'm buying.

Oh, you don't drink
on duty, huh?

Copper.

Look at ya.

Look at that suit,
those shoes.

You couldn't pay back
10% of it.

- What do you make, 40 a month?
- A little more than that.

You were a cop
from the start.

- You've always had your hat in your hand.
- Is that all?

It is if you can't pay up.

Maybe some other time.

If you had any belly,
you'd take me in right now.

But that little favor out in the past
sticks in your craw.

It's there to remind you
what a naughty boy you were.

If you ever get in the way of some money,
look me up, huh?

Well, well, well!
Look who's here.

The big man.

Sit down.
Let me buy you a drink.

Hello, Johnny.

I never knew of a good thief
that'd touch liquor.

- Makes you bigmouthed.
- This is a special occasion. Very special.

I'm catching the night train
for Chicago.

Did you follow me here?

No.

I've got part of the money,
Johnny- nearly $300.

- I want you to take it.
- Stop kidding. Stop kidding.

A debt's a debt.

If you give somebody a hand,
you don't give them your little finger.

You give them
your whole hand.

It's a thousand
or nothing.

Look, how long do you think
you can get away with this sort of thing?

Take a tip from me.
Give yourself up.

Put in a plea.
Go light.

I'm light now. I'm light.
Can't you see?

You're the only one
could put a hand on me.

No, you're all wrong.

Police files
are never dead, Johnny.

- Some cop somewhere, he'll get a line on you.
- Nah!

Could be anybody anywhere.
Could- Could be somebody like that?

- Yeah, they could put a finger on you.
- Who's that?

It's Dave Bascom.

He's the city editor
of The Clarion-Call.

Newsboys!
Bunch of clam heads, all of them!

They got nothin' on me.

Hey.

You a city editor?

I work on a paper.

Big bunch of crime solvers, ain't ya?

What about the Norcross murder?
What have you done?

- We've got a man working on it.
- Sure, sure!

Big crime stoppers.
What's he done, huh? What's he done?

Did he check with a cab driver down
at 34th and Fifth? No, he didn't check.

Did he check with a lady across the street
who saw a man go in the house? No!

Clam head didn't
do nothin' right. Nothin'!

Nothin'.

- Is that all?
- Ain't that enough?

Big crime reporters.

Couldn't find a hangnail
if they told you what hand it was on.

Clam head.

That was a mistake. He's one of
the best heads on Herald Square.

Oh, you don't think
that meant anything, do you?

The cabbie and the lady
across the street?

I went in the back way.

I just wanted to show
he was a clam head. That's all.

I'm afraid you're
too smart for us, Johnny.

I'm sick of looking
at you, Barney.

Go somewhere.

- Good luck, John.
- You don't mean that, pal.

No, you're wrong.

I wouldn't wish you bad luck.
You'll have enough of that.

Hmm!

Hmm.

- What's your name?
- Frank.

- Where do you live?
- 221 East Fifth Street.

- I thought I told you to take a breather.
- You did, sir.

But I was in the neighborhood. Besides, I've got
something I want to talk to you about.

- It's personal.
- Sure. I'll be with you in a minute.

Look, this is the third time
in the last two weeks you've-

You know how it is.

All right, Barney.
What can I do for you?

Barney?

It's getting
steadily worse.

We've now hit
rock bottom.

Hoodlums, vandals,
criminals of every stripe...

have turned our police power
into a laughingstock.

It's become a huge public joke.

Mr. Bascom. There's a man here
from the police department.

- Says he wants to see you. He says it's urgent.
- Send him in.

Hello, Barney.

Westbound Limited.

- Chicago, Omaha, Denver-
- Here you go, tar bucket.

Los Angeles,
San Francisco.

I've got something
for you.

Where'd you get it?

Where'd a cop like you pick up
a thousand dollars in clean hundreds?

Never mind where I got it.
Just count it.

I trust you, Barney.
I trust you.

The important thing is,
where does this leave us?

We're all square.

Fair enough. Fair enough.
Fair enough, huh?

So we start from scratch.

Go ahead. Take me in.

Just so we'll end even, good luck, Barney.

Save your strength.

You got a broken
firing pin.

Up in that hotel room.

You don't think I'd
give you a healthy gun?

Give me that.

Get over here.

Get out.

Step over it,
you clam head.

O. Henry was born
in North Carolina.

He moved to Texas
when he was 20.

He bummed all over the Southwest,
the Gulf ports...

even the banana republics
of Central America.

He was 40 when he reached New York,
and he loved the city.

Called it
"Baghdad on the Subway".

New York gave him
a new Arabian Nights.

Look at this one
he called "The Last Leaf".

The setting?
Greenwich Village.

The time? Winter.

The condition?
A blizzard.

This was the village
of low rents and high art...

where poverty and ambition
held hands.

But also life went on...

and death went on...

and love went on.

And sometimes
love stopped.

Whoa! Whoa!

Joanna. It's about time
you got back.

Your sister got so wild,
she almost called up the police.

Susan! Susan!

Jo!

Well, how is she,
Doctor?

Pneumonia.

I'll look by
in the morning.

Thank you, Doctor.

- Will she be all right?
- Oh, she's young.

No reason why she
shouldn't pull through.

Good day.

Pneumonia.

And all because
of that actor.

- I warned her against him hundred times.
- Shh.

- I know men like him like I know colors.
- Mr. Behrman.

Ah! Would she listen to me,
to the man who knows everything...

who has been everyplace
and seen everything?

Mr. Behrman, please.

Yes, I know what you and
your sister think of me.

Just an old goat who lives upstairs and makes
a lot of noise on the ceiling.

- Mr. Behrman, will you please be quiet?
- What is the matter with you?

Why are you so excited?
You heard what the doctor said.

She's young. She will pull through well.
She'll be all right.

It'll be a good lesson
for her.

Now, you stay here,
and I'll take care of this.

- I was going to the art dealer anyway.
- Thank you.

Mr. Behrman-
Tell the druggist to charge it.

Yeah. Actors. I hate actors
more than I hate poison!

The doctor says
it's nothing.

Just a couple
of days rest.

Of course, he thinks you ought to be spanked
for going out in such weather.

Sue. I'm so ashamed.

Why should you be?

Oh, sure,
your pride's hurt now.

Six months from now you'll be laughing
about it if you even remember.

Now close your eyes
and go to sleep.

I can't.

Nonsense.
Of course you can.

You don't understand.

I...

I haven't told you
everything...

about Sheldon and me,
I mean.

You don't have to.

I think I've known
for a long time.

What you must
think of me.

I... I feel like...

Look, baby, it isn't the end
of the world...

because-well,
you made a mistake.

What we both need
is a change of scene.

Oh.

I'll pick it up
in five minutes.

- Behrman, not again.
- Now, look here, Boris.

You can take my word...

of a man who is
independently poor.

I've done exactly everything
the way you told me.

I bought an apple, I bought a pear,
and I bought a banana.

And I put it all in a bowl
and I started to paint.

Just like you told me.
Look.

Another Behrman.

Ai, yi, yi, yi, yi, yi!

Behrman. Maybe you are
ahead of your time.

Maybe in 1950 they will recognize it
for what it is-

whatever it is.

But my customers only like paintings
they can recognize.

All arts must communicate.

And yours doesn't say anything
to anybody who comes in here.

Look here, Boris. What you've got on your walls,
a camera can do much better.

- I know, I know.
- No comparison!

For once, why don't you paint something that
people can see what they're looking at?

- You can do me a great favor- don't
tell me what to paint. - Behrman, please.

We are old friends, huh?
Try again.

Go back and paint
an apple...

a banana and a pear.

- I can't!
- Why not?

I ate them.

Look here. Would you
buy this Behrman...

if I give you my sacred word of honor
that I will try again?

All right.
Three dollars.

Three dollars for a Behrman?
You always pay me five.

Business is bad.

Well, then you cannot afford it
even for three dollars.

I'd rather starve until 1950,
if necessary.

Three dollars for a Behrman!
Who does he think I am?

Well, it's all ready.
That'll be two dollars.

- All right. Charge it to Miss Goodwin.
- Miss Goodwin.

Sorry, sir.
No more credit.

What are you talking about? The girl is sick,
and you're talking about credit?

I only work here.
I've got my orders.

All right. Wrap it up.
I'll be back in a minute.

I am coming into
a small inheritance.

I've treated a great many patients,
Miss Goodwin.

Some accomplish miracles...

because their will to live
is the best medicine they could find.

There's also
a will to die.

I could save your sister
if she wanted me to...

but she doesn't.

Whatever the reason,
she isn't helping me.

You must be wrong, Doctor.
She has so much to live for.

Mmm. If you can convince her of that,
she'd pass the crisis.

I can only do so much.

Well!

- The broth will be warm in a minute.
- I'm not hungry.

Another one.

What?

- You know, it's funny.
- What's funny?

Oh, the things you notice
when you're ill.

Things you never
noticed before.

Like what?

Like that ivy vine
across the court.

What about it?

Yesterday I counted
exactly 21 leaves on it.

- Don't you think that's funny?
- Why funny?

Don't you see?
I'm 21.

Now there are only 14.

I'm getting younger.

In a day or so,
they'll all be gone.

And when
the last leaf goes-

That's funny too,
isn't it?

The way things live...

die.

Oh, but it's good
to be alive, Jo!

You believe that,
don't you, baby?

I'm so tired, Sue.

You take a nap.

It'll do you
a world of good.

- Don't- Don't do that.
- I just want to darken the room.

I like to look outside
when I wake up.

You will try to get
some sleep, won't you?

I'll try.

That old goat!

It doesn't bother me, Sue.

Well, it bothers me.

Come in!

How's your sister?

If you really cared,
I wouldn't have to be here again.

Oh, yes, I know.
I'm making so much noise.

But, you see,
when I paint...

I get so mad with myself
that I... I forget myself.

Is she really so sick, huh?
I thought by now she-

- No.
- What's wrong with her?

I don't know.

She's got some crazy idea
about the leaves...

on the vine
across the court.

What kind
of a crazy idea?

I think she-
Oh, it's so hard to explain.

But- But somehow she feels that the vine
has something to do with her life...

that-

that when
all the leaves go...

she'll go.

Look, Susan, this is
all absolutely crazy.

I know it sounds silly, but... the way she talked
about the vine just now.

Look, now, you're-
you're tired.

You haven't slept all these nights,
and all this is making you sick too.

If you could have
heard her-

Maybe you're right.

- Maybe I am beginning to imagine things.
- Of course you are.

Now, look, you go
to your sister...

and I promise you
I'll be as quiet as a mouse.

A dead one.

Hey! No more
of these crazy ideas.

All right.

Jo! Jo!

Those leaves
don't mean a thing.

You're going to get well,
baby.

You're going to get well!

We should know by morning.