You can tell me now.
I'm reasonably sober.

I don't think I will.
Why not? I got stuck with the
railway ticket. I'm entitled to know.

Last night I saw
what has happened to you.

The Rick I knew in Paris,
I could tell him. He'd understand.

But the one who looked at me
with such hatred. . . .

I'll be leaving soon and
we'll never see each other again.

We knew very little about each other
when we were in love in Paris.

If we leave it that way, maybe we'll
remember those days, and not Casablanca.

Not last night.
Did you run out on me because
you knew what it'd be like?

Hiding from the police,
running away all the time?

Believe that if you want to.
I'm not running away anymore.
I'm settled now.

Above a saloon, it's true, but. . . .
Walk up a flight.
I'll be expecting you.

All the same,
someday you'll lie to Laszlo.

You'll be there.
No, Rick.
No. You see,
Victor Laszlo is my husband.

And was, even when
I knew you in Paris.

I was just telling Laszlo that,
unfortunately, I'm not able to help him.

The word has gone around.
As leader of all illegal activities,
I'm an influential and respected man.

But it'd not be worth my life
to do anything for Laszlo.

You, however, are a different matter.
SeƱor Ferrari thinks it might just be
possible to get an exit visa for you.

-You mean for me to go on alone?
-And only alone.

I'll stay and keep trying.
I'm sure in a little while--

Might as well be frank.
It'd take a miracle to get you out.
The Germans have outlawed miracles.

We're only interested in two visas.
-Please, llsa, don't be hasty.
-No, Victor.

You two will want to discuss this.
Excuse me.
I'll be at the bar.

No, I won't let you stay here.
You must get to America.
Somehow I'll get out and join you.