Pocketful of Miracles

- We're on our way.
- You're keepin' Darcey waitin'.

- So let him wait.
- You can't. The man is king.

The king loses face, our heads
go on display in the marketplace.

You've been reading books again.
Where the hell is Annie?

Annie. Annie!
Big shots. Big dopes!
Your life depends on a beggar's apples,
and this superstitious heel...

- Are you still here?
- You'll wind up in the federal pen.

Or swimming with your feet
in cement, like Papa.

- That's why I'm marrying Howard Porter.
- Don't keep the groom waiting.

- Not another minute!
- Get back in there.

- If I could only cry!
- Queenie!

Dude, I can't find Apple Annie anywhere.
She ain't nowhere, I'm telling you.

I hope she croaks!
What do you mean,
you can't find her anywhere?

All you gotta do is ask
any panhandler on Broadway.

- There ain't no panhandlers on Broadway.
- What?

There ain't a beggar on the street.
It's scary. It's like Broadway was naked.
I'm ashamed to look at it.

Hi, Mr Dude, fellas.
Well, the Easter Parade's
a little early this year.

- No panhandlers on Broadway, huh?
- I didn't see 'em before, boss.

- I should drop dead...
- Maybe you should.

It's only an expression.
- Any of you crumbs seen Apple Annie?
- Yeah, I saw her.

One at a time. You.
- It's about Annie.
- What about Annie?

- She's in a pickle.
- Pickled. I can believe that.

Mallethead saw her on the waterfront,
in the water looking.

She was stumblin' along, talkin' to herself.
She was sobbing.
It's good I ran into her.

- So she got a package on.
- It's worse than bein' swacked.

She was swiping stationery
from the Marberry Hotel.

- And writin' letters to her daughter.
- Daughter? That old bag?

She's a woman, ain't she?
- What's this about a daughter?
- Annie's got a daughter in Spain.

Raised in a convent since she was a baby.
- She's comin' to visit, bringing a count.
- She's gonna marry a count or somethin'.