EXT. CAIRO MARKET. DAY
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A STREET MARKET in full sway,
a locals-only affair, blazing with noise and bustle and barter. Emerging
from a thicket of women and begging children, KATHARINE CLIFTON carries
her purchase of an exotic-looking Carpet.
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From nowhere she is joined by Almásy who nods at the carpet.
ALMÁSY: How much did you pay? KATHARINE (delighted): Oh, hello! |
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ALMÁSY: They don't see foreign women in this market. How much did you pay? KATHARINE: Seven, eight pounds, I suppose. ALMÁSY: Which stall? KATHARINE: Why? ALMÁSY: You've been cheated, don't worry, we'll take it back. KATHARINE (bristling): I don't want to take it back. |
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ALMÁSY: This is not worth eight pounds, Mrs. Clifton. KATHARINE: It is to me. ALMÁSY: Did you bargain? KATHARINE: I don't care to bargain. ALMÁSY: That insults them. |
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KATHARINE (turning to face
him): I don't believe
that. I think you are insulted by me, somehow.
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ALMÁSY (of
the carpet): I'd be
very happy to obtain the correct price for this. I apologize if I appear
abrupt. I am rusty at social graces.
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ALMÁSY: How
do you find Cairo? Did you visit the Pyramids?
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KATHARINE: Excuse me. ALMÁSY: Or the Sphinx? |
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He stands as she continues,
pushing past him, boiling.
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