"A couple of policemen wanted to know what I was doing in
the middle of the night, in wartime."
"What did you tell them?"
"I told them it wasn't my war."
"Maybe it is now. Let's go downstairs."
They went down. Sam sat at the piano and played softly. Rick
smoked, and drank, and listened.
Then Sam started to play "As Time Goes By."
"Stop that, Sam."
"You remember the first time we heard that song, at the
Tootsie-Wootsie Club?" said Sam. "I've been playing it since
then. It's always been your favorite song."
"And mine," a soft voice whispered. "And mine. You play it
beautifully, Sam." Once again, Ilsa had appeared out of the
darkness, just as she had done in Casablanca.
This time Rick understood why she had come. "When are
you going?" he asked.
"Tomorrow."
"Champagne?"They had drunk champagne on their last night
together in Paris.
"Please." Sam went to get the champagne. "And, Rick,
please, will you help? This isn't about the problems of you and
me and Victor, of three little people. This is much bigger than
us. If you can't see that, you're not half the man I fell in love
with in Paris . . . " She was crying n o w . " . . . not half the man I'm
still in love with . . . " Rick put his arms around her and kissed
her, hard. She didn't pull away. "Rick, don't you see? Victor will
succeed, even if it kills him. I'm asking you to help, not for
Victor, for
me."
She sat back and looked at him. "Tomorrow, I'm going to
Prague. They need a secretary, and the Czech Resistance can get
me that job in the castle. Heydrichs people will believe that I'm
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