For a man of such stature as Carl Denham, you'd think that he'd be living in a palace-or perhaps a palatial hollywood mansion. Lord knows he feels like he deserves it
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Mark blinks, taking in the soup kitchen line, especially the family. He takes a deep breath, wincing a bit. Shuffling in his pockets, he comes up with a ten dollar bill from the thirties. Thank heavens for Bar. "I'll be right back, Carl." He walks over to the family, looking a bit odd. "Hey. I know what it's like to not eat for a while. Take this. Please."
Mark smiles. "You're welcome, ma'am. Just wish I could do more." He strides off, quickly, before anyone else can say anything. He goes back to where Carl is, still striding purpousely, if a bit red in the cheeks. He's not saying anything, just swearing at himself that he doesn't have any more money with him.
Fingers and eyes turn and point to Carl and Mark as a police officer on horseback moves from his position across the street. More police follow-someone screams.
"Great." Carl grabs Mark's arm, "Run! or they'll think we had something to do with it! I have no interest in spending time in county lockup!"
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The Father, looking up, eyes Mark suspiciously-along with the money.
"Daddy?" The Girl frowns, "...what'd he?"
"Oh Paul-"
The woman turns eyes shining with tears to Mark, "....thank you..."
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One of the great unwashed points.
"That guy's giving out MONEY!"
Fingers and eyes turn and point to Carl and Mark as a police officer on horseback moves from his position across the street. More police follow-someone screams.
"Great." Carl grabs Mark's arm, "Run! or they'll think we had something to do with it! I have no interest in spending time in county lockup!"
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