- There's a young lady at the door.
- This better not be another one of your shiksas.
- No dad, honestly.
- No, she's asking for Jack.
- Let me go, dad.
Let me find out.
(door unlocks) - Hello.
- You selling something, love?
- No.
No, it's, I'm looking for Jack Morris.
I think he delivered some suits here, to this address.
From Epstein Tailors in Manchester, perhaps you know him?
- No, I don't wanna upset you, love.
You seem like a nice girl, but between you and me Jack's probably onto the next bit of skirt.
- I see.
Um, well, thank you so much for your time.
Very helpful.
- Ta-ra, love.
(door latches) - Who is she, Sol?
- That's my niece.
- What do you want me to do?
Should I call your sister?
- No, I'll keep an eye on her.
(shopkeepers bartering) - Cheer up, love.
Might never happen.
(shopkeepers bartering) (somber music)
