I never knew the old Vienna before the war, with its Strauss music, its glamour and easy charm - Constantinople suited me better. I really got to know it in the classic period of the Black Market. We'd run anything, if people wanted it enough and had the money to pay - of course, a situation like that does tend to amateurs but you know they can't stay the course like a professional. Now the city is devided into four zones, each occupied by a power - the Americans, the British, the Russians and the French. But the centre of the city - that's international, policed by an International Patrol. One member of each of the four powers. What a hope they had, all strangers to the place and none of them could speak the same language, except for a sort of smattering of German. Good fellows on the whole, even if it doesn't look any worse than a lot of other European cities, bombed about a bit... Oh wait, I was going to tell you about Holly Martins from America - he came all the way here to visit a friend of his. The name was Lime, Harry Lime. Now Martins was broke and Lime had offered him - I don't know - some sort of a job. Anyway, there he was, poor chap, happy as a lark and without a cent.