Boardwalk Empire
New York Sour

Episode Report Card
Daniel: B+ | 58 USERS: A-
YOU GRADE IT
Are We Having Dunn Yet?

Oh, the Artemis Club. What have they done with you? Oh, right. Gillian’s showing a man around the empty place, touting its features, such as the twelve bathrooms. "Lot of upkeep," says the man, noncommittally. Gillian says it was built during the Great Age, and is waiting for the right man to bring it back to life. You don’t need to be a genius to get the "Are you still talking about the house?" vibe here. Gillian sighs, and gazes at the window, describing the potential for the place, clearly sad about what she never had here: "Cotillions with full orchestras. Ermine muffs on winter nights." Well, that last one, in a manner of speaking… The potential buyer tells her she’s "quite the scene-painter," and she says she’s just describing the possibilities.

Leaving the man to think about it for a moment, Gillian goes into another room with minimal furnishings — and prepares a syringe of heroin, for an arm that clearly hasn’t been a stranger to it since Gyp Rosetti shot her up. It’s a noticeably mellower Gillian who returns to the room where the prospective buyer is looking out the window, and asks him what the verdict is. He figures he has to ask how much. "It’s not really the amount, is it? It’s what you get for it," she says. It’s still a number, he tells her, and the conversation is taking a decidedly ominous tone. He turns to face her. "Thirty," she says. And in case you’re thinking, "Yeah, thirty thousand is probably about right in old-timey money," he looks her up and down and nods, and she adds, "If you want me to put it in my mouth, it’s another ten." Not that I’m comparison shopping, but that sounds like an awful lot for a hummer. But I guess you pay for what you get, right?

Elsewhere, an assistant named Florence knocks the door of the darkened Old Mission Title and Insurance office of a Mr. Warner to ask if he needs anything else. We don’t see Mr. Warner, but we can hear the agitation in his voice as he tells her to have a good evening. She reminds him that she put the present on his desk, and all he has to do is sign the card. She says goodnight, and leaves, not getting a response.

Over at Warner’s desk, which is lit by a single desk lamp. He nervously pats the box and says he’s pretty sure they’re roller skates. No response from whoever it is he’s talking to, like we don’t know. "You have children?" asks Warner, still to no response. LOOK WE KNOW IT’S RICHARD HARROW. Warner then starts explaining he’s just a middleman who takes orders from Milwaukee and doesn’t ask questions. "I call a number, they do the rest. If someone gets hurt, that’s not my…"

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Boardwalk Empire

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