Meanwhile she was claiming “Play it Sam, for old time’s sake…” something was changed inside her:
-It’s been a long time. I mean long because of the rivers crossing over, but also because of Rick’s lack…. Sing that song Sam, and maybe we might conjure those last gravities and sorrows. In Casablanca, wind is so cold that nights look frozen being alone. Ice then covers deserts, and caravans must travel far way with no hope. Be a liar… but remember this.
That exactly is the missing point from the plot.
