Bogart is trying to erase Riggs and his fedora with his smoke. Any chance he was in on the murder? Also, he’s still checking his iPhone. I don’t know why he doesn’t just turn to Gloria Grahame and say something devastating. Hell, even a dumb joke. But maybe, like me, he’s coming to terms with the fact that about extreme beauty there is really absolutely nothing to say. The proof: I notice her every day, but words become syllables, then letters, then nothing. Silence. There she is.