Darling, you'll love it when you get there.
You know on Tuesday, Aunt Rose has organized a treasure hunt on ponies.
Oh, Mommy.
- Come along, Phillip. Chop to it. - Emma, Emma.
- Have you? - Yes, Mommy.
- Let's go, shall we Ms. Mathews? - Oh, Ms. Mathews.
I put your writing case on the front seat.
The right way up I hope.
In you get.
Come along.
- In you get. - There you are dear.
Bye, bye, Mommy.
Bye, bye, Sweetie.
Can you write to Aunt Rose to say I needn't eat milk puddings?
Yes, my darling. I'll telephone right away.
I'll see to that when we get there. Now in you go dear.
Emma, look after Phillip, won't you?
Yes, Mommy.
Good, darling. Have a lovely time.
Goodbye, Mommy.
Bye, bye, Daddy.
I can't really believe it.
We're not going to see Ms. Mathews for 2 whole weeks.
I shall wake up and find it's all a beautiful dream.
The vicar telephoned earlier, my lord.
Asked me to give you the lessons for Sunday.
Deuteronomy and Mathew.
He asked me to assure you they're both quite short.
Thank you, Sellers.
Why I beg your pardon, my lord.
What Sellers?
Have you finished with the Times?
Yes, I think so. Why?
Then would you mind if I had it now?
No, what do you want the Times for? Want to light a fire?
What do you want to light a fire for? It's much too warm for a fire.
Oh, no. I want to do the crossword.
Oh, well it's over in our quarters.
Doesn't it strike you as a little odd, my lord.
That your butler should want to borrow the Times in the middle of a Friday morning?
It isn't even my day off.
- Yes, I suppose. I hadn't really thought about it. / - Excuse me, my lord.
We've had a meeting.
And we've decided we must have more help.
You know Nanny I don't have anything to do with that.
I don't employ you personally. You speak to the government.
You know the place. The national, you know.
Yes, my lord.
Now, now, where was I Sellers?
Oh, yes!
What do you want to do the crossword for? Are you bored?
To death, my lord.
But why aren't you working?
I haven't any work to do.
How's that?
I've done the silver.
I've got nothing to do now except serve your tea at 4:30.
Yes?
You see, my lord.
I feel the most terrible waste of money.
I don't really think you should have a butler at all.
Yes, I don't mean to be impertinent.
What do you mean to be then?
You see, my lord. You're a contemporary.
What does that mean?
- You're not modern. - You mean
- I'm an antique. - No, my lord. You're traditional.
Ever since your family first lived in this house, they've always had butlers.
But nowadays you don't need one. Don't you see that, my lord?
There's nothing for me to do.
Really, there isn't.
But I...
Well, I.
What Sellers?
Well, I should be much happier if you were to get rid of me altogether.
Or reduce my wages by 3 pounds a week.
Now what you're saying is, in effect, is that I'm old fashioned,
out-of-date, and clinging to a way of life that's had dry rot in it for years.
No, no, I didn't say that.
Well, you're quite wrong.
This house and these lands may be mine entitled.
But I regard them as a small part of England that I hold and trust.
In trust, not only for my son.
But for the future.
That can't be right, can it?
And I'm preserving things in the most commercial way possible.
The farm pays.
The market-garden pays.
The hens pay and even the souvenirs pay.
Yes, I do see all that, my lord.
And the reason I employ you is because I'm well aware
that the paying public who parade through this house
at 2 shilling and 6 pence ahead, 1 half-crown.
Are far more thrilled by catching a glimpse of a real live butler
then they are by the Rembrandt at the top of the staircase.
So, you see, I am in fact extremely modern.
And very business-like.
And to prove it to you I'll accept your offer
and reduce your wages by 3 pounds a week beginning Monday.
- There's the change for today, Ms. Heller. / - Oh, thank you.
Half ground, 2 shillings.
Oh, Sellers.
Would you take the mushrooms to the station this afternoon.
- I'll have them packed by 4. - Very good, my lady.
Darling, I've got your coffee.
Oh, good. Sellers?
How many half-crowns are there in 3 pounds?
About a bus load, my lord.
I was just wondering.
What my love?
Do you think if I was terribly clever with Sellers
I could get him to give the children their lessons?
Give the children their lessons? Are you out of your mind?
No, only from 9:30 to 12.
He's a butler, not a governess.
Yes, but it would mean we needn't have a governess.
I could manage perfectly well. It's simply a question of their lessons.
You mean get rid of Ms. Mathews?
Yes.
You know something.
What?
I wish to make a statement.
What is it?
I adore you.
Oh do you, darling. I'm so glad.
That's the most marvelous idea you've had in your life.
We'll have to give him something a little extra, I suppose.
We'll give him 3 pounds a week extra.
Then you approve?
If we got rid of Ms. Mathews and sold the television
we'd return to a civilized way of life.
What a pity we can't sell Ms. Mathews.
You think Sellers will do it.
He will if the children and I work on him right.
Then he's bound to do it.
Darling?
I'm afraid I want to work on you, too.
It's unlike you to warn me but work on me.
Oh, you're so good to me.
What are you reading?
Well, I wanted to look something up.
What?
Henley.
Why?
If you look out that window, you'll know why.
I always feel like reading it at this time of the year.
Now, listen.
And it's all the wild spring...
- Wait a minute, is this going to take long. / - No, no it's very short.
And it's all the wild spring in his chances and dreams.
There's a lift in the blood.
This gracious and thirsting and aching unrest.
All life's at the bud.
And my heart, full of April.
Is breaking my breast.
It's May the 9th.
At least that's what I'm going to write on your check.
Who said anything about a check?
You did: this gracious and thirsting and aching unrest.
That can only mean one thing, darling.
New clothes.
Oh, you are clever, aren't you.
On the contrary, you're the one whose clever.
Ah yes, the spring.
It's a turbulent season, alright.
All the clatter of rebirth.
New nests and young grass. Ooh, it's powerful stuff.
Yes, and I warned you, my darling.
The older you get the more powerful it becomes.
A very dangerous time. So you look out.
Darling, I didn't mean a check. Honestly, I didnt.
I just wanted to ask you if I could use some of my mushroom money.
I don't allow you to accept money from other mushrooms.
Here.
Oh, you've put with love above your signature.
That's alright. I've initialed it.
Oh, here they come.
Laughing and scratching.
Spreading apple cores and nutshells all over the place.
And little bits of sticky paper.
Now we return to the main hall.
The 2 mantle pieces that you see.
Are again by Robert Adam.
The table, in the center, is French.
And it has a fine, inlayed, Italian marble top.
It was given by King Louis XIV.
To a member of the family.
Now, if you follow me, you'll continue into the west wing.
Now, this is the state bedroom.
The 4 poster bed was designed for the house.
And George IV slept in it
when he was Prince of Wales.
The fireplace is by Robert Adam.
Now we come to the Etruscan room.
Yes, I do indeed, Rose.
Yes, and it's so sweet of you to have them.
Oh, Rose!
I almost forgot.
There's a hate on against milk puddings.
Yes.
Alright, dear. Goo...
Yea...
Yes, Ro...
Yes, Rose. Goodbye, dear.
I'm sorry.
I seemed to have intruded.
Yes you have, haven't you?
Well...
I was making the tour of the house and I got kind of absorbed in this little book.
Should have gone on down the corridor I guess
but I made a mistake and took the wrong turn.
I don't call entering a door marked private making a mistake
I call that trespassing.
You gonna prosecute me?
'Cause if you are I shall defend the action
because there is no sign on this door saying private.
Oh, yes there is.
Oh, I beg your pardon.
No, I beg your pardon, Ma'am. For intruding, I mean.
- Someone must've taken it down. - Yes, Ma'am.
Yes, and in England we only call the Queen Ma'am.
In the United States we try to make up for
having no royalty by calling everyone Ma'am.
And now would you be good enough to put it back?
Put what back?
The notice you remove from the door. It's there on the floor.
Must've fallen down.
Rubbish, you put it there.
I think I deserve an explanation.
Oh it's quite simple really.
As I had said. I spent a
wonderful hour going through your beautiful home.
Oh, you mean house, don't you?
You could hardly call a place a home
when people only have to pay 2 and 6 pence to walk all over it.
So, not content with seeing the public rooms
you wanted to see the private ones as well, is that it?
Let's just say I was curious to see the people who live in them.
Well, nowadays, I'm afraid
an Englishman's home is not his castle,
it's his income, and it's unfair of you to take advantage of it.
Yes, Ma'am.
I mean, no Ma'am.
I don't mean no Ma'am,
I just remember not to say Ma'am. That's all.
Don't worry about it anymore.
Thank you.
You are Lady Rhyall, aren't you?
Yes.
I'm very glad to meet you.
How do you do.
Yes, you'd sort of have to be, wouldn't you?
Well, why?
You're perfect type-casting.
Don't tell me you're in the film industry.
Hardly, no.
I'm an oil man.
- Oh, you're a millionaire. - As a matter of fact, I am.
Well.
Won't you sit down?
Thank you.
Why were you so sure I was a millionaire?
Nearly all the Americans I meet seem to be.
Especially the oily ones.
I hoped you'd be impressed.
As a matter of fact, I am. Just a little.
Have you been a millionaire for quite some time?
I guess I have at that.
Tell me.
Why do you think I'm type-casting?
Oh well.
Well you're cool and elegant.
You're at ease.
And...
And what?
And very lovely.
I suppose you're a millionaire because you insist upon value for money.
I must say you are getting your half-crown's worth, aren't you?
I'm an American, I say what I think.
And hesitate before you say it.
A Frenchman would never have hesitated.
And an Englishman?
Ooh, an Englishman would never have said it.
You mean an Englishman would never tell a married woman she was lovely?
Oh, no, I don't mean that. It's just that he usually tells the husband first.
What's the point in that?
Because he knows the husband will tell the wife.
"Do you know what old George said to me last night, my dear?
He said he thought you looked lovely."
I said very lovely.
And so the
wife is intrigued and
the next time she's alone with George she sees to it that he tells her himself.
It's an oblique approach but not a bad one, and
very effective.
So, I understand.
I don't know your husband.
And my name is not George, it's Charles.
What's yours?
Hilary.
Hilary?
That's a boy's name. You don't look like a boy to me.
Charlies what?
Delacro, D-E-L-A-C-R-O.
- Oh, sounds French. - It is, was.
Used to be Delacroix, C-R-O-I-X.
But...
We Americans are a simple, straightforward people.
We see an X on the end of a name and we pronounce it.
My grandfather thought that Dela-Quacks
sounded like a duck laying an egg,
so we cut it off.
The X, I mean.
He was born in France.
In Tours.
Oh now, isn't that odd.
I had a French grandfather and he was born in Turenne,
perhaps were cousins?
Oh, I doubt that.
Your grandfather was probably a nobleman. Mine was a clockmaker.
And now you're a millionaire, and I'm a mushroom grower.
Oh well, there you are. That's the way the world wags.
Well, it's...
it's a little early to offer you a cup of tea.
Would you like a drink, or something?
I don't really want one, but
accepting a drink means that I'm now your guest,
and not just an intruder,
then, by all means.
Perhaps you'd like to help yourself.
Alright, thank you.
I imagine it's something you're quite used to.
Helping yourself, I mean.
Was that a crack or a compliment?
Which do you think it is?
In my country I'd probably consider it a compliment.
Here it's probably a crack.
And if you don't mind my saying so, I think that's a pity.
I'm not really in a position to argue.
The relative value of mushrooms and oil in the world market today
being so unfairly what it is.
And don't try and turn the tables on me.
I apologize.
It's only that some of the customs of this country I find more unusual than others.
- Having no ice in my drink of course... - Oh blast!
- I can make you some in 2 minutes. - I really don't mind, honestly.
I don't complain until it actually burns my tongue.
I'm really terribly sorry.
Would you
like me to fix you a drink?
Fix?
You sound as if you're going to drug me or something.
Sometimes I'm convinced that the
greatest barrier between our two countries
is the bond of a common language.
Could I...
May I pour you out a drink?
No, thank you.
Why do you grow mushrooms?
To make omelettes?
No!
To make money.
Oh, and do you?
Oh yes. It's rather fun, isn't it?
Making money, I mean.
Where do you live?
I've got a home on Long Island, but I'm only there about 3 months out of the year.
Oh there you go calling a house a home again.
Can't be much of a home if you only spend 3 months out of every year in it.
I guess you're right.
And you're divorced.
Yes, I am.
If I weren't, I suppose I'd have a home instead of a house.
Why were you so sure that I was divorced?
You're the perfect type-casting.
I'll bet you go to psychiatrists and you take tranquilizers
and you're frightened of ulcers and you eat to many salads.
Lady Rhyall's report of the social activities of the American male.
You subscribe to the Reader's Digest
and you belong to the Racquet Club and you worked your way through college,
or did you win a football scholarship?
No, I worked my way through college. As a crooner, believe it or not.
- And played halfback on the football team. / - Correct.
- And were in the Marines during the war. / - No.
Army Air Corps.
Finished up a one-star General.
You're wrong again. I was a Colonel. Anything else?
Yes, you always call your girlfriends either sugar or honey.
Now when is it my turn to be rude to you?
And you wouldn't feel properly dressed unless
you had a camera slung around your neck.
You mean like a
Englishman and his umbrella?
That is our climate.
You don't mean to tell me that those things are actually constructed to unroll
I though they were just for
hailing taxis.
Oh no, we unroll them at all sporting events and most weddings.
Sporting events.
Alright. I'll be fair.
It's your turn now.
To be rude to me, I mean.
Go on. Go ahead.
Well,
let me see.
I'd say you were an only child.
Very spoiled.
You were called Hilary because your mother and father were disappointed
that you were not a boy.
I have 3 brothers.
Ah well, they spoiled you.
They bullied me.
Teased me.
Tricked me out of my pocket money,
cut my head open, and destroyed my faith in Santa Claus.
And I simply adored them.
I was called Hilary
after someone my father hoped would leave me something in his Will, but he never did.
And you wore braces on your teeth and were considered the ugly duckling.
No.
But that didn't bother you because what you really wanted was to go up to Oxford.
No, Cambridge.
And you majored in History and finished
the Times crossword puzzle over your breakfast.
Yes, and no.
What do you mean yes and no.
Yes, I majored in History, and no I read what you call the Tabloids at breakfast.
What else do you read?
Anything from poetry to cookery books.
And being a romantic, you prefer the poetry.
I'm not a romantic, I'm a realist.
Why do you shake your head?
Because of the evidence I have before me.
What evidence do you have before you?
Your eyes.
Very prettily said.
I thought you were supposed to be rude to me.
Nope.
- A rip-roaring, grade-A, romantic. - Oh, no.
You ever come up to London?
Once a week.
Will you have lunch with me?
No, thank you.
Why not?
Because I always have a sandwich at my hairdressers.
What kind of sandwiches do you like?
Smoked salmon.
If I brought some to the hairdressers, could we have a picnic?
No, thank you.
Am I disturbing you, my lord?
Yes, you are.
I'm sorry.
Now I've forgotten how much 143 entrance tickets are.
How much are 143 half-crowns, Sellers?
I make it 17 pounds, 17 shillings, and 6-pence.
I wonder if I might have a word with you, my lord.
So do I.
So were both probably right.
Now what's the matter, Sellers?
As I told you, my lord. I haven't any work to do.
What about your novel. Why aren't you working on that?
I'm stuck badly.
Nearly tore the whole thing up last night.
Now, now, you mustn't do that. What's the trouble?
Almost certain that the basic trouble is myself.
I'm fundamentally happy and contented.
That's bad enough, of course.
But on top of that, I'm normal.
That's fatal.
You mean you prefer to be unhappy and abnormal.
Of course.
You see, I want to be a success.
And to be a success
One must indeed start off as being modern.
And like yourself, my lord, I'm not.
It means I have no feeling of insecurity or frustration.
No despair.
And that's essential.
The first essential.
And I feel perfectly contented,
really rather blameless,
and hardly resent anything at all.
You are in a pickle, aren't you?
You must of known all that
when you gave up teaching to become a writer?
You answered my advertisement for a butler
when I asked you what your qualifications were.
You said you had a degree in science.
In spite of such a ludricrous recommendation, I engaged you.
Partly because you told me you wanted to write a novel.
Luckily you turned out very well.
Now why don't you go back to your typewriter
and take another crack at it, Sellers. It might do you good.
You might feel better now.
I've got to look for something.
Some way or other, I lost my Bible.
You know by rights, you should be in the library by now.
Enjoying Portrait of a Burgermeister by van Dyck,
Lady Rhyall and Children by Naysmyth circa 1800 unfinished,
Henrietta Maria, the Wife of Charles I by Rowlandson,
and Two Mirrors by Robert Adam.
Why don't you go and look at them?
Because I'd rather look at you.
I'm not on exhibition.
May I take a picture of you?
Portrait of the 20th Century Lady of Fashion.
By Delacro.
It's not fair. I've been packing mushrooms.
Or shall we call it just...
Hilary.
I think subject unknown.
You know I shall want these pictures.
To prove that the last 20 minutes actually have happened.
I may tell myself that they haven't but the pictures will prove me wrong.
What do you mean?
You know exactly what I mean.
No I don't.
You know what they say. The camera cannot lie.
Neither it seems can you.
Not very well at least.
It's not good enough for any to avoid the truth.
Would you like me to say the truth out loud?
So that you can deny it. Will that make you feel better?
May I say it?
May I whisper it?
No, please no.
Why not? Are you frightened?
Yes, I am.
But what of, darling?
Don't call me that.
Why because it's so sudden?
You know there really ought to be some sort of warning so that you can run away.
But there wasn't any.
Just the simple thing of a man coming
through a door. Now look what's happened.
It's like that game he said to her, she said to him, and the consequences were...
What are the consequences?
None.
I'm staying at the Savoy, will you call me?
No.
Please?
No.
I shall stay in all the time in case you change your mind.
I shan't.
Women do sometimes, you know.
I shall hope. For two whole weeks, I shall hope.
Here's your half-crown back.
Now, then...
You get on back home to America.
And there's no fountain here for you to throw it in.
I shall treasure it. Always.
I think you better go.
Turn left outside this door and go along to the head of the staircase.
At the bottom of the staircase turn left again.
That will take you out to the car park.
Goodbye, Hilary.
Goodbye, Mr. Delacro. It's been nice knowing you.
Then say goodbye nicely.
Goodbye, Charles.
Goodbye, my love.
I'm not your love.
Maybe it's not goodbye, either.
Wait a minute. Don't move. Now, just stay right there.
Don't move, I want to get one more picture.
Darling, have you seen my Bible anywhere?
I'm sorry. I thought you were alone.
Isn't it by your bed?
No, it isn't. I want to read through the lessons before Sunday.
Search for it high and low.
Maddening maddening.
Perhaps Sellers knows where it is.
You're from the press, are you?
No, I'm not.
You've got a camera. You've just took a photograph.
Mr. Delacro is an American.
Oh, I see.
I thought you were from Good Housekeeping or something.
As you probably gathered, Mr. Delacro, this is my husband.
Oh, I'm very happy to meet you.
How do you do.
Now that's absurd, isn't it?
Two complete strangers meet. One pretends it's made him happy
and the other replies by inquiring how he does.
What's wrong with hello?
- What indeed. It's none committal. Hello. / - Hello.
You rang, my lord?
Yes, I did, Sellers. Have you seen my Bible anywhere?
I'm extremely sorry, my lord. I'm afraid I've got it.
I wanted to look something up.
First you borrow my Times, then you pinch my Bible.
That's democracy running amok.
I'm very sorry indeed, my lord. I'll put it back beside your bed.
Anyway, you should have a Bible of your own.
Well the one you're using, is mine, my lord.
Well know, why are we all standing about. Do sit down.
Thank you.
Tell me, are you a very keen photographer?
I get a lot of fun out of it, yes.
You must have taken some beauties of the centuries at Buckingham Palace.
As a matter of fact, I have. All in color.
Really?
The one you took right now. Was that in color?
Yes.
You must let me have one if it comes out.
Victor, don't be so old-fashioned.
Nowadays, all photographs "come out", as you call it.
You're still living in the world of the Brownie (camera from 1900).
Are you over here for some time, Mr. Delacro?
I'll be in Europe all summer, I hope.
Really?
I'm sorry. There aren't any, are there?
Are you staying nearby or are you making a quick tour of all the stately homes?
There are 400 of them now, you know.
Yes, half-crown ones, I mean.
Are there really?
Yes, here we are.
- Go on, I have some more. - Thanks, I don't smoke.
That would take you the best part of summer, wouldn't it?
If you plan to see them all.
Did you buy the booklet?
Yes, I did.
Mr. Delacro's just had a week's fishing.
He's on his way back to London.
Really? Where were you staying?
With a friend of mine at Fortingbridge, near Salisbury.
Josh Peters.
That's right.
I've known Josh all my life.
Since I was 8, anyway. We had chicken pox together.
That must be a great bond between you.
Darling, you must remember to keep this door closed.
Anybody could walk in.
You had good weather. How was the fishing?
On the whole, it was pretty fair.
There were some big fish around,
but I'm afraid your friend, Josh Peters, did a lot better than I did.
And so he should. He knows that water as well as he know his own wife.
Much prefers it, too.
Oh, Victor, don't be vulgar.
It's perfectly true, darling.
She stands 6 foot 2 in her stocking feet,
and there's always been a certain amount of doubt whether she could read and write.
You ought to be very tall by the end of the month when the mayfly hatch.
Best couple of weeks in the whole season.
As a matter of fact, I was invited. So, possibly I shall be.
There's a very good article on the Mayfly in last week's Angling Times.
Did you see it?
No, I didn't.
I wouldn't think so, would I?
Where is it, it's always there.
I suppose Sellers has it.
Look here. Why don't you stay and have a cup of tea with us.
That's very kind of you.
Darling, is there any of that Dundee cake left?
Oh, yes, yes. I think so.
Then you must stay. It's simply delicious. Do you like Dundee cake?
Very much.
Then it's all settled, then.
Then after tea, we'll take a walk around the garden.
I'll try and find that Angling Times.
You think he knew?
Oh, yes. He knew.
He knew at once.
I'm afraid that's my fault. You know you can control yourself but not that
excitement inside you, generating something into the atmosphere.
Not through you.
Through me.
Turn to the last page in that little book and read the last paragraph.
Present Earl and Countess have been married for 10 years.
They have a son in heir aged 6 and a daughter aged 9.
And were very happy.
And you're not staying for tea.
- Why not? - Because I don't want you to.
Make some excuse and say goodbye.
Now we've lost the Angling Times. It's astonishing.
There it is. Now who could've put it there?
I'll try to find that article for you.
I was just telling your wife
that I completely forgotten that I have tickets to a show tonight.
So, I'm afraid I won't be able to accept your offer of Dundee cake after all.
That is disappointing.
Can't you persuade him to change his mind, darling?
No, she's done her very best to tempt me, but I really must be going along.
Lady Rhyall, goodbye.
I hope we meet again.
Goodbye, Mr. Delacro.
Will come and see you off. Where's your car? The car park?
Yes, it is but don't bother. I'm sure I can find my way.
It's not bother at all.
And you mustn't get lost again, must you?
Come on dear.
I'm sure Mr. Delacro will forgive me.
I really do have rather a lot to do, Victor.
You take him down, would you?
Again goodbye, and thank you very much for your kindness.
Where are you staying in London?
At the Savoy.
Now that you know your way here, as they say, you must come down again.
Thank you.
What are your immediate plans?
As a matter of fact, there was some doubt about those.
But I shall be staying in London for 2 weeks anyway.
Really?
Isn't this our pleasure?
Pleasure, I hope.
Nice car you've got.
I'm trading it on a Rolls.
That's a great compliment if you prefer something English.
You seem to be quite an Anglo-phile.
There are a number of things I find attractive in this country.
And how do you rate current Anglo-American relations?
I like to think that they haven't been better since the War of Independence.
Course there's always room for improvement.
If you go straight down the driveway and turn to the left into the village.
You're on the main road to London.
Thank you.
And there's your Angling Times.
So long, be seeing you, as they say in America.
Cheerio, as you say in England.
What a nice fellow.
Didn't you think so?
Oh, I hadn't noticed really.
What did you say his name was?
Charles.
Charles Delacro. I think it was.
Good-looking, too. A pity he couldn't stay for tea.
Did you say you had rather a lot to do, darling?
Oh! Yes, yes, I have.
I must go and finish the mushrooms.
"Thou shalt not covet thy neighbors wife,
nor his ox, nor his ass, nor anything that is h..."
That's the wrong chapter, isn't it?
Darling, I'm going to eat in pajamas. Do you mind?
Darling, do you mind if I dine in pajamas?
No, of course not.
When?
What do you mean when?
When what?
When the wind changes.
What did you say?
I asked if you mind if I dined in a suit of armor.
What's the matter with you tonight?
I don't know. There's something wrong with me, I suppose.
The jealous husband who killed in defense of home and marriage was acquitted today.
And the case has now ended to the unanimous approval of press and public.
Outside the courtroom,
husband and wife were fondly reunited.
Local news.
The jealous husband who killed in defense of home and marriage was acquitted today.
Look, Mommy. Look!
Why didn't you tell me?
Tell you what, darling?
That I got odd shoes on.
Oh, I though you knew.
What do you mean you thought I knew?
I thought you were reading one of those dress articles.
You know, why not be different? If you can't be chic, be odd.
That's right, dear, tuck in the white one.
Have you finished with it, my darling?
There you are.
This is what they call a quiet weekend at home.
I want a London call, please.
Ranos, good morning.
Hold on one moment, Lady Rhyall, I'll just check to make sure.
Yes, Monsieur René can take you at nine tomorrow morning.
Nine o'clock?
Oh yes, that would be perfect.
Yes, thank you very much, goodbye.
Hello.
Hello?
Hello, this is Victor Rhyall here. Who's speaking?
Hello.
I was just down to the hairdressers.
They can only take me at 9 o'clock in the morning.
That's quite early, isn't it?
What will you do? Go up to London this evening?
Yes, I think I'll have to.
I had a feeling you'd be going into London.
Why?
I don't know, I thought it was about time your hair needed doing.
What will you do, stay with Hattie?
Yes, I suppose so.
Hadn't you better call her? Let her know?
Yes, I suppose I'd better.
There's a train at 5:12 this afternoon,
or you could catch the 6:15.
London call, please.
Number 2656.
Perhaps you'd like to dine early and go off later.
No, the 5:12 will be fine.
Hattie's line is sure to be busy. It always is.
Hold the line!
Hattie, darling. What are you doing?
I'll call you right back.
Who's calling?
Hil, darling.
I've just flooded the bathroom floor. I'll call you back in 10 minutes.
Are you at home?
Ah, Mr. Delacro, I've made inquiries about the latest hairdressers.
There's a page boy on his way up to you now
with the names, addresses, and telephone numbers of the best ones.
Can you tell me if Lady Rhyall has an appointment with you?
I'm sorry, sir. Lady Rhyall is not a client of ours.
No, sir. Quite sure, sir.
Yes, sir. She has.
London train.
There you are, darling.
And here's your ticket.
Don't lose it and don't speak to strangers.
Enjoy yourself and give my love to Hattie.
I'll be back tomorrow evening.
I'll expect you when I see you.
Stand away, please.
Stand away.
I beg your pardon. Didn't you have a French grandfather?
Oh, hello Mr. Delacro.
How long are you going to be in London?
I don't know.
Long enough to have lunch with me.
I don't know.
Good. Where should we go?
I don't know.
You just don't know anything at all, do you?
- I'm afraid I... - Oh, no!
There are many surprises.
- I'm terribly sorry, it's my fault. - So sorry.
Better take you out and get you a collar and a leash.
I wonder if I ever would have phoned you.
Now I'll never know. Will I?
If you hadn't behaved like an amateur detective, you would've found out.
You know, I think we ought to go.
May I have the bill, please?
Will you marry me?
No.
Will you have dinner with me?
Yes.
What a happy day.
Thank you, Charles.
And what shall we do tomorrow?
It doesn't really matter, does it?
We've been surrounded by people all day long.
Let's try to avoid them from now on.
Tell Mrs. Bankshop that if she ever gives me mushrooms to eat again, out she goes.
Very good, my lord.
Dreadful things. I scrubbed my hands all night and couldn't get rid of the smell.
Even her ladyship wears gloves, my lord.
Will she be returning this evening?
I don't think so, Sellers. I'll just dine on the tray.
That's such a maddening bird.
It's a popular expression, isn't it, my lord?
He's gone cuckoo.
Who's gone cuckoo?
No one, my lord.
You said it was a maddening bird.
And I mentioned that's how the expression originated.
Oh, I see.
His call always sounds to me like a sort of kreed-a-kur, my lord.
Kreed-a-kur?
Is that from your novel?
We all applaud to him so much because he gives
such a wonderful welcome when he first arrives.
Because he gives such a wonderful welcome when he first arrives,
articles about him and letters in the newspapers and so on.
But from then on, everybody simply hates him.
No, I don't blame them.
Having a failure after a good press must be very discouraging.
Perhaps I'm looking at it more from a novelist's point of view, my lord.
That's the latter. Now, I want a drink and a bath.
How's the time? Are you alright for the train?
Nearly a quarter to 6.
Better hurry and get yourself a glass, too, for you on the way back.
Take it out of the mushroom account.
Hello, Hattie. What are you doing here?
Hello, darling. How are you?
Splendid, thanks. How are you?
Never better.
Pleased to see me?
Not very.
Surprised to see me?
Not very.
And I payed half a crown to come in halfway specially.
No you didn't.
I call it a swindle. What do you mean I didn't?
You came in that way
because you knew that just about a week ago today someone else came in that way,
and you thought what fun it would be to do the same.
Darling, I love you more and more everytime I see you.
That's good.
But you're only half right.
If I come in the normal way you
would have told Sellers to say that you had gone out or abroad or something.
That's right.
Such a pity.
Our love for each other is founded on mutual distrust.
Help me out with my coat. Would you, darling?
What? With my foot?
No.
What makes you think I love you?
You did once upon a time. I think you even put it in writing.
Well, then. Here, do something with that.
I suppose you want a drink.
I'd like some champagne, please.
I haven't any, and if I had some I doubt if I'd give it to you.
I know how you must be feeling, darling. But you mustn't get bitter.
Whiskey or gin? Or there's some cooking sherry in the kitchen?
Gin, please.
Tonic, soda, ginger ale, or water?
Pink!
And would you mind burning the Angustura?
Well, no I can't make those things. Besides, I don't have any matches.
Oh, in my bag.
Ooh, wait a minute.
Here.
Savoy?
Have you been there recently?
Not recently. No.
- I expect you got them from Hilary. - I expect I did.
You've seen much of her?
No. Considering she's been staying with me. Not very much. No.
I had the other half of a grapefruit with her yesterday morning.
I expect you to send her love but she didn't know I was coming.
Do you know it only took me 1 hour and 20 minutes, door to door?
On your broomstick?
Here.
Oh. Come on. Give me those things.
Well, good luck.
You say that as if you think I'm going to need it.
Don't we all?
Can't do a blasted thing without good luck.
You need it from the moment you get out in the morning,
til the moment you get back in at night.
Particularly when you get back in again at night.
You are a wanton.
What else?
Everything's luck.
Look at the lousy luck I had the day I introduced you to Hilary at the races.
Won the daily double and lost you.
And if you'd married me instead of Hilary,
I wouldn't have married that horrid, little man I did marry.
Or spend all that money divorcing him.
Wasn't much of a daily double, either.
Why did you come down here?
Well, two reasons.
What are they?
Oh, firstly I'm very fond of Hilary.
Secondly?
I'm very fond of you.
And I thought you might need cheering up, my sweet.
Now come on, Hattie. Be honest.
- What was the real reason? - I do hate it when people say be honest.
It puts one at such a disadvantage.
And you must know as well as I do
that saying it to me is a sheer waste of breath.
It was curiousity, wasn't it?
You wanted to see how I reacted to my wife falling in love with another man.
He's not just another man, darling. He's a millionaire!
I'll tell you how I've reacted. I'm very annoyed.
I'm very annoyed,
very miserable,
very at a lose, and
very lonely.
WeWhy didn't you try and stop her from going to London?
Because I'm not a fool.
I must confess. I never thought you were before but...
Wouldn't it have been safer if she hadn't seen him again?
From my point of view, it was essential that she did see him again.
If she hadn't, I would have been the obstacle preventing her from seeing him.
And that would have damaged our relationship.
Even at the risk of encouraging theirs, that's the last thing I want to do.
Have you met Mr. Delacro?
Now, that man's going to crop up into conversation quite a lot, you know.
Don't you think we ought to call him Charles?
Is that usual?
Nowadays surely it must be.
Tell me, have you met him?
Darling, I haven't met an unmarried millionaire for years.
I'd be so over excited if I did. I'd probably curtsy.
Did Hilary talk to you much about him?
The little I've seen of her. All the time.
Except when she was talking about you.
What did she say?
She loved you.
But was in love with him.
Madly.
Yes, there's a difference, isn't there?
I always knew no good would come of my opening this house to the public.
Has she been with him all the time?
I imagine so.
Astonishing, isn't it?
Here's a reasonable, decent sort of man
who'd no more think of stealing my cuff links than he would of taking my umbrella.
Yet he can pay half a crown at the door,
walk into my house, and without disturbing his conscience in anyway,
come up with the endeavor to steal my wife.
By the same token, Hilary wouldn't cheat at cards.
There's no honor where there's sex.
You are happy to say.
Look up.
If you give me some gin, I'll give you some advice.
I don't believe in something for nothing.
Alright, you want all that silly bonfire business again?
- Yes, please. / - I knew you would. What a nuisance you are.
Alright, go on, go on, give me some advice.
Like most men who've had success with women,
you flatter yourself you understand them.
Don't be a mug, my sweet. You haven't a clue.
Hilary's paramount emotion at the...
What a lovely word, paramount. I don't think I've ever used it before.
- Then don't do it again. - Her paramount emotion at the moment,
is neither her passion for Charles nor her love for you.
It's a feeling of complete bewilderment that her values, her standards, her
whole existence could be cockeyed in half an hour.
When she gets home, remember that and forget everything else.
Oh, naturally. Clap hands and jump for joy.
If you want her back, that's the way to play it.
That bird is a little too emphatic, isn't he?
What did Shakespeare? A cuckoo then on every tree mocks married men.
Yes, yes, yes. Here.
Must we go through that again.
Wait a minute.
Here, give me a shoe.
It's the only way.
Have you been faithful to Hilary all these years?
Yes, I have.
That's beside the point.
It's not beside the point, it is the point.
A very sharp one, too.
What's sauce for the goose. Remember?
- Rubbish the whole fundamental... - Don't sit on my hat, darling.
I know, I know.
The fundamental difference between men and women,
is that what's sauce for the goose is not sauce for the gander.
That's why women wear wedding rings and men don't.
First proud, now arrogant.
And exceedingly immoral.
Oh, come, come.
If Hilary's prepared to give up Charles, I think you should be bloody grateful.
And she's seems to me pretty determined on coming back here,
and continuing to be the good, little wife and perfect mother.
With the aching heart.
Yes, but he's giving her a mink coat which should stop the ache a little bit.
He's done what?
He's given her a mink coat.
Blast him. I hope he rots in Hell.
Oh, it's a wild mink. An absolute beauty.
And how's the good, little mother going to explain that away?
Poor sweet. She was rather worried about that.
But I expect she'll think of something.
I wanted to give her a mink coat ever since we were married.
And by next Christmas, I could've just about done it.
I ought to shoot him.
I do think we should try and avoid bloodshed, darling.
It's a little old-fashioned.
It's time it was brought up to date.
How dare she come back here flaunting a mink coat
and pretending she's paid for it with money she won betting on the horses.
I'm sure she'll think of something better than that.
And you couldn't expect her not to take it. Could you, darling?
Not wild mink, now, could you?
I mean apart from it being insured for 3,000 pounds.
3,000 pounds?
Yes dear, 3,000 pounds.
I'm sure it's got a sentimental value as well.
I take it you're staying the weekend.
Did you bring a bag?
When you're addressing me, I prefer the word suitcase.
Now.
What are you going to do with me until Hilary arrives tomorrow?
Play Scrabble?
Then you can spell, can you?
If that's what you like.
No, it's not.
I'd like a good dinner with a bottle of something very expensive,
and preferably fizzy.
Then I'll take you over the the Horse & Groom. It's not far and it's not bad.
How delicious.
I shall enjoy having a gorgeous dinner with you again, darling.
Will there be soft lighting, do you think?
Now Hattie, don't be outrageous.
There's that bird again.
You know, I think it's flown here straight from the Savoy.
Just get your silly hat and come on, let's change.
Get my shoes, will you, darling?
Anyway, the fact remains that my world goes round only because of her.
She's the focal point of my existence.
Everything I've done or accomplished.
There's nothing much, I dare say, that hasn't been for her or on account of her.
We've been friends as well as lovers.
And if I sing in my bath, it's because I know I'm going to have breakfast with her.
Without her I don't say I would be lost, but
it certainly wouldn't be very clear in my mind which way to turn.
Well, tell her that. Discuss the situation.
Talk the whole thing over.
It's fatal, Hattie.
The spoken word, like the last opportunity, doesn't come back.
When a situation like this is admitted out loud,
it means that it's been accepted, and if it's accepted it's got to be discussed.
Everytime you discuss it, you get further apart
until in the end you're so far away from eachother you have to shout.
And the whole thing becomes hopeless.
She knows that as well as I do.
Well then, do what I say. Just be gentle and kind and understanding.
Thank you, Hattie. I will if I can.
But first,
I've got to get Mister
bloody Delacro out of her heart, out of her mind, and out of the country.
And how do you propose to do that?
I don't know. I wish I did.
All I know is that she'll turn up tomorrow as bright as a button.
With her suitcase in one hand and her sacrifice in the other.
And she'll be coming back not for me,
But because of the children.
As far as I'm concerned that's insufficient reason.
I want her back because she wants to come back to me.
Or not at all?
Yes, I think that's right.
Or not at all.
That's selfish, short-sighted, and very stupid.
Perhaps, but I know my limitations.
I couldn't live with Hilary watching her longing for someone else.
I couldn't face the humiliation of the dressing room.
I couldn't stand a polite,
second best, forlorn sort of life,
patiently waiting the dawn of indifference.
Not for me, Hattie. Thank you very much. Not for me.
Besides...
Besides what?
She might come back here,
eat her heart out for a while, and then run off again.
That well-known little note
that she couldn't stand it any longer and any ticket to romantic places and...
The other man.
There's no guarantee that won't happen.
Then you'd marry me at last and we'd live happily ever after.
No, if I'm going to preserve our marriage,
and I don't mean a patched up bargain for the sake of the children,
then something's got to be done.
And very soon.
Oh, come on, let's go.
Waiter!
Give me the bill, would you please?
You're not going to drink that?
Apparently not.
I have a horrible feeling you're plotting something not to do with me.
- Which couldn't be more disappointing. - I've just got a horrible feeling.
I'm thirsty.
Make one of those pink things and burn the angusdura.
Yeah, well I haven't got any matches.
Here.
Temple Bar 4343, please.
In London.
But that's the Savoy!
Easy number to remember, isn't it?
What are you going to do?
I'm going to talk to Charles Delacro if I can.
If he's not there I'll leave a message.
What sort of message.
An invitation.
Hello?
Is that the Savoy?
I want to speak to Charles Delacro, please.
No, no.
Da.
D. Delacro. That's right.
This is Rock Hudson calling.
Yeah. Thanks a lot.
That's the only way you can get service out of telephone operators these days.
Hello!
Is this Charles Delacro.
Yes. Speaking. Who's there?
This is Victor Rhyall.
Victor.
How are you?
Well, I'm just fine.
I'm must apologize for giving you such short notice,
but my wife and I wondered if you cared to come down for the weekend.
How dare he!
Why, yes. I think I'd like that very much.
You must be out of your mind!
Shutup and go and sit down.
Oh, that's splendid. My wife would be delighted.
It'll be very quiet I'm afraid.
Just ourselves and a rather boring friend of Hilary's who drinks gin all day.
What was that?
It must've been some interference on the line.
Yes. I'll look forward to that.
There is interference on the line.
It's an electrical disturbance, I guess.
Now, bring a rod and we'll frighten some fish.
Alright.
About what time?
Oh, any time after lunch.
Fine.
Oh, just a second. I've just had a thought.
My wife is coming down tomorrow.
Has she been away?
Yes, she's been in London all week.
Has she really?
- I wonder if you'd be very kind and give her a lift. / - Sure. I'd be delighted.
- That is good of you. - Not at all. I welcome it.
Then may I tell her to get in touch with you at the Savoy?
I wish you would.
It would be a pleasure.
- Until tomorrow. - Until tomorrow.
You hurt me just then.
- He must be barking mad! - You must be barking mad!
- He's not barking mad. - I'm not barking mad.
- That gives him another 48 h with her. - That gives me another 48 h with you.
- He thought of that before he accepted. - I thought of that before I accepted.
I think the whole thing will be rather fun.
The whole thing's going to be absolute torture.
Hello! How are you?
Never better. Thank you.
I see you've gotten in touch with each other. How nice.
I've missed you terribly, darling.
But your letters were such a help.
You know she wrote me twice a day?
Did she really?
Oh, Hattie.
Hattie, this is Charles Delacro.
No one calls her anything but Hattie except at her bank
where they call her Mrs. Durant.
How do you do Mr. Delacro?
- I've heard such a lot about you. - How do you do?
Oh, Hil, darling.
Hello, darling.
- Were you warm enough without your coat, dear? / - Yes. Thank you, darling.
Well, come on in.
This is the stage door so you won't have to pay a half-crown at the box office.
If were having traffic then we'd better get cracking.
- How long will it take you to change? - About 5 minutes.
Good. I'll show you to your room.
Oh, Sellers. Bring Mr. Delacro's bags as soon as you can.
Yes, my lord.
Oh, and Sellers.
Tell Mrs. Bankshop to help open a few of the bugged rooms for this evening.
Very good, my lord.
Darling, I'd thought we'd splurge and dress up for our visitor tonight.
We can afford that once in a while, can't we?
Yes!
Cuckoo!
Well, come on.
Nice of you to invite me down here this weekend.
I'm enjoying it.
Oh, I'm glad you like it.
Beautiful place you have. I envy you.
- You ought to have one of your own. - Yeah, I've been thinking about it.
You fish here often?
Yes. I know these waters as well as I know my own wife.
I seem to have said that before.
Yes, you did About Josh Peters.
You said he much prefered it, too.
Oh, yes, yes. but his wife's so tall, and rather stupid.
What kind of line do you use?
It's an American line. I've been using it all my life.
Had good luck with it?
Not too bad. Of course, one gets away now and then.
I hate that.
Well, now.
The winds a little tricky on this side.
So I suggest, as you're the guest, you'd better fish over there.
Oh, thanks.
You're perfectly welcome.
Bear to your left.
How's that?
I said, bear to your left.
About here?
That's right.
Right?
Whoop!
Oh, that's very funny.
If I'd known he was going to do that I'd put a hole in his waders.
What's that?
I said, I hope you don't have a hole in your waders!
Oh, no.
- Dry as a bone. - I beg your pardon?
I said, dry as a bone!
He's not only stupid, he's deaf.
He's not only deaf, he's stupid.
Oh, not there.
Mind the deep hole.
Sorry. I can't hear you.
I said, mind the deep...! Just a moment, I'll come over there.
What were you tring to tell me?
Mind the deep hole.
What on Earth do you imagine they're talking about?
- Fish. - Oh, not still.
From a woman's point of view,
the amount of time that men spend talking about fish is quite humiliating.
But perhaps on this occassion, we should be rather grateful.
I still don't think we should've left them alone together.
Nonsense, darling. They're behaving like positive buddies.
I don't trust Victor when he's genial.
I don't trust him, period.
He's a brute, isn't he?
By the way,
What did you and Victor do last night?
We had a delicious dinner at the Horse & Groom, and then we came back here
and played Scrabble!
I never quite trust you with Victor. Why didn't you dine here?
Victor said he felt like going out.
Oh he did?
What time did you go to bed?
About half past 12, I think.
Did Victor drink much?
Very little.
As far as I remember.
But you can't play Scrabble! Not with grown-up people.
I know how to cheat at it.
Where did you dine, darling?
The White Tower.
Oh, how gorgeous!
And what time did you go to bed?
Nice and early.
That was a splendid one of Victor's, wasn't it?
What was?
His last turn before dinner when you just put
fidelity, and he added I-N in front of it.
I think that put us in the lead, didn't it? Where's the score?
Stupid board game!
Yes darling. I quite agree. Madly boring.
Come on. Give me a hand.
We can say that Sellers knocked it over putting down the coffee plate.
I think it was simply wonderful
of you not to have kicked it all over the room when you actually did it.
Tremendous self-control it must have been. I was really filled with admiration.
Is that why you giggled?
That was pure hysteria.
You must admit it was quite a moment, though. I didn't dare look at Charles.
But what are we going to do with the rest of the Evening?
Unless there's a panel of bachelors discussing marriage and divorce.
I suppose it would be less embarassing to watch television.
There you are, my lady.
I beg your pardon, I couldn't understand where the voices were coming from.
- Just put the coffee there, would you please, Sellers? / - Very good, my lady.
Let me help you pick up these pieces, my lady.
Thank you. Yes, there are quite a few there, I think.
What are you laughing at?
I beg your pardon, my lady. I really couldn't help it.
These children, they were playing bears.
Who's been eating my porridge?
And who's been sleeping in my...
That'll be all. Thank you, Sellers.
Very good.
- Oh, Sellers. - My lady?
Did you notice a very battered looking old suitcase in Mr. Delacro's car?
Yes, I put it in his room.
Oh, no, no. That one's mine.
Oh, then I'll change it over. Have you got the key for it?
No, I haven't. But don't worry about that. Just put it in my room.
Very well, my lady.
I'm sorry I was bitty just now.
I'm sorry, too.
Oh, Hattie.
What a
thing to happen, isn't it?
Did Victor talk to you about Charles last night?
Oh, yes. Of course he did.
He was rather rude about him.
Why? What did he say?
He said,
in order to commemorate the number of liberties
Americans have taken in this country in the last 15 years,
it was high time that England had a Statue of Liberty of their own.
Or did he say Libertine?
I can't remember.
Dreary, pompous Englishman.
What else did he say? He must've said something else. Wasn't he upset?
Oh, yes. He was upset.
I asked him if he thought there was a possibility
of you running away with Charles.
And what did he say?
He said, he thought it would be a pity.
A pity!
What does he mean a pity?
And that if you did,
he wouldn't accept responsibility for either the mushrooms or Ms. Mathews.
I must warn you about our coffee.
You can't tell me anything about English coffee, man.
I know the lot.
But you haven't tasted ours yet.
We flavor it with Vinseed oil and serve it at room temperature.
Now quick, before they come back. Tell me what you've done about the mink.
You can't possibly give that up. That would be a heartbreak you could never mend.
Where is it?
It's here.
You didn't breath a word of about that to Victor, did you?
Oh, darling. What do you take me for?
- It's here, is it? - Yes, I brought it down.
What are you going to say?
I've had rather a brain wave. And I...
So I went to Harrod's and I bought a sponge.
Hattie dear, let me give you a little kibble.
Or did you finish the bottle after lunch?
Now don't talk like that!
You were so blinking mean with it, I've decided to buy you some bigger glasses.
What you all been talkin' about. Fish?
No. Women.
- Oh, fancy that. - No, no.
Actually we were talking about ballerinas
which is not quite the same thing, Mrs. Durant.
Would you do me a great favor?
Certainly.
Never call me by that name.
Why not?
Here you are Mrs. Durant.
The unexpended portion of a day's ration.
And what for you Hilary? Similar? As they say in all the smart bars?
Well, you haven't got anything else. Have you?
Please not in front of the millionaire.
As a matter of fact, I've a very good brandy,
but I'm saving that for Charles and myself.
I thought you were going to save it for Christmas.
I'll have a brandy, please.
Brandy, Charles?
Yes, thank you.
- Here's your coffee, darling. - Thank you, darling.
No, not you.
I beg your pardon, I thought you said "darling".
So I did.
- Here's yours. - Thank you, darling.
That is confusing, isn't it? The next time I shall bring my own.
- Victor? - Yes, dear?
Your coffee.
Thank you, darling.
What does that mean?
"Nothing is said that hasn't been said before."
I just said, "thank you, darling" three times.
Oh, how dull.
In medical books, they always use Latin for the interesting bits.
Oh, Hattie!
But they do, darling.
Don't you remember in the one I borrowed from you it was all...
All very frustrating for you.
Oh, thank you, dear.
Aren't we going to finish our Scrabble?
I'm terribly sorry.
I'm afraid Sellers knocked the whole thing over when he brought in the coffee.
Thank you, darling.
What are you thanking me for?
It's a habit I've acquired. Each time you say, "coffee" I say,
"thank you, darling".
Here are two more Scrabble letters.
There's O and K.
OK.
Must be a good omen, hmm?
Oh, yes. Of course it must be.
Try them the other way around.
KO.
Knocked out.
I suppose that's an omen, too.
Never can tell, can you?
You mean...
Which way around things are going to happen?
Yes, or what to put first and what to place second.
If we knew that, we'd all be a lot happier.
Don't you agree?
Yes, but as a general rule I'd say place yourself first, the other fella second.
Supposing the other fella disputes your arrangement?
Then you enter into competition.
And the race is to the swift and the battle to the strong, right?
- Sure. - I'm not at all sure.
In theory, I must disagree with you.
However, in practice you may well be right.
A little primitive, but what's wrong with that?
- What's primitive? - You are, dear.
Oh, am I really?
Or was he being insulting?
On the contrary. I'd say he was paying a compliment.
He says that because he is, too.
Is Hilary primitive?
I'm beginning to wonder.
And what are you?
The other day Sellers told me I was traditional.
What's traditional?
Now here you are, Charles.
A man after your own heart.
No? Who was he?
He was my great great grandfather.
- Say, he's got a green coat on just like yours. / - Yes, that's right.
That's traditional.
He ruined two men gambling one evening.
And killed another one at 5 o'clock the following morning.
He was a fellow of a royal society, too.
Must have been quite a fella.
Why'd he kill the third guy? Didn't pay up?
No, no, no. It was an affair of the heart.
Yes, a woman.
Gentlemen didn't fight over men in those days.
How'd it happen?
He discovered that his wife
was about to run away with a wealthy, young land owner from South Carolina.
Beautiful country there, I believe, but
you're not from the South yourself, are you?
No, I'm from New York State.
Did they hang him?
No, it was a duel. Pistols. Somewhere near Shepherd's Bush.
What happened to the lady?
- My great great grandmother? - Yeah.
She had several more children.
Mostly by my great great grandfather.
And they lived happily ever after.
What a fascinating story. Why have you never told it to me before?
Perhaps I shouldn't have even mentioned it now, darling.
You know I've always done my best to
shield you from the unpleasant side of life.
- There she is. Lovely, don't you think? - Yes, she was.
Her hair.
Let me see that.
That's my great great grandmother!
- No, darling, it isn't. - Yes, of course it is.
No, of course it isn't dear.
Wait a minute, we sold your grandmother to go to Spain last year.
What are you ta...
I was only saying that if the morals of this century get any worse,
it might be a good thing to reintroduce dueling.
Make it legal, I mean.
How would that help?
It cut the divorce rate in half.
It might cut the husbands in half, too. Then what would we do for alimony.
Oh. Hattie, you'd be a widow and you'd get the lot.
Then it would be a marvelous idea.
-Come on. Let's go on upstairs. -Can't you do something about that, Victor?
I've been wondering. Come alone Charles.
Since the government insists that nuclear weapons
are a deterrent against war.
Surely they'd accept dueling as a deterrent against divorce.
Might get a bill through the house someday on that basis. Course it would all depend.
On whether the big shots were good shots.
- More kibble, Hattie - Yes, please.
There.
I did warn you about Hattie. Didn't I Charles?
Well, darling. You haven't told me what you did in London this week.
Did you have fun.
Yes. Thank you.
What did you do?
You know. The usual things one does in London.
That reminds me.
Of what?
Now Victor, I do hope you're not going to be stuffy and say I've been dishonest.
Stuffy? Now what have you done?
Well...
One morning,
I found a cloak room tacket for a tixie in a suitcase.
Oh, no! I mean I...
I found a cloak room ticket for a suitcase in a taxi.
Oh, that's what you did.
Yes, I did.
So you gave it to the driver.
No Victor. I'm afraid I didn't.
You don't mean to tell me you went and got it out.
Yes, I did.
But that's disgraceful.
Where was it?
Victoria's Station, Victor. And I thought that was a sort of omen.
It had been there for absolutely ages,
and there was a great deal of money to pay on it.
So I thought perhaps the person has died or something.
Or it might have been stolen property. The thief got windy and dumped it.
Yes.
Good lord, there wasn't a body in it was there?
I don't know.
What do you mean, you don't know?
I haven't opened it yet. It was locked and none of my keys would fit.
Charles, do you hear this astounding confession?
I'm trying not to.
That's very good of you. I appreciate it.
Hilary, I'm shocked at you.
Short-changing the public by selling old mushrooms as fresh, that's one thing,
but you've never done anything criminal before.
Oh, Victor, it wasn't criminal.
I found the ticket. I didn't steal it.
Yes, but the fact remains. You're in possession of someone else's property.
What should we do?
Obviously we ought to return it.
But we can't do that without getting involved with officials.
Possibly even the police and the newspapers.
What's the point of returning it now?
You'd never get it back to the proper owner.
Anyway, you shouldn't have been so silly as to lose the ticket.
Yes, it would only end up as lost property, I suppose.
So, perhaps the first thing to do is to find out what's inside it.
Let's hope it's nothing of value.
Where is it, darling?
It's in my room.
I'll get my keys and see if they're any good. I'll tell Sellers to bring it here.
I must say, I think it's all rather exciting.
Oh really, Hattie.
You talk as if Hilary had one a bet on the horses.
- Oh, it the mink. Of course! - Yes.
Darling, what a perfectly brilliant idea.
Oh, Hattie, I feel so awful. I am so absolutely hopeless at lying.
You're not doing so badly, dear.
Hattie.
Why don't you run along and powder your nose.
I want to talk to Hilary for a moment,
and if you see Victor, you just keep him away as long as possible.
You mustn't be upset, my sweet.
It's all so beautifully romantic, and I have no part in it.
It makes me feel like the president of the Lonely Hearts.
Come here.
No, and you stay where you are.
Why?
Cause I can't think clearly when I'm near you.
What do you mean?
You know exactly what I mean.
You remember saying that to me?
In there?
I just can't stand this anymore.
I know it's my fault. I insisted on coming down here, but...
Well, now I know that he knows.
And he knows that I know he knows.
Hattie knows.
We all know we all know.
like a top secret that everybody knows. Like the day before D-day.
Nuts to the top secret.
What do you mean?
I'm going to talk to him.
Oh no! You can't! You promised!
I'm thinking of breaking that promise.
Oh Charles, darling. You must think of me.
-I haven't thought of anything else sin... -Now stay where you are.
Now listen.
Victor knows all about it. Doesn't he?
Does he seems to be upset? Does he seem to be jealous?
Does he seem to care, one way or another?
Well...
Of course he cares. He's just not a very jealous person. That's all.
In his position I think he should be jealous. I just don't think he cares.
Yes, he ought to be a little bit jealous. Shouldn't he?
You know,
Hattie asked him if he considered the possibility of my running away with you,
and do you know what he said?
What?
He said, he thought it would be a pity.
A pity!
There you are.
You suppose for one moment if he actually cared
that he would've invited me down here? Now really.
Not unless he's a lunatic.
Oh no, he's not a lunatic.
Maybe it's just his way of saying,
Alright, I understand.
You don't have to
talk about it or discuss it.
Just as long as you stay here with me.
That's all.
You honestly believe that?
Darling, I'm in such a muddle I don't know what I believe.
I know what I believe.
I believe that you love me and that I can make you happy.
Without upsetting Victor too much, you could get a divorce and marry me.
Perhaps you don't understand Englishmen very well.
Well, who does?
Englishwomen.
Darling, were wasting time.
Then kiss me.
- From here? How can I? - Then come round here.
- But you just told me not to. - I've changed my mind.
Alright then, does that mean you'll marry me?
No, no, Charles. Charles, don't you see?
The moment you go to bed, I'm going to talk to him.
He may guess what you're going to say and
try to head you have by going to bed himself.
I can fix it so that he can't, you know.
If everything works out the way I think it will,
I'll stay here tonight and we can all discuss it tomorrow morning.
If Victor insists on being difficult,
I'll just go back to London,
cancel all my plans, and arrange to stay in England all Summer long.
Oh, you're so beautifully determined.
No wonder I'm in love with you.
Oh Hilary, I could give you such a lovely life.
I was having quite a lovely life until you came into it.
I think I'm going out of my mind.
Wouldn't that be wonderful?
Just to go out of your mind and walk away.
And somebody'd park it for me,
and when you've gone away and I'm in a fit state to drive it again,
I could go and collect it.
Come inside. Sellers is bringing it here now.
One of these should open it.
Yes. Hattie says she's tired, darling.
I expect you are, too, after your week in London.
It wasn't a week. It was four days.
Well Charles, if they're going to leave us and go to bed.
I thought you and I would have a game of billiards.
It's early, yet, would you like to?
Yes, I would, but I'm afraid I don't know your English game.
I'm not sure how to very clearly, but we can make it up as we go along.
Perhaps Charles doesn't want to play. Why don't we all make it an early night.
No, no, I'd like to play.
Sure.
Thank you, Sellers. Bring it here.
That looks heavy, doesn't it?
Heavy?
Try one of those, Sellers.
You couldn't really get a body in there, could you?
Not unless it was cut up, of course.
- Now Hattie, don't be disgusting. - Alright then, dismembered.
That's even worse.
I expect that's why they always use it in the newspapers.
Sellers! Try it over there, it might be easier for you.
Before we open it. In case it's something gorgeous, who's going to get it.
Shouldn't we draw lots or something?
Finder's Keeper's.
Maybe it's like Pandora's box.
You shouldn't open it at all.
Ah, got it!
Finder's Keeper's, darling.
Or perhaps we should draw lots for it.
Let me see. Anything else, Sellers?
You don't call that side that spin, do you?
You call it putting English on the ball.
I suppose Englishmen deserve it. Don't you agree?
No, I'm not so sure that I do.
We don't seem to see eye-to-eye about anything.
The only reason you refuse to fight a duel with me,
is because you think it's too unconventional.
It's not you know.
It's been accepted in every other century since David and Goliath.
Yes, but in the twentieth century, it's not only unconventional, it's unheard of.
Nonsense, it goes on all the time.
What's the Cold War but a duel.
The two-party political system.
Competitive enterprise, rival firms, human relationships,
the Davis Cup, they're all forms of dueling.
Even fishing.
A 20 pound salmon on the end of your line,
and you know as well as I do you're in for a hell of a duel.
But you're asking me to accept to kill you. I find that monstruous.
You're asking me to give up my wife to you.
I find that monstruous.
And I refuse to discuss or consider a divorce,
until you've accepted my challenge and fought a duel with me.
Why?
Because I'm prepared to defend my...
Don't worry, I'm not going to say my honor.
Something to me more important than that.
I'm prepared to defend my home
and my happiness.
And the duel, although admittedly a little dramatic,
seems to be the most satisfactory and decisive way of setting about it.
Some more brandy?
No, thanks.
Well...
Supposing I just refuse.
Then it would be known to Hilary that I challenged you,
and leave it to you to explain why you didn't accept.
I expect she'll be hurt
you weren't prepared to fight for her.
Is that a threat or a promise?
I'd say it was blackmail.
Well,
swords or pistols?
I think pistols would be less tiring.
I'll tell Sellers to arrange it.
I think I would like that drink now.
I'll join you.
I suppose sometime tomorrow you want me to take Victor on a long walk.
So you can be alone with Charles.
Yes, please!
To say goodbye?
Or au revoir?
I don't know.
I honestly don't know.
It's a dreadful thing to confess, but I simply do not know.
I can give no guarantee of what I'm going to do or how I'm going to behave.
Do you find that shocking?
Coming from you I do, rather.
Surprising anyway.
Of course, it's the sort of feeling I've been having ever since I was about 11.
Sellers!
I think I'd better have my glasses!
Very good, my lord!
Where are they?
In my coat.
You looking for something, sir?
Looking for the brandy, Sellers.
His lordship's got it in the gallery, sir.
Well, I'll fetch it if you really feel you need it.
No, no, don't bother.
Probably do better without it.
You were lucky to win the toss, sir.
That luger's a far better job than the .38 his lordships got.
Well,
good luck, sir.
Thank you, Sellers.
As I'm also his lordship's second,
I shall of course be wishing him good luck, too.
Good luck, my lord.
Thank you, Sellers.
Now gentlemen, are you both absolutely sure of the procedure?
I shall go over the final details once more.
You each take 15 paces and turn.
And then I shall shout,
Attention.
Fire.
1, 2, 3.
If either of you should fire after the word 3,
you could be tried for murder.
Any questions?
Very well. Positions. Back to back.
Ready.
15 paces.
Forward!
1...
2...
3...
4...
5...
6...
7...
8...
9...
10...
11...
12...
13...
Turn!
Attention!
Fire!
What was that?
I don't suppose Victor gave Charles an exploding cigar.
Oh Hattie, really.
I can't understand it.
This thing must fire way off to the left.
Sellers!
What are you doing?
Telephoning the doctor, my lord.
Don't do it. Put the telephone down.
Sellers, bring me a very large brandy, please.
I beg your pardon, Charles.
Bring us each a large brandy.
I wonder if I might have one too, my lord.
I'm feeling a little faint.
I didn't hit you, did I, Sellers?
No, my lord. You hit the marble bust of George IV at the end of the gallery.
I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist on that doctor.
You just can't sit around with a bullet hole in you drinking brandy.
That may not hurt much now, but it's bound to hurt later on.
Yes, I dare say. But to get him on the telephone would be a mistake,
and I'd rather you didn't.
- What's his number? - I shan't tell you.
The local exchange has a 24 hour monitoring system.
Thank you.
Thank you, Sellers.
Thank you.
Clean the guns will you. I'm afraid I can't manage them.
Very good, my lord.
Excuse me, sir.
What's happening?
They're all wearing glasses!
Sellers!
Sellers, what's the matter with you?
Nothing at all, my lady.
Now Sellers...
Sellers, nobody's going to hurt you.
Don't be frightened. We're all friends here.
Victor, can't you do something?
Darling, you've got the wrong end of the stick. He's only going to clean them.
What's the matter with your arm? Let me look at it.
What's been happening here?!
Charles and I had a duel. I missed him.
A duel?!
Don't be ridiculous.
I'm not being ridiculous. It's perfectly true.
- You and Charles fought a duel? - Yes, a duel.
You must be out of your mind. Dueling...
I've never heard of anything so preposterous.
You're the Earl of Rhyall, not the Count of Monte Cristo.
Hattie, go and phone the doctor. His number is 29.
Oh Sellers, I do apologize
That's alright, my lady. A perfectly natural mistake.
- Would you get me... - No Hattie. Don't!
If you get him on the telephone, the Exchange will listen.
And by tomorrow morning, the whole village will know.
And by tomorrow evening, it will be in the newspapers.
Someone should fetch him.
I'll go.
That's the least he could do.
Anyway, you're not suppose to have a duel without a doctor.
In the pictures, he's always the one with the bag and without the beard.
Where does he live?
In the village on the same side as the church.
He has a magnolia tree in the garden and a brass plate on his gate.
You can't miss it.
How do I find the village?
That's rather difficult.
I know the way, I'll show you. Wait 2 minutes and I'll put something on.
You look frightfully romantic. Are you sure you're alright, darling?
- Perfectly. - Honest?
Honest.
Don't you think we should tell the doctor to send for an ambulance?
Yes, I think
you better explain. Tell him it's only a slight wound and nothing serious.
What should I say happened?
Tell him my butler, who was highly nervous,
mistook for a burglar and took a shot at me.
You don't mind, do you, Sellers?
- Not at all, lord, not at all. - You're clever. You think of everything.
You wait here, Charles, and I'll give you a shout when I'm ready.
Victor wouldn't let me phone the doctor. So Charles and I are going to fetch him.
Alright, but hurry, won't you?
I heard the most terrific crash, as well as the shot.
Was that you falling?
No that was George IV, whom I mistook for Charles.
- Then you're not damaged anywhere else? / - No, darling.
Did I hurt you?
No, darling.
We won't need you any longer, Sellers. And thank you for all your help.
No, no, no, no, no.
Sellers acted as second for both of us,
and conducted the whole thing quite admirally.
Sellers, bring a hot water bottle. Would you please?
Very good, my lady.
I suppose I'm as much to blame as he is, but...
I really had no alternative.
I tried to talk to him, he just kept repeating his challenge.
If I accepted, then he promised to discuss the whole thing after.
But what if one of you had been killed?
Or both of you?
Precisely. Point is to discuss it beforehand.
Why didn't you miss him? He missed you.
I still can't understand.
That wouldn't been any good, anyway.
According to the Seller's rules, you start at 30 paces.
As you both miss,
Then you each advance 5 paces and fire again.
You've got 3 shots in all.
It's rather like darts, except you move nearer each time.
- Seller's rules. - Hurry up, Charles! I'm waiting!
I'll be right back.
The West Corridor was long enough of course, but one felt rather cramped.
We wanted to have it outside, but
that would've meant waiting until there was light,
and I didn't want to keep Sellers up.
Besides, we might've been rather drunk by then.
Here we are, my lord.
What on Earth have you got there, Sellers?
The champagne his lordship wanted, my lady.
Thank you, Sellers. Open it up, will you.
When did you order champagne?
When did I order it, Sellers?
Earlier this evening, my lord.
- Why? - I thought we might need it.
Have we anything to celebrate?
I thought we might get thirsty.
I got it from the grocery. I hope it's alright.
From my bill, I suppose.
I'll pay you back.
You just got it to be friendly. Didn't you?
You have a wonderful gift for choosing the right word.
My lady.
Thank you, Sellers.
And have a glass yourself.
No thank you, my lord. No.
I've served his lordship's cold bottle.
I'll just go and attend his hot one, my lady.
You're not cross with me. Are you?
Oh no, I'm not cross.
I just think you should see a doctor.
I'm going to see a doctor.
No, not him. I mean a specialist.
A brain specialist for mental disorders.
Do you realize that you might've been killed.
Or disabled for life, or
put into prison for manslaughter?
You should be flattered a risked so much for you.
Now, where are you going?
To put something about.
- I can get it for you. - No, I want to attend to something else.
I thought you were an intelligent, civilized person,
and you behave like a barbarian.
Listen Victor, I know I've behaved disgracefully.
But let me try and explain what's happened to me.
We know what happened. You fell in love.
This past week I've been more or less schizophrenic.
As if I had two heads, or something.
Two very pretty heads.
Here. Put this on.
Now, how should we do this?
Like this.
You know. One of my heads is appalled at my behavior.
The other approves.
Two of my eyes are bewitched, and dazzled, and so happy.
And the other two have tears in them.
I can't explain it any other way, and I can't expect you to understand.
Of course I understand.
I'm only so grateful to you for not saying this is something stronger than I am.
If you want the plain, honest truth that's exactly right.
Not that you appear to give a damn anyway.
What makes you say that?
From what I gather from Hattie.
All you said, was you thought it would be a pity.
Oh, no. I said, I thought it would be a pity if you ran away with Charles.
I can't see on what's called the international set, my darling.
Not the glittler and glare of San Mauritz, and Nassau, and Palm Beach.
You're English.
And you need the gentleness of the rain and the soft winds of England.
And a nest of robins in my hair.
Besides, you'd be wearing sunglasses all the year round,
and no one would see the color of your eyes.
- It would be a very great pity. - Who's suggesting such a life for me?
Charles is. And how do I do that?
In here. No, put your arm in first. Put your arm in first.
At least you'd have a maid or even perhaps two to help you pack.
Is that the only reason you think it would be a pity?
Oh, no. Certainly not. I can think of a thousand pities.
But none from your point of view.
Yes indeed. But let's not go into that.
Why not?
Because this is hardly the moment.
Let's just say I'd should miss going to bed with you,
and there'd be no one to do the Christmas cards.
You seem to have overlooked the fact
that if you hadn't invited Charles down here for the weekend.
I should've already said goodbye to him
and the whole thing might've been finished and done with.
Unfinished and done with. That's very different.
The most unsatisfactory state of affairs for all concerned.
You think you've saved us all that by getting shot up in a duel?
Not at all.
Although I admit a duel was an essential part of an effort to try to preserve
- our marriage. - I'm a little confused.
From the way you've been talking, I imagined you were
hellbent and hot foot for the divorce court.
No, who said anything about divorce? I never mentioned it. I don't like divorce.
What's more, I don't think adultery is a sufficient ground for it.
Oh, what a masculine attitude.
I don't think marriage is just a liaison to be terminated when the
sexual side of it gets
boring or irksome to either party.
Oh, it's never been boring or irksome.
Not for me, it hasn't.
And don't talk about either party. It makes it sound like a contract.
If two people make promises, what else can it be but a contract.
You promised to be faithful.
You've broken that one.
Must I respond by breaking one of mine?
To have and to hold.
From this day forth. For better, for worse.
This moment in our lives must obviously come under the heading "for worse".
And the popular measure to take nowadays is to say
the better part of it is over and here we are with the worse so,
goodbye, my dear, thank you so much. It was fun while it lasted.
You take your boyfriend, I'll take my freedom,
and I'll be on the Riviera before you.
I think that's wrong.
If your mistress is unfaithful. She should be discarded.
If your wife is,
she should be befriended.
Befriended?
Meaning helped and patronized?
Meaning beloved and cherished.
Unless she's a promiscuous trollop of course.
Then the situation's out of control and quite hopeless.
I am not a promiscuous trollop, it's never happened before.
- I didn't say you were and I know it hasn't. / - It has with you.
- Objection! - Objection overruled.
How do I know that you're not a promiscuous...
well, whatever the masculine is of trollop?
If you're saying I don't like French mustard or going to the Opera,
because we've been living together for 12 years.
OI wonder why living together sounds so much more fun then if you said,
married for 12 years.
The hot water bottle, my lady.
Thank you, Sellers. Would you put it here, please.
I'm sorry we didn't have our...
How should I put it?
Our home win, my lord.
I'm sorry we kept you up so late.
- Thank you, Sellers. / - No, no, no. It's I who should be thanking you.
I've learned a great deal from events this evening.
What have you learned, Sellers.
Amongst other things, that my novel is no good, my lady.
Oh, dear!
I'm about to go to my room and tear it up.
It's not true to life at all.
How can anyone say what's true to life.
Now, where was I?
Up a gum tree.
Oh yes, and very uncomfortable, too.
The role of complacent husband I find distasteful.
And the jealous one, rather ludicrous.
To my annoyance, I turn out to be both.
- Are you jealous? - Very.
It would be rather hurtful if you weren't.
You should feel gratified.
Yes, I do. Thank you, darling.
Are you really sure you're jealous?
Yes, I am. Quite sure. Why?
Cause I wondered if it wasn't just a sense of possession
that had been aroused in you.
Losing something that belonged to you.
You mean like the contents of a suitcase?
Oh no, it's a little more than that.
- Where is it? - Where's what?
You know darn well what. Come on, where is it?
I haven't the faintest idea of what you're talking about.
We are talking about the contents of a suitcase.
That was merely, as I said before, a figure of speech.
Oh, yes it was, my darling.
I suppose I really shouldn't call you my darling, should I?
That too has become merely a figure of speech.
I'd better get some more champagne. This is beginning to hurt.
- Are you alright, do you think? - Yes, thank you.
Then you get your champagne and let me get you into bed.
Despite the fact I'm your husband,
under the present circumstances, I find that a most improper suggestion.
You may have talked a lot of sense this evening.
But there's been an awful lot of hot air, too.
Incidentally, do you think I like growing mushrooms?
You think I like living in a few rooms of an enormous, damp mansion?
And you know you're wrong about the international set.
I'm sure I'd adore them.
I've always simply longed to meet them.
And I could water ski and aqua lung,
instead of that well known British past time of making both ends meet.
It would be wonderful for the children, too, wouldn't it?
Surely, you must see it's very tempting.
Yes, indeed. The grass is always greener on the other side of the hedge.
You ought to think it over very carefully.
Oh, I have. Perhaps I still am.
If that's what you want, I better think again.
What I cannot understand is why you had to fight a duel.
To make my role of complacent husband a little less ignoble, I think is the word.
And to remind you that I'm very fond of you.
I didn't want to write you a letter of send you roses.
I thought that a duel would be just the ticket.
Just the ticket? Where to? A crematorium?
- Oh no, a cloak room. - Oh, shut up.
And you haven't told me where it is.
Where what is?
And what would've happened if you killed Charles. What do you think I'd have done?
I'm a very reliable shot.
Even with a revolver.
Yes, but what did it prove?
Obviously nothing just yet.
So I can only suggest that we declare a sort of moratorium.
How do you mean?
An armistice, an intermission. Call it what you like.
Whatever you do, you do.
If you decide to go off with him, I'll just have to wait here until you get back.
You mean you'd be willing to do that?
- Yes. - For how long?
- Just as long as it takes. - Aha, I see.
And wash that man right out of my hair. Is that the idea?
I think the next nine wires and send him on his way.
Which I sincerely hope you'll do. You bloody tourist.
Let him go sightseeing somewhere else.
You mean you'd really be prepared to loan me to another man?
In order to get him out of my system?
What other choice have I?
Shocking as it may seem, I think it's the safest route.
To back where we were?
To back where we were.
You must love me very much.
Love and like and value.
So you don't want to take me back now?
No, not under these circumstances.
You're much too pretty to have as a housekeeper.
But what are you going to do all the time I'm away?
I shall cross the days off the calender,
hope that you're having bad weather, and that Charles is getting on your nerves.
That's not very kind.
I feel jealous, indignant, and unhappy, but certainly not kind.
But there it is. Marriage isn't like a tray of hors-d'oeuvres.
You can't just pick what you fancy. You've got to take the lot or nothing.
Well...
It's settled then.
I'm sorry you were wounded. Is it very painful?
Yes. It is a bit. Now.
Well?
Aren't you going to kiss me goodbye?
But then ofcourse, according to you, we shan't know
whether it is goodbye for quite some time. Shall we?
Doctor's coming along in his own car.
Soon as he can get dressed.
How are you feeling?
Well Charles,
Hilary and I have had a long talk and I've decided...
No, darling, I've decided.
Charles,
Victor's idea is that I shall go away with you for a few months.
At the end of which time, he hopes I will return to him.
Having got bored with me.
Exactly.
Come now. I didn't put it quite as crudely as that, did I?
I'm sure you did.
But then what's the point of fighting a duel?
Because he was too lazy to write me a letter, and too mean to send me roses.
I'm sorry. I don't understand.
No, but the point is, I do.
I don't think you will be bored.
And anyway, I'm willing to take that chance.
Are you Charles? Are you really?
Victor, do you remember Viula?
Oh, don't tell me she's lost again.
Alright who's Viula, and what's she got to do with it?
Viula is a doll, whom Emma loves devotedly and has for years.
You can always tell how much a doll is loved by its state of dilapidation.
And Viula is maimed and nearly bald,
and over the years she's had a great deal of trouble with her eyes.
The Christmas before last,
Emmas was given a new doll, whom she christened Angela.
And Angela had red hair which you could permanently wave.
And if you wound her up at the back, she could recite,
"Now I lay me down to sleep" before she was put to bed.
She was very beautiful.
And the inevitable happened.
Well,
about 6 months ago, Emma had to have her tonsils out.
And as she was getting into the car to go to the hospital,
clutching the beloved Angela,
she suddenly stopped dead and said,
"Where's Viula?".
And she woudln't go without her.
Remember Victor?
We searched for hours, and
eventually Viula was found.
Damp, discarded, rather moldy, and covered with ants.
We soaked her in disinfectant, wrapped her in a towel,
pinned a label to her saying Emergency Ward, and
Emma stopped crying.
It's a commonplace, rather sad, little story.
Must have happened to hundreds of children in hundreds of homes, and I'm...
I'm very sorry to have repeated it,
particularly as I'm old enough to know better.
And, what happened to Angela?
I'm ashamed to say she was left behind.
Face downward in the gravel.
If that story is supposed to illustrate what I think are your intentions,
I must warn you. I'm in no mood to be soaked in disinfectant.
I guess I just
pick my face up out of the gravel and
leave by that door through which I came.
I'm so sorry, Charles.
So deeply sorry.
But when I saw Victor in this wounded state, I suddenly realized.
No, not realized, remembered.
How very much I love him.
And I'd forgotten it for a whole week.
You should write it down on your shopping list.
I'm afraid I don't want to leave him.
Not for 3 months, or 3 days, or even 3 hours.
There it is.
Well,
you were right, weren't you?
And you proved your point.
- About what? - About dueling and the divorce rate.
You couldn't very well leave a husband who had fought and been wounded for you.
Could you?
No.
I knew it.
Why didn't I miss him?
Why was I stupid enough to be talked into...
Wait a minute.
Would you mind if I had a word with Sellers?
Oh, by all means.
What do you want to talk to Sellers about?
You'll see, in a moment or two.
Isn't it a little late? He'll have gone to bed.
Nonsense. He's much too over excited to go to bed.
Yes, but we've kept him up late enough
- as it is, darling. - No, he's alright.
He's tearing up his novel.
Did you ring, my lord?
Forgive my dressing gown, my lady.
May I?
Go on. Fire away.
Fire, I must warn you, is the operative word.
Sellers, what's your first name?
Trevor, sir.
I thought it might be Dick, as in "Dead Eye".
Where did you learn to use a pistol, Sellers?
In the army, sir.
A small arms training school. Southeast in command.
They did a good job on you, you're a fine shot.
What is all this about?
Would you like to tell her ladyship, Sellers? Or you Victor?
Or shall I?
Go on Sellers. Tell them what happened.
His lordship anticipated Mr. Delacro's intention, my lady.
What are you talking about? What intention?
That he would of course shoot to miss his lordship, my lady.
We reckoned, with all the excitement, you'd be too preoccupied to notice, sir.
I fired from the hip.
- Do you mean to say... - That I shot his lordship?
Yes, my lady. On his instructions, of course.
A fine second you turned out to be.
I could claim a foul, and demand a replay.
Victor, is this true?
Yes, darling.
But I've always believed that the happy ending justifies the means.
And I thought it was all so romantic and you were so brave.
So I was. After the way Sellers shot at the practice this morning,
I was never so frightened in my life.
What was the best you got, Sellers?
3 flower pots out of 5, my lord.
There, you see?
Will that be all, my lady?
- Yes, thank you Sellers. Goodnight. - Goodnight, my lady.
Goodnight, my lord.
Good night, sir.
Victor, darling. You feeling alright now?
No.
Where did you get that coat?
Somebody gave it to me.
What for? Just answer me that. What for?
To keep me warm, I suppose.
- Who gave it to you? - I've been dying to show it to you.
You're not jealous, are you, darling?
Do you know that for just one split second, I was. I really was.
I can't blam you. Isn't the color dreamy?
Take it off.
- You want to try it on? - I have tried it on. Take it off.
- Look out for my arm. - But Vicky, darling! I can't!
- I haven't got much underneath. - I couldn't care less. Take it off!
You could try it on in the morning.
- Take it off! - Vicky, darling. I can't!
I am going to count to 3.
1...
2...
- How do I shoot this? - Oh, no, no, no!
Oh, this way!
Yes, that's right. Now then, for the last time.
Take it off!
I suppose this is what's called being frightened out of one's skins.
Dearest Charles, this is the most lovely coat I have ever seen.
But I'm afraid I must give it back to you.
- I'm cold! / - You better put this back on right away.
Thank you, Charles.
Isn't it gorgeous. I finally got a mink. It just goes to show you, doesn't it?
Oh, Hil, darling. You did look lovely in it.
- And I'm sure you did. - I must say I did like it.
But it is a little too much for a housekeeper to wear mink.
What do you mean, housekeeper?
That's my position here, for a little while.
Good. Then give me that.
- Thank you, Sellers. - Thank you, Madame.
Goodbye, Mrs. Durant, dear.
Goodbye Hil, darling.
- Bye, darling. - Thank you for a lovely weekend.
- Bye, Charles. - Goodbye, Hilary.
Goodbye, Charles.
Victor.
- Bye, darling. - Bye bye.
Here they are.
- Hello, my love! - Phillip, Phillip!
- How nice to see you. - Hello, darling.
What happened to your arm, Daddy?
- I sprained my wrist. - He broke his shoulder.