Original subtitles

FRANK: And now the reporting restrictions

Are getting even worse.

I want to tell my readers the truth.

But the stories I'm allowed to print

are only fit for the gossip columns.

The editor's always pushing me for a scoop…

Whiskers!

What have whiskers got to do with it?

Every time you get het up

about some great injustice or other,

I see your whiskers start to bristle.

(both laughing)

And is that an attractive quality?

Well, I'm on your arm, aren't I?

That you are, Kitty Hawkins, that you are.

What's going on, Frank?

(whispering)? So is he a spy?

Well, who knows?

(staff whispering)

Would you like to call everyone to order, Mr. Crabb?

Ladies and gentlemen, if you don't mind…

(clears throat)

(whispering continues)

KITTY: Spying is treason,

and the punishment for treason is hanging.

Yes, but who on earth would suspect Mr. Leclair

of such a thing?

THACKERAY: This is war, Miss Mardle.

People show their true colors.

Let's not rush to judgment, eh?

Especially when none of us know the facts.

Yes, I agree with Mr. Colleano.

Ladies and gentlemen, if you please?

(whispering continues)

(loud whistle)

Thank you, Mr. Colleano.

Now, I appreciate we're all shocked and distressed

by the incident involving Monsieur Leclair.

One can hardly fail to notice

the presence of the police in the store.

As I'm sure you're aware,

with somewhat unfortunate timing,

Mr. Selfridge has been called away to Paris on store business.

In his absence, Mr. Crabb and I will take the helm.

When do we expect Mr. Selfridge to return?

Imminently.

Imminently, wouldn't you say, Mr. Crabb?

Yes, that was the impression Mrs. Selfridge gave me.

Merely a short trip to meet some new wholesalers.

GROVE: In the meantime,

I would ask you to do your best

to cooperate with the authorities

and to answer any questions they might have.

Anything, Mr…?

That will be all, thank you.

Back to business, Mr. Crabb.

Paris at a moment's notice!

And yet Mr. Selfridge left no itinerary at all?

This is most unlike him.

He usually asks me to book all his accommodation.

I can only assume he chose to make his own arrangements.

If you wish, I could try his favorite hotels?

Do so at once, Miss Plunkett.

Let me know the second you hear from him.

Yes, Mr. Crabb.

You said yourself

Mr. Leclair's been acting strangely?

Somethings wrong, but spying?

Stranger things have happened.

Go to the police station.

Talk to him.

Find out what all this is about.

Anyone says anything here, I'll cover for you.

Thank you.

They can't do this!

If Pa was here, he would…

He would cooperate.

As are we.

He'll only be in France a short while.

I hate the fact they're searching our home.

There must be some kind of misunderstanding.

Then why aren't we doing anything?

Henri is no spy!

Your father's lawyers are trying to ascertain

exactly what evidence the police have against him.

(door opens)

(keys jangling)

Miss Towler.

For God's sake, Henri, call me by my name.

It's good to see you, Agnes.

Look at you.

They would not even let me change my shirt.

I look terrible, I'm sorry.

What is it that they think that you've done?

They believe I have a link to Germany.

And do you?

It's not what they think.

And you've explained that?

That you're innocent?

You don't think I've tried?

They refuse to believe me.

Well, then tell me.

Tell me and I'll do everything I can to help you.

But you have to trust me.

Henri, you're…

You're in great danger.

If they charge you with treason,

then God only knows what could happen.

Please.

All I want is the truth.

I'm no SPY-

Ever since I returned to London, I've been searching for someone.

I've been looking for Valerie.

Uh, Valerie Maurel?

Yeah, Valerie Maurel.

She left me a year ago.

We had been happy in New York,

or so I thought.

But then she met another man.

They left and went to Berlin.

I followed them.

I don't understand.

Why couldn't you accept them being together?

I did, finally, but…

But you loved her very much, didn't you?

I heard they had come back to England.

So I came back, hired a detective.

I just needed to talk to her.

Well, if you've explained all of this to the police,

then why won't they release you?

Someone in the store has accused me of being a spy.

They think I'm lying about Valerie

to conceal the truth.

But who would do such a thing?

And Why?

GUARD: That's it, time's up.

We haven't finished…

Yes, you have.

White gold and diamonds.

Mr. Colleano shows taste.

Victor proposed last night.

I said yes.

Then you must both be very happy.

You've never approved before.

He's a good man.

You deserve nothing less.

Miss Mardle.

Mr. Grove.

Miss Mardle, I feel I simply must broach

a somewhat delicate subject.

Mr. Grove?

Your lodger…

Florian.

He's a young man.

And men, we both know, have certain… urges.

Urges they might find hard to control.

I'm sorry, I'm not quite sure what you're referring to.

I'm merely concerned for your reputation.

My reputation?

He gives you a certain look

which only a man of similar weakness might recognize.

That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.

There is nothing inappropriate about our arrangement.

I don't know what to say!

I'm sorry.

(elevator doors open)

Miss Towler?

Sit down.

AGNES: Mr. Leclair can explain everything.

He's been looking for Valerie Maurel.

That's why he went to Germany-- to find her.

He even hired a detective.

Which accounts for his strange behavior.

Yet they're refusing to release him?

Someone has accused him of being a spy.

Someone from Selfridge's.

That's why the police won't believe him.

But we have no idea who his accuser is?

Well, the police won't say.

But Mr. Thackeray has never liked Henri.

Especially since Mr. Selfridge promoted him.

I agree there has been a certain rivalry between them

as two creative people.

He hates him!

We mustn't jump to conclusions.

Leave it to me.

You will find out who did this?

His… his life is at stake.

Be assured, this matter will be dealt with.

If someone has falsely accused Henri Leclair,

I will find out who that is.

ROSE". I don't understand, Miss Plunkett.

Harry always stays at the Ritz when he's in Paris.

I'll keep trying other hotels.

All right.

You will call me if he does arrive?

Of course, Mrs. Selfridge.

Thank you.

Goodbye.

ROSE". Why would he have this?

This is Bill's handwriting.

Who is Bill?

Bill Summertime.

He works for the Intelligence Service.

The Intelligence Service?

Yes, they were in touch with Harry.

I'm sorry, I just assumed he would have confided in you.

Where's Harry?

Where's my husband?

I don't know.

From the looks of this, he's in Germany.

Germany?

I'm sure if they thought

there was any real danger, they wouldn't…

My husband runs a London store!

He's been sent into the arms of the enemy

and you think there's no real danger?

Rose, I apologize.

I honestly thought he would have discussed this with you.

I had no idea that your relationship was in…

This has got nothing to do with my relationship.

I need to contact my husband.

There's been an emergency.

Henri Leclair has been arrested for spying.

Henri?

If you know this man Summertime,

you need to find out where Harry is.

I want my husband back.

GROVE". We still have no firm idea

as to when Mr. Selfridge will return?

Has he contacted you at all?

Not precisely.

But with all the war restrictions,

he may be unable to contact us.

Just so.

Though it is most unlike him.

He does so pride himself

on keeping in touch.

Yes, well, rest assured, the minute I hear from him,

you will be the first to know.

Thank you.

The timing is somewhat unfortunate.

People are seeing conspiracies everywhere they look.

All the more reason for us to keep our heads.

Lord Egerton.

I've had the Ministry on the phone all morning,

bending my bloody ear.

Apologies for the language, Lady Loxley.

Shoddy.

Poor workmanship.

And the worst of it is

the story is leaking faster than your damned boots!

So it's a bad batch.

Teething troubles.

I'll have a word with the suppliers.

For God's sake, Loxley,

everything they've sent has failed!

Poor seams, cheap leather.

I merely acted on the recommendations

of Harry Selfridge.

And you followed his advice?

To the letter.

Well, whoever's to blame, you're the one who's going

to carry the can for this if it gets out.

So I suggest you take steps to fix it.

Now!

This a new low.

Even for you, Loxley.

Young men sent to the front with boots like these?

You should be ashamed of yourself.

One can't be held to account for another man's mistakes.

I'm no fool.

One minute we're broke

and the next, we're rolling in it.

There's no wonder you were in such a hurry

to get back to town

the moment war was declared.

You never showed a blind bit of interest in the House of Lords

until you realized you could get on the procurement committee.

And then you take a kickback

from your shady manufacturers!

Making a profit from war!

Oh, and now you have the nerve

to try and blame the whole thing on Harry Selfridge!

It is a pity you didn't

raise these concerns to your shopkeeper friend

before you vouched for me

and before you went on your little spending spree

in his store.

No, don't you dare!

This has nothing to do with me!

On the contrary.

You've been lavishing my money all over town

and the whole world knows it.

And as you are aware, appearances are everything.

I may be landed gentry

and you might be some tart from the stage,

but we do have one thing in common, Mae.

We both look after number one.

At least I have the honesty to admit it.

(knocking)

Come in.

Mr. Crabb, I think you should see this.

Thank you, Miss Plunkett.

Could you give me a moment?

Mr. Crabb?

This letter from Mr. Fletcher's family arrived

with the morning post.

Dave's been killed?

One hardly knows how to react.

Ed and George?

And the other lads from the loading bay?

No word, I'm afraid.

One must assume they remain safe.

Have you told anyone else?

Mr. Grove is aware.

No one else.

In normal circumstances,

Mr. Selfridge would write a letter of condolence

to the family himself, but in his absence…

I'll do it.

Dave was my friend.

We have no idea when father will be back,

and this can't wait.

I will write it.

If you're sure?

It's what Father would want.

You'll have it today.

Very good, sir.

It has to be!

Listen.

"Walked in the park with K this morning.

"Sometimes it takes the words of a beautiful woman

to make one realize what truly matters in life."

(giggling)

Sorry, Miss Hawkins.

We were just reading Mr. Edwards' column.

Is it true?

LS it you?

"Miss K"?

I'm sure I've got no idea what you're talking about.

Look, right here.

(gasps)

Back to work, please, girls.

Timeless, wouldn't you say, Mr. Grove?

The finest fabrics France has to offer.

Most impressive display.

I am sure Monsieur Leclair would appreciate it.

Yes, indeed.

His arrest is most disturbing.

I recall you had your concerns over his probity?

Information I thought you should be made aware of

as chief of staff.

The situation is serious.

The penalties for espionage are most severe.

If someone were to suffer as a result of a wrongful conviction,

that would be a tragedy indeed.

I have utter faith in the authorities.

I'm sure justice will be served.

I hope so.

For all our sakes.

(sighs)

Writing love letters to your sweetheart?

Sorry, you were a million miles away then.

What's wrong?

Mr. Crabb came to see me.

He received a letter.

It's Dave.

Why is Dave writing to Mr. Crabb?

It's not that.

Dave was killed, Grace.

At the front.

(crying)

I'm sorry.

I know you were close.

When we had problems with the Union,

he proved himself to be a real friend.

He understood that family was more important,

that I had to stick up for my father.

So what are you writing?

It's a letter of condolence to his family.

Mr. Selfridge isn't here,

so it's become my responsibility.

You should hear Mr. Edwards talk!

The tales he tells me!

Really, Miss Hawkins?

Oh, yes!

Spies in our midst.

Secret agents everywhere.

Even Buckingham Palace has got…

Don't stop on my account.

Miss Towler,

I'm sure Miss Hawkins meant no harm.

Of course she did.

She always does.

You're pathetic, you know that?

I wouldn't be surprised

if it weren't you who informed on him.

(gasps)

Don't you see what damage this does?!

Miss Towler, this is neither the time or the place.

Henri Leclair helped make this store what it is.

Your jobs, your lives-- you have him to thank.

You don't deserve him.

Any of you.

Get on with your work.

VICTOR: So why doesn't he explain himself?

He's… he tried.

But the police won't believe him.

Now someone's accused him,

they won't let him go until they've investigated.

Being in love with a girl is no crime in my book.

We need to do something.

I'm sure Mr. Thackeray has accused him,

but we need to prove it.

I-I-I know Mr. Grove is doing his best, but…

There's no reason we can't give him a helping hand.

LOXLEY: I used the supplier that Selfridge himself recommended

for military boots.

So there's your story, Mr. Edwards.

I thought you might be interested.

Yes, I would be willing to meet you.

Why don't you come to the house?

I think our boys deserve better, don't you?

An inferior job by an inferior firm.

All on Selfridge's recommendations.

The reputation of my procurement committee

is at stake here.

Not to mention the effect on morale.

Questions need to be asked.

I thought you were the man to do it.

I know Harry Selfridge.

I can't believe he'd allow this to happen.

I agree.

It seems strange.

I have tried to contact him to get his side of the story,

but he's unavailable.

And the men are talking.

This story is about to break.

You understand I can't publish any of this

without corroboration?

Even then, it'd be a risk.

The man has more lawyers than lovers.

I need to speak to him myself.

I understand completely.

You must do what you think is right.

But one way or another, Mr. Edwards,

this story will come out.

VICTOR: And I say it's just another word for coward.

FRANCO: I just don't see what business it is of yours anyway, Victor?

VICTOR: Last time I looked,

you were still a member of this family,

which means I can still tell you what's what!

A family quarrel, Mr. Colleano?

You saw?

My apologies.

The boy's an idiot.

Decided to call himself a pacifist now.

Forgets where his loyalties should lie.

Don't be fooled by the name, Mr. Thackeray.

I'm as English as the next man.

An admirable attitude.

We all have to be on our guard.

You can't trust anyone.

Personally, I'm glad someone shopped that frog Leclair.

Well, Miss Towler seems to worship him.

Although Lord knows quite why.

I'm glad we see eye to eye, Mr. Thackeray.

I was beginning to think the world had gone mad.

(laughs)

Whoever turned Leclair in has done us all a favor.

I'd like to shake him by the hand.

Then why don't you?

I merely did what I thought was right.

For my country and my store.

I was surprised to read your column today.

I think at least you could have consulted me

before using my good name for popular entertainment.

I've been trying to see Mr. Selfridge.

Not like him to disappear without warning.

Miss Plunkett seemed most perturbed when I asked her.

He was supposed to be in Paris.

But nobody's been able to contact him.

They've tried the hotels?

Everywhere.

It's like he's vanished into thin air!

Considering working for our rivals?

They're killing us.

We need a story, Frank.

And a little bird tells me

you've got something on our Mr. Selfridge?

It's sketchy-- rumors.

That he cut corners on military supplies?

It seems out of character for Selfridge.

We can't run it until we've talked to him,

and he's not in the country.

I need a scoop, Frank.

And so do you.

I've got another lead.

Lady Diana Manners.

Tittle tattle.

My readers want real news.

Harry Selfridge.

We can't run it until he's had right of reply,

and I don't know where he is.

I do.

He boarded a train last night.

But not bound for Paris.

Right now, Mr. Selfridge is on a train through Holland.

All very incognito,

but we have got a source in the porter's lodge.

So where's he going?

Germany.

Berlin.

Are you quite sure?

It goes in the evening edition.

Write it, Frank, or I'll find someone else who will.

(door closes)

It's no good.

Then maybe we should stop, give up.

Wait until Mr. Selfridge gets back.

You're right.

My father would know the right thing to say.

He always does.

Well, maybe Mr. Selfridge is part of the problem.

You're trying to be like him

when you should just be yourself.

So what would this Mr. Selfridge do?

He'd wish he hadn't offered to write this letter.

Then don't.

Do you trust me, Kitty?

How do you mean?

I am serious.

As much as any so-called gentleman.

And do you believe one should try and tell the truth

when something really matters?

Is something wrong, Frank?

I rather fear it is.

Thank you, Mr. Colleano.

Ah.

You wanted to see me?

Mr. Colleano has told me what you said.

About Monsieur Leclair.

I see.

You don't deny it?

Monsieur Leclair was acting suspiciously.

He'd admitted he spent time in Germany.

I came to Mr. Grove with my concerns

and he chose to ignore them.

I don't see what else I could have done.

Monsieur Leclair has fully explained his actions.

And you believed him?

I have no reason to doubt him.

He travelled to Berlin on a personal matter,

the pursuit of which then brought him to London.

Nevertheless, he has risked the reputation of this store.

The store my husband owns.

And he founded it on certain principles.

Respect for the customer,

respect for the people he employs,

whether they're head of fashion

or sweeping the corridors.

Perhaps I was too quick to act.

Whatever your motivation, what you did was wrong.

Are you handing me my notice?

If it was up to me, then yes.

But the final decision rests with Mr. Selfridge.

However, I do insist you accompany me

to the police station,

where you will make a full retraction

of your statement immediately.

Collect your things.

(door opens)

Mr. Crabb?

The newspaper.

Dreadful news!

It's all over the front page!

One can hardly believe it!

It's scandalous!

Utterly scandalous!

NEWSPAPERMAN: Procurement scandal!

Read all about it!

Procurement scandal!

Selfridge implicated!

Read all about it!

Read all about it!

It's a tissue of lies.

The very idea that Mr. Selfridge would recommend

any of these manufacturers!

We know full well

these names are dubious at best!

"High-profile sources have confirmed to this journalist

"that there are more questions to be answered.

"Lord Loxley of the Military Procurement committee

has expressed his shock and surprise at the turn of events."

Loxley said that?

"Mr. Selfridge himself was not available for comment.

"There are rumors that he is currently

traveling through Germany."

But this is all nonsense!

Germany?

Mr. Selfridge is in Paris.

We must issue a denial.

Demand an immediate retraction!

Yes, I agree.

No!

We do nothing until Mr. Selfridge returns

and we hear what he has to say.

But surely you don't believe

there can be any basis to these allegations?

Of course not,

but a strident denial could simply fuel the fire.

Are you quite all right, Mrs. Selfridge?

Shall I open a window?

A glass of water?

I could ask Miss Plunkett…

No, I'm fine.

Thank you, Mr. Crabb.

I just think that under the circumstances,

a dignified silence is the wisest course.

At least until my husband returns.

Then he can explain his actions himself.

Where are we going?

All in good time.

So why won't you tell me where we're going?

Because we're already here.

This is where Dave's family live.

I don't know if I can do it.

Just tell them what you told me.

From the heart.

That's all that really matters,

Mr. Selfridge.

Mrs. Fletcher.

I'm Gordon Selfridge.

May I come in?

Of course.

(violin music playing)

That was truly lovely.

Music is beautiful.

All I have to do is play.

Florian, there's something

that has been brought to my attention.

A suggestion that I am sure is quite ridiculous,

but now it has been made…

Well, I feel we need to clear the air,

as it were.

Yes?

I'm afraid it is rather personal.

If you wish me to pay rent…

Rent?

Rent, oh goodness me, no!

Not money, nothing to do with money.

Please, you can say anything to me.

Very well, I shall.

It has been suggested that you may have developed

a mild ardor for me.

Something that could perhaps go beyond what is proper

if we are to continue on with our domestic arrangement.

Do you understand?

You are asking if I have fallen in love with you?

Well, yes.

Well, no, no, I'm merely…

It is true.

I have.

You've fallen in love with me?

Is it so surprising?

Well, frankly, yes.

I am so much older than you, for a start.

And then there are the cultural differences.

Not to mention the…

I'm sorry, I can't…

I can't…

What is this, Frank?

Just a second.

Do you truly believe this?

That Mr. Selfridge is responsible for these boots?

The evidence is strong.

How strong?

This could ruin him.

But if it's the truth, Kitty…

Truth!

What about character?

What about loyalty?

In all the years you've known him,

has he ever done anything like this?

For a clever man,

you can be a real fool, Frank Edwards.

You called, m'lady?

Are you happy with me?

Of course, m'lady.

We've come a long way, haven't we, since the Gaiety?

Indeed, m'lady.

I had a very good voice.

Like an angel, m'lady.

And I could dance, too.

After a fashion.

Do you remember we used to be jealous of those girls

who got away?

Married into money?

I bet they talk about me that way now

when they're putting on their makeup

and practicing their scales.

You married well, m'lady.

You never used to lie to me.

Not when you were my dresser.

You used to tell me what was what.

"Not that dress, Mae.

Makes your ankles look like a dray horse's fetlocks."

(laughs)

You understand that I have to leave, don't you?

But you can stay if you want to.

No, m'lady.

I'll get your clothes.

Oh, Jane?

We only take what we came with.

No more, no less.

Mr. Thackeray?

I don't know if I can face him.

If he truly is innocent.

But you will.

And I will make sure Mr. Selfridge knows

you did your best to repair the damage.

(door opens)

(phone ringing)

LOXLEY: Loxley.

Ah, I wondered when you would call.

Really?

Yes, I am available to give you a comment.

Lady Loxley.

Rose, I'm sorry to call unannounced like this,

but there's something I must discuss with you.

I fear Loxley means to cause trouble for Harry.

I think you'll find he already has.

You knew about this, didn't you?

Didn't you?!

You vouched for your husband.

Harry trusted you.

I trusted you.

I made a terrible mistake.

I am so sorry.

I promise I'm going to do everything in my power

to put this right.

You must think I'm a fool.

I want nothing more to do with you.

Never contact my husband or myself again.

I understand.

(sobbing)

Franco told me what you did.

Getting Mr. Thackeray to confess.

Thank you.

I felt quite sorry for him.

They're releasing Henri?

Yes, Mr. Thackeray has agreed to withdraw his accusation.

Good.

I'm glad.

I hope he finds his girl.

Everyone deserves a little happiness.

Even the French.

(laughs)

You know, you could have stopped me from going there.

Not every man would have been

so understanding.

Yes, well, I trust you, believe it or not.

Well, I do love you.

Good job, too.

Not too late, m'lady.

We could turn round?

We've made our beds, Pimble.

Looks like it's time to lie in them.

(doorbell rings)

(door opens)

Mr. Grove?

Where is Mr. Leclair?

I'm afraid there's…

been a complication.

The police have refused to release him.

I don't understand.

They accepted Mr. Thackeray's retraction?

Indeed.

But…

It seems there's something else.

Since being arrested,

the police have carried out some checks.

They've contacted the American police.

Purely routine, but…

What is it?

Mr. Leclair has been accused of theft.

In New York.

He disappeared without answering the charges.

He's a fugitive.

Henri Leclair is a wanted man.

(sighs)

I thought she was going to burst into tears.

She went as red as anything.

(laughing)

It's a telegram.

(sobs)

Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH access.wgbh.org