Original subtitles

- Well, good night, Wheeler. - Good night, Winslow. See you tomorrow.

- As a matter of fact you won't. - Huh?

I've travelled on the 6:13 for the last time.

Good heavens. You've been travelling on it for years.

Forty-two, to be precise. Retiring.

Retiring? You don't look the retiring sort.

Well, as a matter of fact, I'm not. But a slight touch of arthritis.

Arthritis? My dear fellow, you're talking to the right man.

My wife's brother was a martyr.

A positive martyr!

He found a specialist. I forget his name.

The specialist took one look at him and said-- Goodbye! Good luck!

Arthur.

You're back, dear.

- Mother, I'm nearly ready. - Yes, Ronnie, darling.

- Don't tell Father, whatever you do. - What am I not to be told?

- Can't you guess? - How does he look in it?

- Quite adorable. - Where's Catherine?

She's in the garden, I think.

Yes. There she is, doing her envelopes.

- Shall I tell her you're in? - No, don't.

From now on, my family will have all the chances they'll want of finding me in.

Oh, Arthur dear, I am sorry. I'd forgotten today was your last at the bank.

- What was it like? - Well, they gave me a watch.

"To Arthur Winslow, from his friends and colleagues at Lloyds Bank,

September 9, 1912.

How nice.

I don't know how you feel about it, but I'm glad it's all over now.

I'm glad that at last you're going to have a real rest.

I thought I'd made it sufficiently clear to Dickie

that I would have him playing his infernal machine in the drawing room.

Oh, hello, Father. I--

I was just practising the bunny hug.

- The what? - The-- The bunny hug.

Well, it's a cross between the turkey trot and the kangaroo hop.

- Did you finish that work this afternoon? - Well, uh...

no, not exactly, but--

I think it's time you found out

that I'm not spending £200 a year in keeping you at Oxford

in order that you may learn to dance the, uh,

- bunny hop. - "Hug," Father.

The exact description of the contortion is immaterial.

I consider it disgraceful that a a 19-year-old boy

should be set an example in conduct and industry by his 12-year-old brother.

Oh, I see. So that's to be brought up again, is it?

Ronnie got into the navy, where I failed.

I suppose I'm not the first person to be misunderstood by his own family.

If you're going to your room, I suggest you take that object with you.

I'm terribly sorry.

- I'm afraid we're trespassing. - Oh, that's all right.

My name's Watherstone.

My father and I only moved in yesterday.

Yes, I know. We admired your sideboard very much.

Oh. Yes, it is rather nice.

I'd say you must have a great number of friends.

They're not all my friends, I'm afraid. I wish they were.

"Votes for women."

- Oh, a suffragette? - Yes, but don't look so alarmed.

I'm not the militant type. I won't chain myself to your railings.

The father's a retired colonel,

and he's in the Royal Artillery, a captain.

Goodbye.

Goodbye.

- Mother, can I come in now? - Yes, Ronnie, darling.

Arthur, remember, it's a surprise.

Father?

Not like that, Ronnie. Like this.

That's better.

That's the first thing they'll teach you when you get to Osborne. Turn round.

Makes quite the little naval officer, our Master Ronnie, doesn't he?

He is a naval officer, Violet. He is no longer our Master Ronnie

but Cadet Ronald Winslow, of Royal Navy.

Yes, I won't forget. I'll post it.

See you next year.

- Goodbye, my dearest. - Goodbye.

Well, goodbye, Ronnie.

You have a great chance. I know you won't let us down.

I won't, Father.

Dear Mother and Father,

I am well and happy but would like some more jam.

I scored a goal yesterday.

My chemistry's not too bad.

Thanks for the cake. Please send some more jam.

Dear Father, you will be getting my half-term report next week.

I've got my fingers crossed.

I miss you all very much and can count the days before the end of term.

Hurrah. Only 32 more to go.

I can tie 16 different kinds of knots.

Old Simpson says I can't draw a map for toffee. Silly old fool.

Dear Mother, please send some more jam.

Tell Kate I swapped my last pot of jam for a guinea pig.

I've called him Kate.

Only nine days, 17 hours

and 23 minutes before the end of term.

Your loving son, Ronnie.

You haven't forgotten John's coming at half past 12:00?

- Master Ronnie! - Hello, Violet.

Well, aren't you coming in?

We weren't expecting you back till Tuesday.

Yes, I know.

Why ever didn't you let us know you were coming, you silly boy?

Your mother should've been at the station to meet you.

- Where are they, Violet? - Church, of course.

Oh, yes. It's Sunday, isn't it?

What's the matter with you? What've they been doing to you at Osborne?

What do you mean?

Well, they seem to have made you a bit soft in the head or something.

Well?

Don't I get a kiss? Or are you too grown up for that now?

Sorry, Violet.

That's better.

- Where's your luggage? - Oh.

- They're-- They're sending it on later. - Oh.

Well, I must get these things dried. They'll be ever so pleased to see you.

♪ All things bright and beautiful ♪

♪ All creatures, great and small ♪

♪ All things wise and wonderful ♪

♪ The Lord God made them all ♪

♪ The rich man in his castle ♪

♪ The poor man at his gate ♪

♪ God made them high or lowly ♪

♪ And ordered their estate ♪

♪ All things bright and beautiful ♪

♪ All creatures, great and small ♪

You will see John in the study, dear, won't you?

- Yes. - He should be here at any moment.

I hope you've been primed, Father.

You're not going to let me down and forbid the match or anything, are you?

No fear, my dear. I'm much too keen of getting you off our hands at last.

I'm not sure I quite like that "at last."

That'll be John. Quick. In the conservatory.

Here. You've forgotten your bag.

- What on earth is going on here? - We're leaving you alone with John.

- When you're finished, cough or something. - What do you mean, "or something"?

Oh, I know. Knock on the floor with your stick three times.

Then we'll come in.

You don't think that that might look a trifle, uh, coincidental?

We'll be in here.

Captain Watherstone.

How are you, John? Forgive me for not getting up.

My arthritis has been troubling me rather a lot lately.

- I'm sorry to hear that, sir. - Sit down, won't you?

Well, now, I understand that--

Hmm. Will you be so good as to ring that bell?

- Thank you. Do you smoke? - Uh, yes, sir, I do.

Thank you. Uh, in moderation, of course.

Well, now.

I understand that you wish to marry my daughter.

Yes, sir. Of course, sir.

Why "of course"? There are plenty of people about who don't wish to marry her.

However, we'll not quibble about that.

I think we'll take the romantic side of the project for granted.

Now, as to the more practical aspect,

she is not, in case you should think otherwise, the daughter of a rich man.

I didn't think otherwise, sir.

Apart from a small pension, we have nothing,

except what I've managed to save during my career at the bank.

I propose to settle on her one sixth of my total capital.

That's very generous of you, sir.

Oh, it's not as generous as I would have liked to have been.

Now, about your own income-- Are you able to live on it?

- No, sir. I'm in the regular army. - Yes.

But my army pay is supplemented by an allowance from my father.

- You rang, sir? - Yes, Violet.

My compliments to Mr Dickie,

and if he does not stop that cacophonous hullaballoo at once,

I'll throw him and his infernal machine into the street.

Yes, sir.

What was that word again, sir? "Cac" something?

Never mind, never mind. Say what you like, only stop him.

Well, I'll do my best, sir.

- Excuse me, madam. - Where are you going, Violet?

I've got to stop Mr Dickie's c-c-- coff-- cac something.

Well, that all seems perfectly satisfactory.

Perfectly satisfactory.

I don't think I need to delay my congratulations any longer.

Thank you very much, sir.

Pretty rotten weather, isn't it, sir?

Yes, vile.

Would you care for another cigarette?

Uh, thank you, sir, I'm-I'm still smoking.

Yes.

Well, well. My wife and daughter in here, of all places.

Come in, Grace. Come in, Catherine. John's here.

Why, John. How nice.

Well?

- "Well" what? - How did your little talk go?

I understood that you were not supposed to know that we were having a little talk.

You know, you really are infuriating. Is everything all right, John?

I'm so glad. I really am.

- Thank you, Mrs Winslow. - May I kiss you?

After all, I'm practically your mother now.

By the same token, I'm practically your father, but if you will forgive me--

Certainly, sir.

Grace, I think this calls for a little modest celebration at luncheon.

- Where are the keys to the cellar? - I'll get them for you, dear.

Was it an ordeal?

I was scared to death.

Poor darling.

The annoying thing was, I had a whole lot of neatly turned phrases

ready for him, and he wouldn't let me use them.

Anything about loving me a little?

I thought we might take that for granted.

So did your father, incidentally.

Kate!

Ronnie!

- What on earth are you doing-- - Where's Father?

All right. All right, he's downstairs. I'll find him.

- No, don't. Please, Kate, don't! - What's the matter? You're wet through.

- You'd better go and change. - No.

What's the trouble, darling? You can tell me.

Oh, uh, shall I--

In the dining room. Now, darling, tell me, what is it?

Hmm? Did you run away?

What is it then?

Oh, this letter's addressed to Father. Did you open it?

- Yes. - You shouldn't have done that.

I was going to tear it up. Then I didn't know what to do.

- I see. - I didn't do it.

- Kate, I didn't. Really, I didn't. - No, darling.

No, darling, of course not.

- Kate, shall we tear it up now? - No, darling.

- We could tell Father term ended sooner. - No, darling.

Oh, hello, Ronnie, old man. How's everything?

Oh, trouble? Oh, I'm sorry.

- You stay here with him. I'll find Mother. - Oh, all right.

What's up, old chap?

- Nothing. - Oh, come on. You can tell me.

It's all right.

Have you been sacked? Oh, bad luck. What for?

Stealing.

Good Lord. I didn't know they sacked chaps for that these days.

- But I tell you-- - Why, at school,

we used to pinch everything we could lay our hands on, all of us.

I remember one chap, Carstairs-- captain of cricket, believe it or not.

Absolutely nothing was safe with him, nothing at all.

Pinched a squash racquet of mine once, I remember.

Oh, believe me, old chap, pinching's nothing, nothing at all.

There! It's all right now.

- I didn't do it, Mother. - No, darling. Of course you didn't.

We'll get out of these nasty, wet clothes now, shall we?

- You won't tell Father. Promise you won't! - No, darling. Not yet. I promise.

- I didn't do it. I promise! - Of course you didn't, dear.

If Father looks like coming up, for heaven's sake head him off.

I'll watch out for him.

Who's going to break the news to him eventually? Someone'll have to.

- Don't let's worry about that now. - Well, you can count me out.

I don't want to be within a thousand miles of that explosion.

Bad news?

How can people be so cruel?

Has he been expelled?

How little imagination some people have.

Why do they have to torture a child of that age? What's the point of it?

What's he supposed to have done?

- Stolen some money. - Oh.

Ten days ago, it said in the letter. Why on earth didn't they let us know?

- It does seem a bit heartless, I admit. - Heartless?

It's cold, calculated inhumanity.

Think what that poor creature's been through these past ten days down there.

Entirely alone, no one to look after him,

knowing what he had to face at the end of it.

Is it any wonder he's nearly out of his mind?

I'd like to have that commanding officer here for just two minutes. I'd--

Darling, it's quite natural you should be angry about it.

But you must remember, he's not really at school.

- He's in the navy. - What difference does that make?

Well, uh, they have ways of doing things in the service

which may seem to an outsider horribly brutal,

but at least they're always scrupulously fair.

Take it from me, there must have been a very full inquiry

before they'd take a step of this sort.

What's more, if there's been a ten-days delay,

it could only have been in order to give the boy a better chance to clear himself.

I'm sorry, Catherine. I'd have done better to keep my mouth shut.

No. What you said was perfectly true.

Forgive me?

There's nothing to forgive.

Grace, when did we last have the cellar looked at?

I don't know, dear.

I thought we'd try a little of the Madeira before lunch.

Yes, we must drink a toast to the, um-- to the, um--

"Happy pair," I believe is the phrase that is eluding you.

Well, as a matter of fact, I was looking for something new to say.

No one with the possible exception of Bernard Shaw could possibly find

anything new to say about an engaged couple.

Ah, Dickie, just in time to celebrate Catherine's engagement to John.

Oh, is that all finally spliced up now?

Kate definitely being entered to the marriage stakes, eh? Good egg.

Quite so. I should have added just now,

"No one with the possible exception of Bernard Shaw and Dickie Winslow."

Are we allowed to drink our own healths?

- Oh, I think it's permissible. - Oh, no. That's bad luck.

We defy it, don't we, Kate?

You mustn't say that, John, dear.

I know. You can drink each other's healths. That's all right.

- To John and Catherine. - John and Catherine.

Oh, Violet, you mustn't be left out. You must join in the toast.

Thank you, sir.

Not too much, sir. Just a sip.

Quite so. Your reluctance would be more convincing

if I hadn't noticed that you'd brought an extra glass.

I didn't bring it for meself, sir. I brought it for Master Ronnie.

Miss Kate, Mr John.

You brought it for Master Ronnie?

I thought you might allow him just a sip, sir, just to drink the toast.

He's that grown up these days.

But he's not due back from Osborne until Tuesday.

Oh, no, sir. He's back already. Came back unexpected this morning.

- All by himself. - No, no, Violet. That's not true.

Well, I saw him with me own two eyes, sir, as large as life,

just before you got in from church.

Then I heard Mrs Winslow talking to him in his room.

Grace, what does this mean?

Catherine, did you know that Ronnie was back?

Yes.

- Dickie? - Yes, Father.

Is the boy very ill?

Answer me, someone. If the boy's ill, I should be with him.

No, Father. He's not ill.

Will someone please tell me what has happened?

He brought this letter for you, Arthur.

Read it.

Arthur, not in front of--

Read it.

"Dear sir,

I am commanded by my lords commissioners of the admiralty to inform you

that they've received a communication from the commanding officer

of the Royal Naval College at Osborne

reporting the theft of a five-shilling postal order.

Investigation of the circumstances of the case

leaves no other conclusion possible

than that the postal order was taken by...

your son, Cadet Ronald Arthur Winslow.

My lords deeply regret that they must request you

to withdraw your son from the college."

It's signed by someone.

I can't quite read the name.

Violet, will you ask Master Ronnie to come down here, please?

Perhaps the rest of you will go to lunch. Grace, would you take them in?

Arthur, don't you think--

Dickie, will you please decant this bottle of claret?

Yes, Father.

Arthur, please don't--

please don't--

What mustn't I do?

Please don't forget he's only a child.

Give me that letter, please.

Come in.

Come in and shut the door.

Come over here.

Why aren't you in your uniform?

- It got wet. - How did it get wet?

It was out in the garden, in the rain.

Why?

I was hiding.

From me?

Don't you remember that promised me that if you ever got into trouble,

you would come to me first?

Yes, Father.

Why didn't you come to me now? Why did you have to hide in the garden?

I don't know.

Are you so frightened of me?

It says in this letter that you stole a postal order.

Now, I don't want to say a word until you've heard what I've got to say.

If you did it, you must tell me.

I shan't be angry with you, Ronnie, provided that you tell me the truth.

But if you tell me a lie, I shall know it.

Because a lie between you and me cannot be hidden.

I shall know it, Ronnie, so remember that before you speak.

Did you steal this postal order?

No, Father, I didn't.

Did you steal this postal order?

No, Father, I didn't.

Go on back to bed.

In future, I trust a son of mine will have at least enough sense

to come in out of the rain.

Yes, Father.

- Will you carve, dear? - Of course.

Forgive me for keeping you waiting. I'm Captain Flower.

- How do you do? - Won't you sit down?

Thank you.

I'm sorry you've given yourself the trouble of coming down here at all.

As I told you on the telephone,

I'm afraid there is so very little I can do to help you.

- There's so very little I want you to do. - Anything, of course.

Take my boy back.

That, I'm afraid, is quite impossible.

The discipline here is very strict, stricter than at a civilian school.

Of course, I can well understand that you, as the boy's father,

might think the stealing of five shillings a very trifling offence.

No, sir, I do not.

- I beg your pardon? - I consider it a very serious offence.

And anybody guilty of it should be expelled forthwith.

I see. You believe you boy to be innocent.

No, sir.

I know my boy to be innocent.

Mr Winslow, I assure you the evidence is irrefutable.

All the same, I intend to refute it.

What is the evidence?

That, I am not empowered to tell you, I'm afraid.

Who is your superior officer?

I am directly responsible to the lord commissioners of the admiralty.

I see.

To any lord in particular, or to all of Their Lordships?

Oh, well, I can easily find that out for myself.

Goodbye, sir.

Thank you for your courtesy.

- Good night, sir. - Good night, Violet.

- Hello, dear. - Hello.

Well? What happened?

Nothing much.

What are you going to do?

In the words of our prime minister, wait and see.

♪ La, la, la-la-la, la-la-la-la La-la-la-la-la-la-la ♪

♪ La, la, la-la-la, la-la-la-la La-la-la-la-la-la ♪

♪ I met Bertie Harkaway In the House of Lords today ♪

♪ Lilac waistcoat, grey top hat Oh, he looked extremely gay ♪

♪ I winked at Bertie, and I said "You're a naughty, naughty earl ♪

♪ Last night you left Romano's With a beautiful Danish girl ♪

♪ You gave a grab in a hansom cab And risked your prize away ♪

♪ Before you rise to make your speech ♪

♪ Oh, won't you tell us, pray ♪

♪ Who were you with last night? ♪

♪ Who were you with last night? ♪

♪ It wasn't your sister ♪

♪ It wasn't your ma ♪

♪ Who were you with last night ♪

♪ Out in the pale moonlight? ♪

♪ Are you going to tell your missus When you get home? ♪

- ♪ No! ♪ - ♪ Who were you with last night? ♪

♪ Are you going to tell your missus When you get home? ♪

- ♪ No! ♪ - ♪ Who were you with last night? ♪

It think he's extremely droll, don't you?

Oh, very. I remember Fred Leslie and Nellie Farren.

Oh, that was before my time.

- Can I get you anything, darling? - No, but you can help me with this.

Yes.

- Oh, heavens. Here's Desmond. - Who?

Desmond Curry, the family solicitor. Darling, be nice to him, won't you?

Why? Am I usually rude to your friends?

No, but he's been sort of fond of me for years. It's a family joke.

Hello, Desmond. Oh, this is the last place in the world I'd expect to find you.

As a matter of fact, it's our annual celebration of the cricket club.

I'm the treasurer.

I don't think you've met John Watherstone.

- No, but I've heard a lot about you. - How do you do?

I see from the Times I've got to congratulate you both.

- Thank you so much. - Of course, it was expected,

quite expected, but I was rather shocked to see it in cold print.

I do hope you'll both be very happy.

Thank you, Desmond.

Are you any relation of the DWH Curry who used to play for Middlesex?

- I am DWH Curry. - Gosh!

Oh, you used to be a schoolboy hero of mine.

Was I? Was I indeed?

DWH Curry in person. Well, I'd never have thought it.

Very few people would now, I'm afraid.

Oh, here's Mother. Desmond, we'll see you in the next interval?

- Of course. - Good.

- Hello, Desmond. - How do you do?

Uh, you know Colonel Watherstone? Mr Curry.

How do you do, sir?

Ah, Desmond. Just the man I want.

- I need your advice. - What, about those shares?

No, no, this is important.

I want you to draught a letter to the admiralty.

Are you conversant, sir, with the facts of this case?

Perfectly. I was briefed very fully only half an hour ago.

What do you want us to do about your son, Mr Winslow?

Give him a fair trial.

A civil trial or a court martial?

Either, provided he's given the opportunity to defend himself.

A court martial is out of the question on account of his age.

Then make it a civil trial.

Mr Curry has assures me there is a legal procedure by which--

There is no legal procedure

by which a servant of the king can sue the king.

- On the contrary, sir. - I am not talking solicitors' shop, sir.

I am talking facts.

Come, Mr Winslow. Be reasonable.

But don't you see?

If we allowed your boy to sue us,

we should create a precedent, a very dangerous precedent.

Dangerous to whom, sir?

To us, to the navy, to the country.

No, sir. The service has its own laws,

and we must abide by them and by no others.

I'm sorry, Mr Winslow, but we cannot allow you a civil trial.

Have you ever studied Magna Carta, sir?

Not very closely, I'm afraid. Have you?

Closely enough to know there's a clause which states

that no subject of the king may be condemned without a trial.

My son, I presume, is a subject of the king.

- Certainly. - He has been condemned without a trial.

From the purely civilian point of view, yes.

And from a purely civilian point of view,

I am going to fight you, sir,

and I'm going to win.

- Good afternoon, sir. - Good afternoon, Mr Winslow.

- I'm looking for Mr Hamilton. - Yes, sir.

My name is Winslow. I have an appointment with my member of parliament.

- Mr Hamilton. - Yes, sir.

Mr Hamilton is standing over there, sir. Just a moment, sir.

Oh, there's a Mr Winslow waiting to see you, sir.

He's over there.

Excuse me.

Mr Winslow, my name's Hamilton. How do you do?

- How do you do? My solicitor, Mr Curry. - How do you do?

I'm sorry I couldn't see you earlier,

but we've been working night and day these last weeks.

That National Health Insurance and all that, you know?

Now, come along and tell me what's it all about.

Well, it all started...

- I say. Jolly good. - Thank you, Dickie.

- Who taught you? John, I suppose. - No. I taught John, as it happens.

Oh, feminism, even in love?

Oh, hello, Father.

- Father, good news? - He's going to press for an inquiry.

- What you think will happen? - Who can tell?

Let us see democracy at work.

Is the right honourable gentleman aware that this matter is causing

the most violent feeling among poultry farmers all over the kingdom,

and is he or is he not prepared to do anything about it?

The answer to both parts of the question is in the negative.

Mr Hamilton?

Number 56, sir, to the first lord of the admiralty.

The case of this cadet has been thoroughly investigated by the admiralty,

who have come to the conclusion there are no grounds for reopening the matter.

Rising out of that that answer, might I ask the first lord whether he is aware

that this boy has been condemned without any trial of any kind,

and that therefore there has been a breach of Magna Carta?

I regret I can add nothing to what I have previously said.

The admiralty are quite satisfied that Cadet Onslow--

Winslow.

Cadet Winslow was guilty of a grave misdemeanour

and has been dealt with accordingly.

Without a trial? Disgraceful!

A very interesting letter here in the Times this morning

from the Bishop of Chichester.

- What about? - This Winslow business.

Oh, that. Personally, I think that fellow Winslow is a perfect fool.

I don't agree. Winslow is only doing what any father would do.

Nonsense. If he hadn't made such a fuss,

no one would ever have heard the name "Winslow."

The Evening News.

Mr Winslow?

Good afternoon.

You're surprised to see a lady reporter. I know. Everyone is.

And yet, why not? What could be more natural?

What, indeed?

Uh, won't you come in?

Yes. Thank you very much.

Now, what I'd really like to do

is to get a nice picture of your little boy.

I've brought my assistant and camera. They're in the hall.

- Where is your boy? - He should be here in a few minutes.

He came back from school yesterday. Won't you sit down?

Oh. Yes. Thank you very much.

From school. How interesting.

Oh, so you got a school to take him?

I mean, they didn't mind the unpleasantness?

- No. - And, uh, why is he coming back this time?

Well, he has not been expelled again, if that's what you're implying.

He is come to London to be examined by Sir Robert Morton,

who we are hoping to brief the case.

Sir Robert Morton! Well!

But do you really think he'll take a little case like this?

Madam, this is not a little case.

No, no. No, no, no. Of course not.

But still, Sir Robert Morton.

After all, he's the greatest barrister in the country.

- Well, he's certainly the most expensive. - Oh, yes.

I suppose if one is prepared to pay his fee,

one can get him for almost any case.

Madam, once more, this is not "almost any case."

No, no. No, no, no, no, no. Of course not.

Oh, what charming curtains.

- Well. Uh, what are they made of? - Hello, Father.

- Mind my leg. - Sorry, Father.

Ah. Now, that's exactly the way I'd like to take my picture.

Would you hold it, Mr Winslow? Hold it, my little man.

Excellent.

- Who is she? - Evening News.

Fred, will you come in now?

Afternoon, all.

Now, uh, that's the pose I suggest, Fred.

It'll do.

Grace, dear, this lady is from the Evening News.

She is extremely interested in your curtains.

- Really? How nice. - Yes, indeed.

- I was wondering what they were made of. - It's an entirely new material, you know.

- I'm afraid I don't know what it's called. - Ready, Miss Barnes.

Hmm. You'll be quite a famous little boy, won't you?

Especially if Sir Robert is going to take on your case.

Yes, splendid.

Yes, that's very nice.

The Winslow boy.

- That's the Winslow boy. - The Winslow boy.

Read all about the Winslow boy! Read all about the Winslow boy!

Good afternoon.

- Ah, Mr Curry. Good afternoon. - Good afternoon.

Sir Robert is still in court.

The verdict hasn't come through yet in the Rogers case.

- Oh, dear. - We're expecting him at any moment now.

The jury retired about an hour ago. Will you wait in Sir Robert's room?

Yes, thank you.

Of course, there can be only one verdict after the speech we made yesterday.

Yes, I read it. I should hate to have been the solicitor to the defence.

Do you think I ought to telephone Winslow and tell him Sir Robert won't be here?

I should wait a moment or two. Now, let me see.

We have Lord Cheviot at 5:00-- that won't take long--

and Mr Mayhew-- that's Mayhew, Saunderson and Saunderson.

Mr Mayhew's most anxious to brief us for the Imperial Copper case

against the Inland Revenue.

Then-- Oh, yes, yes, yes. We must look over our speech for tomorrow.

House of Commons. That's the Irish question.

Then we must go home and change.

- There might still be time. - Doesn't seem much hope.

Excuse me, will you?

Hello? Mm-hmm.

Oh, yes. Thank you very much. Goodbye.

The result will be through any moment now. It'll be well worthwhile your waiting.

- May I come in, dear? - Yes, Father. Come in.

- John is calling for you here, I take it. - Yes.

I think perhaps it might be better if you didn't ask him in.

Desmond has just telephoned that Sir Robert Morton is coming here.

Here? Why?

I don't know. He suggested it.

Have you seen this?

"Glen Rogers guilty.

Sir Robert Morton wins great legal battle."

Looks as if we picked a winner, doesn't it?

Mm.

Yes, I see that I am speaking only for myself in saying that.

Well, you know what I think of Sir Robert Morton, Father.

Don't let's go into it again now. It's too late anyway.

It's not too late. He hasn't accepted the brief yet.

Well, then, I'm rather afraid I hope he never does.

Well, I made inquiries about that fellow you suggested.

Desmond says he isn't in the same street as Morton.

Oh, he isn't nearly so fashionable.

Well, I want the best.

Well, the best in this case certainly isn't Morton.

Why does everyone say he is?

Because if you happen to be a large monopoly

attacking a trade union

or a Tory paper libelling a Labour leader, then he is the best.

But it defeats me how you or anybody else can expect a man of his record

to have even a tenth of his heart, if he has any heart,

in a case where the boot is entirely on the other foot.

I believe you're prejudiced because he spoke against women's suffrage.

Well, of course I am.

I'm prejudiced because he is always speaking against what's right and just.

Well, I have an instinct about Morton.

You're my only ally, Kate.

Without you, I should have given up long ago.

Oh, rubbish.

We'll see which is right, my instinct or your reason.

I'm afraid we will.

Arthur, I almost forgot.

- Your massage. - What about it?

You will have plenty of time before Sir Robert comes.

Here's the ointment.

No.

Darling, if you don't have one now, you won't be able to have another before bed.

- Precisely. - It does seem awfully silly

to spend all this money on doctors when you won't even do what they say.

- All right, all right, all right. - Thank you, dear.

- I say, you look stunning. - Thank you, Dickie.

Going on the razzle with John?

You must have second sight. There he is.

All right, Violet. It's only Mr Watherstone. I'll go.

John, you're late.

Oh.

Oh, I'm so sorry. I was expecting a friend.

- Good evening. - Good evening.

Oh, Miss Winslow, Sir Robert Morton.

Please come in.

Won't you sit down, Sir Robert? My father won't be long.

Thank you.

- Won't you sit here? It's comfortable. - No, thank you.

Sir Robert has a most important dinner appointment, so we came a little early.

I'm afraid he can only spare a very few minutes of his most valuable time.

It's a long way for him to come. So far from his chambers.

Very good of him to do it, if I may say so.

I know. I can assure you we're very conscious of it.

Shall I advise your father of our presence?

Yes do, Desmond.

You'll find him in his bedroom having his back rubbed.

Thank you.

Is there anything I can get you, Sir Robert?

A glass of sherry or whisky and soda?

No, thank you.

- Will you smoke? - No, thank you.

- I hope you don't mind if I do. - Why should I?

Many people find it quite shocking.

A lady is surely entitled to behave as she pleases in her own home.

- Won't you take your coat off, Sir Robert? - No, thank you.

You'll find it cold here. I'm sorry.

It's perfectly all right.

At what time are you dining?

- At half past 8:00. - Far from here?

- Devonshire House. - Oh.

Then of course you mustn't on any account be late.

No.

I expect you know the history of this case, don't you, Sir Robert?

I believe I have seen most of the relevant documents.

Do you think we can bring it into court by a collusive action?

I have really no idea.

Curry and Curry seem to think that might hold.

Do they, really? They are a very reliable firm.

I-- I am rather surprised

that a case of this sort should interest you, Sir Robert.

- Are you? - Yes, it seems such a trivial affair

compared to most of your great triumphs.

I was in court yesterday during your cross-examination of Len Rogers.

Oh, yes.

- It was masterly. - Thank you.

The verdict must've pleased you enormously.

- Three years' hard labour. - Yes.

Many people believe him to be innocent, you know.

So I believe.

As it happens, however, he was guilty.

Oh, Sir Robert.

My husband's so sorry to have kept you. He's just coming.

- Perfectly all right. How do you do? - Sir Robert is dining at Devonshire House.

Oh, really? Then you have to be punctual, of course. I do see that.

Here is my husband. I hope Catherine entertained you all right.

Oh, very well, thank you.

Sir Robert?

- I'm Arthur Winslow. - How do you do?

I understand that you're pressed for time.

Yes. He's dining at the Duchess of Devonshire's.

Is he indeed?

My son should be down in a minute. I expect you'll want to examine him.

A few questions, perhaps. I fear that's all I'll have time for this evening.

Oh, I'm sorry to hear that.

He's come down from school specially for this interview, and I was hoping

that by the end I should know definitely yes or no if you would accept the brief.

Perhaps Sir Robert would consent to finish the examination some other time.

- It might be arranged. - Tomorrow?

Tomorrow's impossible. I'm in court all morning

and in the House of Commons for the rest of the day.

If a further examination should prove necessary,

it'll have to be one day next week.

I see.

- Will you forgive me if I sit down? - Oh, please.

Curry tells me you think we can proceed by a petition of right.

What is a petition of right?

Granting the assumption that the admiralty, as the king, can do no wrong.

I thought that was exactly the assumption we refused to grant.

Only in law, I mean.

A subject can sue the king by petition of right,

and it's the custom for the attorney general, on behalf of the king,

to endorse the petition and allow the case to come to court.

It is interesting to note that the exact words he uses on such occasions are,

"Let right be done."

"Let right be done." I like that phrase, sir.

It has a certain ring about it, hasn't it? "Let right be done."

Come in, Ronnie. Shut the door.

This is my son, Ronald.

- Ronnie, this is Sir Robert Morton. - How do you do, sir?

He will ask you a few questions, which you will answer truthfully,

as you always have.

- I expect you would like us to leave. - No, no.

Provided, of course, that you don't interrupt. Do sit down.

Now, Ronald, come over here with me.

Will you stand at the table, facing me?

That's right. Oh, thank you.

- Now, how old are you? - Thirteen and four months.

You were then 12 and ten months old when you left Osborne.

- Is that right? - Yes, sir.

Now, I'd like you to cast your mind back to December 17 of last year.

I want you to tell me in your own words exactly what happened to you on that day.

All right. Well, it was a half-holiday, so we didn't have any work after dinner.

Dinner at half past 12:00?

- Yes. At least, until prep at 7:00. - Prep at 7:00, yes.

Just before dinner, I went to the chief petty officer

and asked him to let me have 15 and six out of what I had in the college bank.

Why did you do that?

I wanted to buy an air pistol.

- Which cost 15 and six? - Yes, sir.

And how much money did you have in the college bank at the time?

Two pounds, three shillings.

So what possible incentive could there be to make him steal five shillings?

I must ask you to be good enough not to interrupt me, sir.

Now, Ronnie, after you had withdrawn the 15 and six, what did you do?

- I had dinner. - And then what?

I went down to the locker room and put the 15 and six in my locker.

Yes. Then?

I went to get permission to go down to the post office.

I went back to the locker room, got out the money,

and went down to the post office.

- Yes. Go on. - I bought my postal order.

- For 15 and six? - Yes.

Then I met Elliot Minor, and he said,

"I say, isn't it rot?

Somebody's broken into my locker and pinched a postal order.

I've reported it to the PO."

Were those Elliott Minor's exact words?

Well, he might have used another word for "rot."

I see. Continue.

Well, then, just before prep, I was told to go along and see Captain Flower.

The woman from the post office was there, and the captain said, "Is this the boy?"

and she said, "It might be.

I can't be sure. They all look so much alike".

You see? She couldn't identify him.

- Go on, Ronnie. - Then she said,

"I only know that the boy who bought a postal order for 15 and six

was the same boy that cashed one for five shillings."

So the captain asked me if I'd bought a postal order for 15 and six,

and I said yes.

Then they made me write Elliot Minor's name on an envelope

and compared it with the signature on the postal order.

Then they sent me to the sanatorium,

and ten days later I was sacked-- I mean, expelled.

Right.

Now, when the captain asked you to write Elliot's name on the envelope,

how did you write it-- with a Christian name or initials?

I wrote "Charles K Elliot."

Charles K Elliot. Did you by any chance

happen to see the forged postal order in the captain's office?

Oh, yes. The captain showed it to me.

Before or after you'd written Elliot's name on the envelope?

- After. - After.

Did you happen to see how Elliot's name was written on the postal order?

- Yes, sir. The same. - The same? Charles K Elliot?

Yes, sir.

Now, when you wrote the name on the envelope,

what made you choose that particular form?

That was the way he usually signed his name.

How did you know?

- Well, he was a great friend of mine. - That is no answer. How did you know?

- I'd seen him sign things. - What things?

Oh, ordinary things.

- I repeat: What things? - Bits of paper.

Bits of paper? Why did he sign his name on bits of paper?

- I don't know. - You do know.

Why did he sign his name on bits of paper?

- He was practising his signature. - And you saw him?

- Yes. - Did he know that you saw him?

- Well, yes. - In other words,

he showed you exactly how he wrote his signature.

Yes, I suppose he did.

- Did you practise writing it yourself? - I might have done.

What do you mean, you might have done? Did you or did you not?

- Yes. - Ronnie, you never told me that.

- It was only for a joke. - Never mind whether it was for a joke.

The fact is you practised forging Elliot's signature.

- It wasn't forging. - What do you call it then?

- Writing. - Very well, then. Writing.

Whoever stole the postal order also wrote Elliot's signature, didn't he?

- Yes. - And oddly enough, in the exact form

in which you had earlier been practising writing Elliot's signature.

- I say, who's side are you on? - Quiet! Don't be impertinent!

Are you aware that the admiralty sent the postal order

to Mr Ridgeley-Pierce, the greatest handwriting expert in the country?

- Yes. - And you know that Mr Ridgeley-Pierce

affirmed that there was no doubt that the signature on the postal order

and the signature you wrote on the envelope

- were by one and the same hand? - Yes.

Yet you still say you didn't forge that signature?

- Yes, I do. - In other words,

Mr Ridgeley-Pierce doesn't know his job.

Well, he was wrong anyway.

Now, when you went into the locker room after dinner, were you alone?

- I don't remember. - I think you do.

Were you alone in the locker room?

- Yes. - And you knew which was Elliot's locker?

- Yes, of course. - Why do you go in there at all?

I've told you: to put my 15 and six away.

What did you do after leaving the locker room?

I've told you. I went to get permission to go to the post office.

- What time was that? - About a quarter to 2:00.

Dinner is over at a quarter past 1:00,

which means that you were in the locker room for half an hour.

- I wasn't there all that time. - How long were you there?

- About five minutes. - What were you doing for the other 25?

I don't remember.

It's odd that your memory is so good about some things and so bad about others.

Perhaps I waited outside the CO's office.

Perhaps you waited outside the CO's office.

- And perhaps no one saw you there either. - No, I don't think they did.

What were you thinking about outside CO's office for 25 minutes?

I don't even know if I was there.

I can't remember. Perhaps I wasn't there at all.

No! Perhaps you were still in the locker room, rifling Elliot's locker!

- Sir Robert, I must ask you-- - Quiet!

I remember now. Someone did see me outside the CO's office.

- A chap called Casey. I spoke to him. - What did you say?

"Come down to the post office with me. I'm going to cash a postal order."

- Cash a postal order? - I mean "get."

You said "cash." Why did you say"cash" if you meant "get"?

- I don't know! - I suggest "cash" was the truth.

No, no! It wasn't, really. You're muddling me.

You seem easily muddled. How many other lies have you told?

- None. Really, I haven't. - I suggest your whole testimony is a lie.

- No! It's the truth! - I suggest there is barely

one single word of truth in anything you have said,

either to me or to the judge advocate or to the captain.

I suggest that you broke into Elliot's locker,

that you stole the postal order for five shillings belonging to Elliot,

and that you cashed it by forging Elliot's name!

- No, no, no! It isn't true! - Furthermore,

I suggest that by continuing to deny your guilt,

you're causing great hardship to your own family

and considerable annoyance to high and important persons in this country.

- That's a disgraceful thing to say! - I suggest that the time has at last come

for you to undo some of the misery you've caused

by confessing to us all now

that you are a forger, a liar and a thief!

I'm not! I'm not! I didn't do it! I didn't!

- This is outrageous! - I didn't do it!

I didn't do it. I didn't.

Can I give you a lift? My car's at the door.

No, thank you.

Send all this stuff round to my chambers tomorrow morning, will you?

- Will you need it now? - Need it? Of course.

The boy is plainly innocent. I accept the brief. Good night.

Curry and Curry: £75 pounds, 13 and fourpence.

Altogether: 627 pounds, three shillings and tuppence.

Your solicitors' bills alone amount to £324.

Lot of good money thrown away there.

My dear Winslow, I never thought the time would come

when I should have to speak like this to you, of all people.

You, who sat in that chair for ten years

offering sound advice on caution and common sense.

But I must point out that your overdraft is well over the agreed limit.

And you have no further securities, have you?

I'm afraid if you really intend to proceed with this case,

you'll be making things pretty uncomfortable for yourself.

Have to cut down on every little expense absolutely ruthlessly.

I know.

My dear fellow, take the advice of an old friend.

Think twice before you waste another penny.

Grazie, signore.

Dickie...

I want to ask you a question, but before I do so,

I want to impress upon you the urgent necessity

for an absolutely truthful answer.

Oh, naturally.

Naturally means "by nature,"

and I've not noticed it has been your nature to answer my questions truthfully.

Oh.

Well, I will this one, Father, I promise.

Very well.

What would you say one of your bookmaker friends would be prepared to lay

in the way of odds against your getting a degree?

I say, you don't want to make a bet, do you?

No, Dickie. I'm not a gambler. And that's exactly the trouble.

I'm no longer in a position to gamble £200 a year on an outside chance.

Oh, not an outside chance. Rather a good chance.

Not good enough, Dickie.

With things as they are at the moment, definitely not good enough.

I fear my mind is finally made up.

You want me to leave Oxford, is that it?

I'm afraid so, Dickie.

I'll get you a job at the bank.

Oh, law.

Father, if I promised you that from now on I'll--

I mean--

Well, isn't there any way?

Oh, law.

Afraid this has been rather a shock for you, Dickie.

What? No. No, it isn't, really.

I've been rather expecting it, as a matter of fact,

especially since I've heard you managed to brief Sir Robert Morton.

Still, I-I can't say but what it hasn't been a bit of a...

slap in the face.

I must thank you, Dickie, for bearing what must've been a bitter blow

with some fortitude.

Well, it was a grand game. Thank you very much.

Most enjoyable.

- Excuse me a moment. - Certainly.

Ah, my dear Morton. The very man I wanted to see.

My dear First Lord, how's your game these days?

Pretty good. I'm trying out a new grip. It's literally revolutionised my game.

Literally? Oh, I'm glad to hear that. We must have a round sometime.

Yes, we must.

Now, listen, Morton, you'll receive an official letter from us tomorrow,

but I thought I'd like to let you know beforehand,

I'm afraid we've had to turn down your petition of right in the Winslow case.

- Indeed? - I advised the attorney general to do so.

The last occasion in which a petition of right was demurred to

was, uh, in the reign of William and Mary.

Oh, yes, I know it's seldom done, but this matter is not so unimportant

as you appear to imagine.

- Unimportant? - To allow Winslow to sue us

in the person of the king would raise the most dangerous precedence.

Now, my dear fellow, I advise you to drop this-this senseless flummery,

for your own sake as well as for ours.

Something tells me that you may hear a great deal more

of this senseless flummery.

Now, when shall we have our round?

♪ Just you wait and see ♪

♪ Don't be impatient Just wait and see ♪

♪ Asquith was asked What was his policy? ♪

♪ He said, "Wait and see" ♪

♪ He said, "Wait and see" ♪

Now, then, any other topics?

What's that, madam? Eh? The suffragettes?

With pleasure, madam. Here goes.

♪ Just you wait and see ♪

♪ The suffragettes won't let the government be ♪

♪ They want the franchise No wonder a man shies ♪

♪ Just you wait and see ♪

♪ Just you wait and see ♪

Now, then, give me another topic.

- The Winslow boy! - What's that?

The Winslow boy!

The Winslow boy! The Winslow boy!

Oh, yes. We must have that.

♪ Just you wait and see ♪

♪ Why Winslow was treated so shamefully ♪

♪ Will they burn their boats at the admiralty? ♪

♪ Just you wait and see ♪

Really, the name of Winslow is becoming a nationwide laughingstock.

- Father. - Anything else?

Anything you like. Yes? What, sir?

- The aeroplanes. - Yes, sir.

- Good night, madam. - Good night, Violet.

- Good night, sir. - Good night, Violet.

Have you spoken to her yet, Grace?

No, dear. Not yet.

I'm sure if you explain our position, even show her the figures

I jotted down for you yesterday, she'll understand.

I don't mind how many figures you've jotted down.

She's been with us so long. It's a brutal thing to do.

- Facts are brutal things. - Facts?

I don't think I know what facts are anymore.

The facts at the moment are that we are getting about half the income

that we had a year ago, and we're living at the same rate.

- That's bad economics, Grace. - I'm not talking about economics.

I'm talking about ordinary, common or garden facts,

things we took for granted a year ago which now don't seem to matter anymore.

- Such as? - Such as peace and quiet

and an ordinary, respectable life,

some sort of future for us and our children.

A happy home, Arthur.

A happy home.

But you've thrown all that overboard.

I can only pray to God you know what you're doing.

I know exactly what I'm doing, Grace.

I'm going to publish my son's innocence before the world.

You talk about sacrificing everything for him.

But when he's grown up,

he won't thank you for it, Arthur,

even though you've given your life to publish his innocence, as you call it.

Yes, Arthur. Your life.

You talk gaily about arthritis and a touch of gout and old age and the rest of it,

but you know as well as any of the doctors what's really the matter with you.

You're destroying yourself, Arthur, and me, and your family.

And for what, I'd like to know.

For what, Arthur?

For justice, Grace.

Are you sure it isn't just plain pride and self-importance

and sheer, brute stubbornness?

John...

do you really want to marry me?

What?

I said, do you really want to marry me?

But of course I do. You know I do.

Why, we've been engaged for over a year now.

- Have I ever wavered? - No, never before.

But I'm not wavering now. Not a bit. It's only that--

Hello, Kate. Hello, John.

Good night, Kate.

Good night, John.

Good night, Dickie.

- Trouble between you and John? - Oh, not really.

You're not going to be left on the altar rails, are you?

I'll get him past the altar rails if I have to drag him there.

- Do you think you might have to? - Quite frankly, yes.

- Oh. It's the case, I suppose. - In a way.

My gosh. I could just about murder that little brother of mine.

What's he have to go about pinching postal orders for?

And why the dickens did he ever get himself nabbed doing it?

- Good night, Dickie. - Silly little blighter.

Good night, Mother. Good night, Father.

Good night, dear.

Father. You ought to be in bed.

- Kate, are we both mad? - What's the matter, Father?

Oh, I don't know.

Suddenly I feel suicidally inclined.

Should we drop the whole thing, Kate?

I don't consider that a serious question, Father.

You realize that if we go on, your marriage settlement will have to go?

Oh, I gave that up for lost weeks ago.

As a matter of fact, I've been thinking of trying to get some paid work.

What could you do?

I could address envelopes.

Things are all right between you and John, aren't they?

Yes, Father, of course. Everything's perfect.

This won't make any difference between you?

Good heavens, no.

Very well.

Weeks go by, and... nothing seems to happen.

Good shot.

- A trifle pulled. - Yes.

However--

I'm most interested to see this new grip of yours.

Oh, it's perfectly simple, my dear fellow. Watch.

Oh, by the way, I meant to ask you--

that Winslow case...

I'm so sorry.

- Ah! - Did I put you off?

No, no. Not at all. Niblick.

What about the Winslow case?

What does the government intend to do about it?

- Nothing, I told you. - I should have thought

the very least they could do would be have a debate about it in the House.

A debate is out of the question.

Nonetheless, I intend to press for one.

- You'll be wasting your time. - Time doesn't worry me.

"The Winslow boy debate today."

A fine, old rumpus that is, sir, and no mistake.

As you say, Violet, a fine, old rumpus.

The was a lovely bit about it in my paper, sir.

How that it was a fuss about nothing

and a shocking waste of the government's time,

but how it was a good thing all the same because it could only happen in England.

There seems a certain lack of logic in that argument.

Well, they may have put it a bit different, sir.

Still, that's what it said, all right.

And when you think it's all because of our Master Ronnie,

I have to laugh about it sometimes, I really do.

- Wasting the government's time at his age. - I never did.

Well, wonders will never cease.

As you say, wonders will never cease.

Violet...

how long have you been with us?

Twenty-four years come April, sir.

- As long as that? - Yes sir.

Miss Kate was that high when I first came,

and Mr Dickie hadn't even been thought of.

I remember your coming to us, Violet.

I remember it very well.

Things are a bit different now, aren't they, sir?

Mr Dickie living all on his own in Reading.

Miss Kate getting married.

It's no good shirking the fact, Kate.

The old man's pretty worked up about this debate.

Yes, well, so are a lot of people, John. I am, for one.

Yes, but he doesn't see why there should be a debate at all.

I must say, with a European war blowing up,

a coal strike on, and a fair chance of civil war in Ireland,

it does seem odd that the House of Commons should have to take a whole day

to discuss your young brother and his bally postal order.

All I can say is, John, that if the day ever comes that the House of Commons

has so much on its mind that it can't find time to discuss

a Ronnie Winslow and his... bally postal order,

this country will be a far poorer place than it is today.

I wish I could see this thing in your light, Kate.

I know it's awfully important for you to establish Ronnie's innocence, but--

- Oh, that's not important to me, John. - What?

That's what's important to my father. It's not to me.

All I care about is that people should know that

a government department has ignored a fundamental human right,

and that it should be forced to acknowledge it.

That's all that's important to me.

And it is... terribly important.

Kate. Kate? It's time we were going.

All right, Father. I'm ready.

There are three more reporters outside, sir.

Want to see you very urgently. Shall I let them in?

Certainly not. I made a statement yesterday.

Until the debate is over, I have nothing more to say.

Yes, sir. That's what I told them, but they wouldn't go.

Well, make them. If necessary, use force.

Yes, sir.

- Are you quite sure you're well enough? - Of course I am.

No more statements! No more statements!

I did it! Oh, and this letter. I nearly forgot.

- Came for you just now, sir. - Open it for me, Kate.

What is it?

Give me that letter, Kate.

No, Father. Not now.

I'm afraid, Kate, this must be the end.

- No, Father. We've got to go on. - It's not just this letter, Kate.

I can't go on sacrificing other people's happiness.

We'll talk about it on the way.

What is the motion?

To reduce the first lord's salary by £10.

Capital idea. Capital. But what's all the fuss about?

Oh, some jiggery-pokery of that fellow Morton's to discredit the government.

- Can't abide the fellow. - No. Vicious sort of devil.

Have you got the Times? Where's the Times?

- Here it is. - Ah.

Oh.

There's a gentleman to see you, sir, a Mr Winslow.

Thank you.

Sir Robert,

whatever the result of the debate, I must ask you to drop this case.

- What has happened? - I've made many sacrifices for it.

Some I had no right to make, but nonetheless, I made them.

- There's a limit, and I have reached it. - What has happened?

I'm sorry, Sir Robert, more sorry than you, perhaps,

but the Winslow case is closed.

Balderdash!

My father doesn't mean what he's been saying, Sir Robert.

I think I should tell you that he's had a letter...

- No, Catherine. - ...from the father of the man

that I'm engaged to saying that if we go on,

he'll use every influence he has to prevent his son from marrying me.

I see. An ultimatum.

Yes, but a pointless one.

He has no influence over his son?

A little, of course, but John's of age and his own master.

I see.

Well, sir?

I cannot go back on anything that I have already said.

Your daughter seems prepared to take the risk.

How do you estimate the risk, Miss Winslow?

Negligible.

I must apologise, sir, for speaking to you as I did just now. It was unforgivable.

Not at all. You were upset at giving up the case. To be frank, I liked you for it.

The House of Commons is a peculiarly trying place, you know?

Too little ventilation and far too much hot air.

- I really am most awfully sorry. - Please.

That's a most charming hat, Miss Winslow.

- I'm glad you like it. - It seems decidedly wrong to me

that a lady of your political persuasion should be allowed

to adorn herself with such a truly feminine adornment.

It looks awfully like trying to have the best of both worlds.

Yes, but then I'm not a militant, you know, Sir Robert.

I don't go about throwing bricks in shop windows

and making speeches from soap boxes.

I'm very glad to hear it.

Both those activities would be highly unsuitable in that hat.

Well, I hope that what my father has just said

won't prevent you from making your speech, Sir Robert.

After all, the principle is still involved.

- What principle? - The principle of right and wrong.

Oh.

Uh, quite, quite.

Excuse me. The debate's started. Mr Hamilton is on his feet.

Thank you. Excuse me.

I must thank you, Sir Robert, for all that you've done for us.

I hope you don't blame me, but I must confess to a certain feeling of relief

that after today, we shall hear no more of the Winslow boy.

Oh? Do you really think so?

Harris has a duty to his constituents.

How can I be expected to face mine when I know that unfair treatment

has been meted out by the bureaucrats in charge of a government department?

Well, he has been, uh, to coin a phrase,

bludgeoned and obstructed at every step.

The high-handed attitude of the government

in trying to prevent the Winslow case

from, uh, coming before the courts

on the grounds of immunity of the Crown

is indefensible.

How else can the first lord explain

those pettifogging devices,

the mounting demerits,

in reply to my repeated requests

for nothing more and nothing less than justice?

In the course of a long experience of government departments,

I never known

a more heart-rending example of indifference

to the great principles of English justice.

The right honourable gentleman must reconsider his position

for the sake of his own reputation,

as well as for the paramount reason

that never was a English boy

submitted to treatment so cruel.

I gaze round the front bench of the government,

and what do I see?

Despots.

You may laugh.

But how else would any right-thinking person

describe the callous-- nay, inhuman--

conduct of the admiralty?

The honourable member for Wimbledon has made great play

with his eloquent references to despotism and justice.

But I should like to point out that the admiralty,

during the whole of this long, drawn-out dispute,

have at no time acted hastily or ill-advisably,

and it is a matter of mere histrionic hyperbole

for the honourable gentleman to characterise the conduct

of my department as inhuman

and amounting to deliberate malice towards the boy Winslow.

Such unfounded accusations I can well choose to ignore.

What about the petition of right?

He should have the same opportunity as anyone else.

Chief criticism against the admiralty

appears to centre on the purely legal question

of the petition of right brought by Mr Arthur Winslow

and the admiralty's demurrer thereto.

There is no doubt whatever in my mind that in certain cases,

private rights may have to be sacrificed for the public good.

And moreover--

His Majesty's government cannot be and will not be expected

to yield to threats and grandiloquent gestures

from any source whatsoever.

Morton, why on earth didn't you speak?

My dear Hamilton, the House is in no mood to listen to reason.

But aren't you going to speak at all?

- Are you all right, Father? - Yes, I'm all right.

Well, so much for right and wrong. So much for Sir Robert Morton.

Well, my dear, I did rather spade on him, didn't I?

Dear Father, that's not the point.

The point is, he didn't make the speech.

He got out of it in a most magnificently dramatic way.

I admire his acting. If I hadn't known, I could've sworn he was really indignant.

Of course he was indignant. Any man of feeling would be.

Sir Robert, Father dear, is not a man of feeling.

I don't think any emotion at all can stir that fishy heart.

Except perhaps a single-minded love of justice.

A single-minded love of Sir Robert Morton.

- Well, what's happening? - Admiral Westmacott's still on his feet,

still saying precisely nothing.

So, the debate continues.

Why, Sir Robert.

- Yes? - I've never seen you smoke before.

Oh, yes. I do sometimes,

on very special occasions.

Here's the latest one.

- Anything in it? - No, nothing.

The debate continues.

Oh, that'll be John.

My father's just told me about his letter.

I'm awfully sorry. I hope you don't think--

Oh, darling, that's perfectly all right. I know you had nothing to do with it.

I must say, it was pretty high-handed of the old man.

- High-handed? - I told him so too.

- We had quite a row about it. - Oh, darling.

The awful thing is, he's perfectly serious.

If your father decides to go on with the case,

he'll do everything he threatens.

Yes, but aren't they rather empty threats, John?

Well, you see, darling, there's always the allowance.

Oh, yes. I see.

There's always the allowance.

What's your father going to do?

Throw up the case.

Oh, my darling, I'm so glad.

I knew nothing so stupid and trivial could possibly come between us.

With the barricades going up in the streets of Dublin this very minute,

with the whole country trembling on the abyss of civil war,

you waste the whole day, on what?

Morton's up, I see.

- Who's up? - Morton.

I must hear this.

What has this puny little affair of a 14-year-old schoolboy

and the alleged theft of a paltry sum of five shillings,

what has this to do with such grave matters as our rights and liberties?

What indeed?

Well, what has this to do with our rights and liberties?

- Hear, hear. - Only this.

Once allowed through indifference,

one act of injustice, and by degrees,

the slow poison of indifference by being convenient,

may cripple and destroy those rights and liberties.

- Hear, hear. - It matters not

whether the Winslow case is about a 14-year-old schoolboy

or the oldest pensioner in the kingdom

or the most distinguished of the right honourable gentlemen opposite.

Which of the distinguished gentlemen opposite?

Nay!

It matters not if the sum involved is five shillings, five pence,

or the 50th part of the smallest fraction of a farthing.

It matters not one single jot,

for the case of the Winslow boy is none of these things.

Tell us!

It is not Winslow's guilt

or Winslow's innocence that concerns us now.

It is something greater by far.

It is Winslow's right as a common citizen of England to be heard,

to be heard in defence of his honour, so wantonly pitched into the mire

because of this monstrous assumption by His Majesty's government--

this mediaeval and monstrous assumption

that the king can do wrong.

Hear, hear!

And to maintain the common rights of Winslow against the king,

I will fight to the last breath in my body and the last drop of my blood.

And I believe, with all my heart,

that this House will accept my view

that there is only one course left open to the government.

Namely this:

Let them not rest

till the attorney general has endorsed Mr Winslow's petition

with the time-honoured phrase,

the phrase that has always stirred an Englishman

and I hope always will stir him,

wherever he may be--

in his castle, in his backyard...

or in the humblest little public house

at the corner of the humblest little street:

"Let right be done."

Grand speech, Robert, me boy!

The admiralty cannot go back on the decision it has already taken.

I therefore propose...

There's a specimen of English justice!

That's no answer! That's no answer!

But are you sure, absolutely sure,

that you've considered every aspect of the situation?

- I have. - This is grave news indeed.

Sir Robert must've been bitterly disappointed.

After all, he put his whole heart and soul into the case.

My dear Desmond, Sir Robert has no heart and no soul.

The man is a fish.

A hard, cold-blooded, sneering, supercilious fish.

Sir Robert Morton.

- Something gone down the wrong way? - Yes.

May I assist?

- Thank you. - Good evening, sir.

I thought I'd call and give you an account of the day's proceedings.

Can we offer you some refreshment, Sir Robert? A whisky and soda?

- Oh, no, thank you. - We admired your exit. It was magnificent.

Very good of you to say so. It's a very old trick, you know.

I've used it many times in the courts. It's nearly always surprisingly effective.

I don't think you've met my fiancé, John Watherstone.

- Sir Robert Morton. - No, I haven't. How do you do, sir?

May I offer you my very belated congratulations?

Of course. Thank you very much.

How delicious. May I help myself? Thank you.

There's been a most surprising development in the House, sir.

A certain barrister who happened to be interested in the case

suddenly got on his feet about ten past 9:00

and delivered one of the most scathing denunciations

of a government department ever heard in the House.

His style was quite superb. What a pity you missed it.

- And the debate? - The debate, of course, revived,

and the first lord suddenly found himself under attack from all parts of the House.

Rather than risk a division,

he has given an undertaking

that he will instruct the attorney general

to endorse our petition of right.

The case of Winslow against the king, therefore...

can now come to court.

Well, sir?

Does your decision still stand?

The decision, sir, is no longer mine.

You must ask my daughter.

What are my instructions, Miss Winslow?

Do you need my instructions, Sir Robert?

Aren't they already on the petition? Doesn't it say...

"Let right be done"?

Kate!

Very well, then.

We must endeavour to see that right is done.

Is there a case today?

Is there a case today?

Silence.

- Who's that? - That's the new lord chief justice.

Winslow against the king.

May it please Your Lordship and members of the jury,

this is a bill of rights brought by Mr Arthur Winslow

of Balmoral Avenue, Wimbledon,

claiming damages for unlawfully requiring him to withdraw his son,

Ronald Arthur Winslow, from the Royal Naval College, Osborne,

in breach of contract by the admiralty.

In their defence, the respondents deny any breach of contract.

They contend that they had a discretion in the matter,

which has been duly exercised:

that the suppliant son had been guilty of misconduct

and also demurred the petition of right,

which has now been granted and is before the court.

May it please Your Lordship, members of the jury,

in this case, in which my learned junior, Mr Saunders,

has opened the issues to you,

I appear with him and Mr Harris for the plaintiff,

and defence is represented by my learned friends

the attorney general, Mr Simmons and Mr Burns.

Before I begin, I think I should tell Your Lordship,

in view of the very exacting nature of this case

and the fact that it is, I understand, likely to last

as many as four or more days,

that it is possible that I may at some later stage

have to beg for an adjournment.

Indeed, Sir Robert? And why is that?

I have not been in the best of health lately, milord,

and although I cannot expect my health to be a matter

of urgent moment to my learned friend,

I may have to beg his kind consideration

should it, at a later stage, fail me.

Milord, gentlemen of the jury,

nearly two years ago, on December 17,

Cadet Ronald Arthur Winslow was summoned

to his commanding officer's room.

Hold the testament in your right hand and repeat after me.

I swear by Almighty God that the evidence I shall give

shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

You said, I think, that your relations with the boy Elliot were very friendly.

Yes, sir, they were.

Now, at dinnertime, you sat next to Elliot.

- Yes, sir. - What did you talk about?

Well, Elliot was telling me how Old Blossom--

I-I mean, Captain Flower--

had given him an awful time in navigation class that morning.

Winslow boy in witness box! Paper, sir?

Winslow case! Read all about it!

- Here you are, Kate. - Thank you, Mother.

No coffee for you, Ronnie.

Violet's going to bring you up some nice, hot milk.

- Yes, off to bed with you, my boy. - Not yet, Father.

Certainly. You have to face the attorney general again tomorrow.

You'll need all your wits about you, such as they are.

Oh, that's all right. The old boy can't cross-examine for toffee.

Don't holler till you're out of the woods. Take him up to bed, Grace.

- Come on, darling. - Good night, Father.

Mm-hmm.

Did you see in the Times today about John's engagement, Father?

Yes, Kate. I hoped you hadn't seen it.

Oh, yes. Oh, it was to be expected, you know.

As Desmond would say, "Quite expected."

Still, seeing it like that in cold print, it was rather...

I'm sorry, Kate.

I met her once, as a matter of fact. She's a general's daughter.

Mm. Most suitable.

- Come on, Father. Up to bed too. - Ah, wait a minute.

I think Ronnie did rather well today, don't you?

Yes, but I'm not quite as contemptuous of the attorney general as he appears to be.

So then, you admit at last

for at least half an hour on December 17, two years ago,

you were entirely alone in that locker room.

I don't know if it was a half hour. I'd say it was more like ten minutes.

Perhaps your arithmetic isn't as good as it should be.

What is 15 from 45?

Fifteen from 45...

Fifteen from 45...

Yes, 15 from 45.

I should be interested to know how you make it ten.

Come now, what is it?

Milord--

Milord, I must protest against these constant interruptions.

My learned friend seems remarkably impatient with me this morning.

No doubt the heat in the courtroom is partly responsible.

I find it rather trying myself.

No doubt we all do, Sir Robert. What do you wish to say?

Merely that the relevance of my learned friend's last question

seemed a little disputable.

I feel fairly confident that this court will be prepared to accept the fact

that 15 from 45 is 30 and not ten.

But my client's skill or lack of it at arithmetic

seems to me to have very little bearing

on whether or not he stole five shillings.

Milord, it must be plain to the meanest intelligence the purpose of my question.

As possessor of that meanest intelligence to which my learned friend refers,

may I say that the purpose of the question was as clear to me as daylight!

It was to browbeat my client

by introducing to this court the atmosphere of a viva voce examination!

Milord, I most emphatically protest!

Sir Robert, that observation was certainly uncalled for.

You are prejudicing your case by these interruptions.

Oh? Do you really think so, milord?

- As Your Lordship pleases. - Continue.

Thank you, milord. I am nearly finished.

Now, young man. At 1:15, you went into the locker room alone.

At 1:45, you went to ask permission to go down to the village.

- Is that right? - Yes, sir.

- That leaves half an hour, doesn't it? - Yes, sir.

Plenty of time to break open a locker and rifle its contents?

- I didn't do that! - Plenty of time

- to forge your name on a postal order? - I didn't!

A name that you had already practised forging?

- I didn't! - Plenty of time to slip it in your pocket

and go to your CO and ask permission to go to the village and cash it?

- That isn't true! - Then if it isn't true,

why did you lie to the captain about the time you spent alone in the locker room?

All right.

Thank you, milord. That is all.

Now, Ronnie. You've had quite an ordeal the past two days, haven't you?

- Yes, sir. - Well, I won't keep you much longer.

I just want to ask you one more question. Only one.

When you'd finished your smoke, what did you do with your cigarette end?

- Put it into your pocket? - No. On top of the lockers.

- I mean-- - I see.

Thank you, Ronnie.

That's all.

The court will adjourn.

The court is adjourned until 10:30 tomorrow morning.

Gosh, sir, how did you know that?

It's my business to know these things.

Sir Robert, this'll make all the difference to the case, won't it?

On the contrary. I didn't want to bring it up if I could possibly have avoided it.

The attorney general will say that a boy who is capable of breaking

one of the strictest college rules by smoking

is more likely than not to have broken another by stealing five shillings.

- But the jury surely-- - If I know the attorney general at all,

he will firmly tell the jury that a verdict for Ronnie

will simultaneously cause mutiny in the Royal Navy

and triumphant jubilation in Berlin.

- Catherine, your father's ill. - Father!

Promise me you won't come to court tomorrow.

The verdict certainly won't come through until the day after tomorrow.

Arthur, dear, promise me you'll stay at home tomorrow.

Come along, dear. We'll get back now.

- Say, you this Winslow boy? - Of course not. I'm the brother.

- Wait. Our American readers want to know. - What is your profession?

- I'm a banker. - What are your views on this case?

I don't know I have any, except I hope we win and all that.

- Have you been in court? - I've just come from Reading.

- Reading? - Yes, where I work.

- I've come for the last two days of trial. - Yes, yes, yes. What's your brother like?

Quite an ordinary sort of kid, just like any other. Makes noise,

- doesn't wash, and all that. - Doesn't what?

Doesn't wash.

Don't take that too literally. He does sometimes.

Nobody in.

- Hello, Dickie! - Hello, Mother.

Extra!

Winslow boy latest. Read all about it.

Winslow Boy. New witness.

Read all about it. Winslow boy. New witness.

Captain Flower, at this inquiry at the college,

Cadet Winslow was given every chance

- to defend himself? - Certainly.

And after hearing all the evidence, what conclusion did you come to?

That he was guilty.

Beyond the faintest shadow of a doubt?

Yes, sir, beyond the faintest shadow of a doubt.

Thank you.

I think you said, Captain, that at this preliminary inquiry at Osborne,

as a result of which Cadet Winslow was branded

as a forger and a thief,

I think you said the boy was given every chance to defend himself.

Yes, sir. That is so.

Tell me, Captain, have you ever been court-martialled?

Milord, I protest most strenuously!

I agree. You don't have to answer that question.

But I'm quite ready to.

Yes, sir, I was court-martialled once, about-- oh, about 25 years ago.

What was the charge?

Conduct unbecoming an officer and a gentleman.

Indeed. What more specific conduct was that?

Stealing a policeman's helmet in Portsmouth.

Speak up, please.

Stealing a policeman's helmet in Portsmouth.

I see.

And what was the result of the court martial?

- I was acquitted. - I'm delighted to hear it.

How old were you then, Captain?

Oh, about-- about 22, I think.

You conducted your own defence, I suppose.

No, I had accused's friend.

Oh, you had accused's friend?

A fellow officer to defend you.

And at his inquiry, did Ronald Winslow have anyone to defend him?

- That was different. - Different?

Oh, yes, of course it was different.

You were a man of 22,

but he was a child of 13.

Thank you, Captain. That is all.

You were quite positive, Mr Ridgeley-Pierce,

that the handwriting was that of Ronald Winslow?

Quite positive.

And you arrived at that conclusion

with the aid of every available scientific device

and after a lifetime's study of handwriting?

I did.

You said, I think, Mr Ridgeley-Pierce, that you used

every available scientific device in identifying this handwriting?

Yes, that is so.

Now, you've often been called the greatest

handwriting expert in the country, haven't you?

That's very good of you. Yes, I suppose I have.

So naturally, you used the Schutzbacher system.

- What system? - The Schutzbacher system.

- You use it, of course. - I'm afraid I've never heard of it.

Never heard of it?

Never heard of the Schutzbacher system?

No.

What is it?

You are not cross-examining me, Mr Ridgeley-Pierce,

I am cross-examining you.

What system, then, do you use?

My own system. The Ridgeley-Pierce system.

Oh, the Ridgeley-Pierce system. Of course.

That was the system you used in the Madison murder case, wasn't it?

Yes, that is so.

You gave evidence that Madison had written a certain letter

in a disguised hand confessing to the murder.

Yes. I did.

Why, then, was Madison acquitted?

Because the jury were idiots.

Oh, idiots, were they?

Because they disagreed with you

and saved an innocent man from the gallows?

No, I mean--

And this jury?

Should they disagree with you too

and save an innocent boy from the stigma of forger and thief?

Will you call them idiots as well?

No, I didn't mean--

That is all, Mr Ridgeley-Pierce.

Oh.

Now, Miss Hawkins,

how long have you been postmistress at Osborne?

Twenty-three years. Of course, I started very young.

I can see that.

Miss Hawkins, I'm going to ask you to answer

a simple and straightforward question.

Are you quite, quite positive

that the boy who bought the postal order for 15 and six

also cashed the postal order for five shillings?

Yes, quite positive.

I see.

Had you any particular reason for noticing him?

If so, what was it?

Well, I thought he was such a nice-looking little boy.

Would you say exceptionally nice-looking?

Better looking, say, than the boy Elliot?

Milord, I consider the question not merely--

Must we have these constant interruptions?

- Proceed, Sir John... - Milord,

the jury has to decide an issue of fact, not act as judges at a beauty competition!

- I will not have this-- - Milord,

it is surely neither right nor proper for my learned friend--

Perhaps you had better leave me to decide what is right and proper, Sir Robert.

I have had occasion to reprimand you before.

I must warn you for the last time

that you must not presume on the patience of the court.

As Your Lordship pleases.

Perhaps this might be an opportune moment to adjourn.

Court is adjourned until 2:00.

- Are you all right, Sir Robert? - Perfectly all right.

Morton, what you and I both need is a glass of good sherry wine.

I suppose next you're going to ask for a postponement

on the ground of ill health, eh, you sly dog?

Desmond.

Oh, don't-- don't go, Kate. I-- I want to speak to you.

I have a matter of some urgency to communicate to you.

- Yes? - The fact of the matter is, Kate,

I have a question to put to you,

which, if I had refrained from putting until after the verdict,

you might have thought-- who knows--

it was prompted by pity if we lose.

Or if we win, your reply might-- again, who knows--

have been affected by gratitude.

Do you-- Do you follow me, Kate?

Yes, Desmond, I think I do.

Then possibly you have an inkling of what the question is I have to put to you.

- Yes, I think I have. - Oh.

Oh, I-- I'm glad you have guessed. It makes my task the easier.

You see, Kate, I know what your feelings for me really are.

- You do, Desmond? - Yes, Kate.

I know that they've never amounted to more than,

well, shall we say friendliness.

A warm friendliness, I hope.

Yes, I-- I think we can definitely say "warm".

When I was younger, it might have been a different story, perhaps.

When played cricket for England.

Or perhaps even that wouldn't have made any difference.

And my athletic prowess is fading, I'm afraid,

with the years and the stiffening of the joints.

But my love for you will never fade.

That was very charmingly said, Desmond.

Oh, don't make fun of me, please, Kate. I meant every word I said.

Whatever you may feel or not feel for me, whatever you may feel for anybody else,

I want you to be my wife.

Thank you.

Will you give me a few days to think it over?

Oh, but of course, of course.

I need hardly tell you how grateful I am, Desmond.

There's no need. Really, there's no need.

Well, I must go and see Sir Robert.

Strange man, that. At times, so cold and distant and--

But what an actor.

He'd almost convinced me that he believed what he was saying,

till I saw him go off with the attorney general like that.

You're wrong, Kate. He has a passion for this case.

A real passion. I happen to know.

Of course, this mustn't go any further, but I know that he has made

a very, very great personal sacrifice to bring it to court.

Sacrifice? What? Of another brief?

No, that's no sacrifice to him.

No. He was offered-- But you really promise not to say a word?

Oh, Desmond. What was he offered?

The appointment of lord chief justice.

Lord chief justice?

Yes. And he turned it down simply in order to be able

to carry on with the case of Winslow against the king.

Strange are the ways of men, are they not?

- Goodbye, my dear. - Goodbye, Desmond.

Oh, no, dear. You mustn't do that. It annoys the exchange.

I'd rather annoy the exchange than have the exchange annoy me.

Catherine's late.

Perhaps they're taking the luncheon interval later today.

Luncheon interval?

This isn't a cricket match. Nor is it a matinee at the Gaiety.

Why are you wearing that highly unsuitable headdress?

Don't you like it, dear? I thought it was one of Madam Dupont's best.

Grace, dear, your son is facing charges of theft and forgery.

It's so difficult. I simply can't be seen in the same old hat day after day.

I tell you what, Arthur.

I'll wear my black coat and skirt tomorrow for the verdict.

Mother, you can't you get rid of those reporters?

- Hello, Dickie. Come to be at the death? - Is that what it's going to be?

Yes, looks like it. I could cheerfully strangle that old brute of a judge.

- He's dead against us. - Oh, dear.

- Is the crowd bigger than yesterday, Kate? - Yes, far bigger.

Oh, we'll be terribly late.

I wonder if Violet will remember to pick up those onions.

Perhaps I'd better do it on my way back from the court.

Come on, Dickie. When you get to the front door,

put your head down, like me, and charge through them all.

I always shout, "I'm the maid, and I don't know nothin'."

I've been a fool, Father.

Have you, my dear?

An utter fool.

On the absence of further information, I can only repeat, "Have you, my dear?"

There can be no further information. I'm under a pledge of secrecy.

Oh?

Desmond has asked me to marry him.

I trust the folly you were referring to wasn't your acceptance of him.

No.

Would it be such folly, though?

Lunacy?

I don't know.

He's nice, and he's doing very well as a solicitor.

Neither very compelling reasons for marrying him.

Seriously, though, I shall have to think it over.

Think it over, by all means, and decide against it.

I'm nearly 30, you know.

Well, that isn't the end of life.

Might be...

for an unmarried woman with not much looks.

- Rubbish. - No, Father. It's quite simple.

Either I marry Desmond and settle down to a...

quite comfortable,

not-really-useless existence...

or I go on for the rest of my life earning £2 a week...

addressing envelopes in the service of a hopeless cause.

A hopeless cause?

Never heard you say that before.

Oh, I've never felt it before.

Poor Kate. I've messed up your life for you, haven't I?

No, Father. Any messing up that's been done has been done by me.

I'm so sorry, Kate.

- So sorry. - No, don't be, Father.

We both knew what we were doing.

- Did we? - Yes, I think we did.

Our motives have been so different, yours and mine, Kate.

Can we both have been right?

I believe we can.

I believe we have been.

Brute stubbornness

and a selfish refusal to admit defeat.

That's what your mother says our motives are.

Well, perhaps she's right.

Perhaps that's all they've been.

But brute stubbornness may not be such a bad quality in the face of injustice.

If you could go back, Father, and choose again, would your choice be different?

Perhaps.

I don't think so.

I don't think so either, Kate.

I still say we both knew what we were doing,

and we were right to do it.

Thank you, Kate.

You're not going to marry Desmond, are you?

In the words of the prime minister, Father, wait and see.

- What's that boy shouting? - Only "Winslow case, latest."

Didn't sound like "latest" to me.

Winslow case result!

- Result? - There must be some mistake.

Sir!

Oh, Miss Kate, what a shame you missed it!

Just after they came back from lunch.

And Mrs Winslow, she wasn't there, nor Master Ronnie neither.

The cheering and the shouting and the carrying on!

You never heard anything like it in all your life!

And Sir Robert standing there at the table with his wig on crooked

and the tears running down his face!

Running down his face, they were.

And not able to speak because of the noise.

Cook and me, we did a bit of crying too.

We just couldn't help it. You couldn't, you know.

Oh, it was lovely! We did enjoy ourselves!

Then cook had her hat knocked over her eyes by the man behind,

who was cheering and waving his arms about something chronic.

And we kept on cheering, and the judge kept on shouting,

but it wasn't any good. even the jury joined in,

and some of them climbed out of the box to shake hands with Sir Robert.

And outside in the street it was the same. You couldn't move for the crowd.

And you'd think they'd all gone mad, the way they was carrying on.

Some of them were shouting "Good old Winslow!"

and singing "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow,"

and cook had her hat knocked off again!

Oh, it was lovely!

Well, sir, you must be feeling nice and pleased,

now it's all over.

Yes, Violet. I am.

That's right.

I always said it would come all right in the end, didn't I?

Yes. You did.

Congratulations, sir, I'm sure.

Thank you, Violet.

It would appear, then, that we'd won.

Yes, Father.

It would appear that we'd won.

I would have liked to have been there.

Sir Robert.

I thought you might like to hear the exact words of the attorney general's statement,

so I jotted them down for you, sir.

"I say now, on behalf of the admiralty,

that I accept the declaration of Ronald Arthur Winslow

that he did not write the name on the postal order,

that he did not take it, and that he did not cash it,

and that consequently he was entirely innocent

of the charge which was brought against him two years ago.

I make that statement without any reservations of any description,

intending it to be a complete acceptance of the boy's statement."

Thank you, sir.

I--

It's difficult for me to...

find the right words to say to you.

Pray do not trouble yourself to search for them, sir.

Let us take these rather tiresome

and conventional expressions of gratitude for granted, shall we?

Now, on the question of damages and costs,

I fear we shall find the admiralty rather niggardly.

Please, sir. No further trouble, I beg you.

This is all I have ever asked for.

Nevertheless, I have every intention

of applying a slight but decisive spur

to the first lord's posterior in the House of Commons.

Father. I'm most awfully sorry, Father.

I didn't know anything was going to happen.

- Where were you? - At the pictures.

We won, didn't you, Sir Robert?

Yes, Ronnie.

We won.

Sir, the gentlemen at the front door say, "Please, would you make a statement?"

They say they won't go away till you do.

- Very well, Violet. Thank you. - Yes, sir.

- Hmm. What shall I say? - I hardly think it matters.

Whatever you say will have very little bearing on what they write.

- Catherine, what shall I say? - Oh, you'll think of something, Father.

Hmm. Well--

No.

I refuse to meet the press in this ridiculous chariot.

- Father, you know what the doctor said. - My stick. My stick.

Ronnie, come on. Help me up.

How would this be? "This is not my victory.

It is the people who have triumphed, as they always will, over despotism."

How does that strike you, sir?

A trifle pretentious, perhaps?

Perhaps, sir. I should say it nonetheless. It'll be immensely popular.

Yes. Well, give me a minute. I'll think of something.

Once the witness had been discredited, the attorney general threw out the case.

Yes, so we heard. But this morning, you seemed so depressed.

- Did I? - Yes.

- Do you mind if I sit down? - Why, no.

- Are you feeling all right, Sir Robert? - Oh, just a slight nervous reaction.

Have you such a thing as a drop of brandy?

Why, yes, of course.

I haven't been feeling myself for some time.

I told the judge so, if you remember, but I doubt if he believed me.

He thought it was a trick, I think. Thank you.

What suspicious minds people have, haven't they?

Yes.

Thank you.

Sir Robert?

I have a confession and an apology to make to you.

Dear lady, I'm sure the one is rash and the other superfluous.

- I'd far rather hear neither. - I'm afraid you must.

You see, it's a better penance for me to say it than to write it.

I had entirely misjudged your attitude to this case.

And if, because of that, I've ever seemed to you either rude or ungrateful,

then I'm sincerely and humbly sorry.

My dear Miss Winslow, you've never seemed either rude or ungrateful to me.

And my attitude to this case has been the same as yours--

a determination to win at all costs.

And when you talk of gratitude, you must remember,

those costs were not mine but yours.

Weren't they also yours, Sir Robert?

I beg your pardon?

Haven't you too made a sacrifice for the case?

The robes of that office would not have suited me.

Wouldn't they?

I must ask you never to divulge it to a living soul

and even to forget it yourself.

Sir Robert,

why are you always at pains to prevent people knowing the truth about you?

- Am I, indeed? - Yes, you know you are. Why?

Perhaps because I do not know the truth about myself.

Oh, that's no answer.

My dear Miss Winslow, are you cross-examining me?

Yes, I am.

Why are you so ashamed of your emotions?

Because in my profession, I must necessarily distrust them.

Cold, clear logic, and buckets of it, should be the lawyer's only equipment.

Was it cold, clear logic that made you weep at the verdict today?

I really must go.

♪ For he's a jolly good fellow ♪

Oh, do you think I could slip out the side way?

Yes, of course. Through the garden door.

♪ And so say all of us ♪

Well, goodbye, Miss Winslow.

You still haven't answered my question.

Very well, then, if you must have it.

I wept today because right had been done.

- Not justice? - No, not justice. Right.

It's easy to do justice

and very hard to do right.

But right has been done.

- Do you smoke? Oh, of course you do. - I didn't know that you did.

I do sometimes,

on very, very special occasions.

Still pursuing your feministic activities, Miss Winslow?

Oh, yes.

Pity. It's a lost cause.

How little you know women, Sir Robert.

Goodbye. I doubt if we shall meet again.

Oh? Do you really think so?

How little you know men, Miss Winslow.