All language subtitles for the best house in london (1969) 720p hdtv x264-regret eng

"Tira lira
by the river sang Sir Lancelot.

"She left the web.
She left the loom.

"She made three paces
through the room.

She…"

Oh, Mr. Leybourne.
Oh, dear. Oh!

Not enjoying it, my dear?

I don't know.

Oh, Mr. Leybourne, a-are you
sure this is the only way

we can jettison weight?

Trust me, my sweet.

Oh, but I-I thought
these sandbags…

Nah, they are, they serve
as lightning conductors.

Oh.

Maude!

'Come in to the garden, Maude!'

'Oh, dear. Oh.'

Halt!

Wait for me here.

One paragraph in your columns
could achieve it, sir.

- One letter.
- No doubt.

All we need are the premises.

Any large, empty house
would serve.

These unfortunate girls
could then learn a proper trade.

Mmm.

The subject of fallen women
is hardly…

Sir, do you know how many of
these poor creatures there are?

The bruised flowers
of men's lust.

They don't go on the streets
from choice.

As long as the only industrial
careers open to women

are those which pay
starvation wages

how else can they keep alive?

Only by the farm
of their bodies.

Bodies is a word
which "The Times"

is not accustomed to print.

'Then use another one!'

You are a reproach
to your profession.

I'll find somebody
to espouse my cause

even if I have to go
to Mr. Charles Dickens.

I'm afraid
mine is a family readership.

Hmm. They're not all
like little Nell.

The new woman,
heaven preserve us.

Uh, e-excuse me.

E-excuse me, sir.

Sir, I wonder if I might have
a moment now, sir.

I-I'm the person,
you may remember

who sent in
the, the remarkable photographs

of-of Count Pandolfo
and Her Majesty, sir.

I might have guessed.

Mr. Oakes, once before
I was foolish enough

to grant valuable space to one
of your new marvels of science.

What was that one?

Oh, yes. Tinned fruit.

But this is a reality, sir.

It-it's a scientific landmark,
sir.

A ship 300 feet long, which…

But it actually flies, sir.

It, it flies
in the upper air, sir.

Bearing a waxwork model
of Her Majesty, the queen?

The line between
journalistic license

and misrepresentation
is a fine one, Mr. Oakes

'but I advise you to toe it.'

I think you know
your way out by now.

I trust you found
a subject for your plot.

Well, there's this
curiosity shop.

- Ah, good, good.
- Oh.

Excuse me, sir.
May I ask you something, sir?

I do not shirk
the most probing question.

Will this thing really fly?

I meant, I meant how far?

How-how far,
how far will it fly?

As far as the minds
of civilized man

may send him questing.

Cheltenham, Harrogate,
Weston Super Mare.

Just set a course!

This is not one
of your open balloons, you know.

It's not a mere envelope of gas.

This is rigid, a framework.

Ha! With a motor.
Bum-bum-bum-bum-bum.

Not got to sit underneath
in a bloody basket.

You travel inside.

Your gas compartment
completely separate, huh?

For the rest,
space to stroll about

go downstairs, come upstairs.

Run about, if you care to.

One, two. One, two.

Put in, uh, bedrooms.

Ballrooms!

Tennis, anyone?

Forty-love.

It will kill
the horseless carriage.

If the good Lord had meant us
to fly in the air

he'd have put feathers
on our bosom.

Seduced and abandoned.

Swept like rubbish
into the furnace of shame.

Oh, how dare we call these
unfortunates fallen women?

I say, here's a go.

One of those damn reformers.

These girls did not fall.

They were thrust!

Yeah, but didn't
they thrust back though, aye?

Your type are always the first
to taunt a poor girl

with what you and your friends
have made her!

Well, here's a shilling,
says I can make her again!

'What future awaits
the girl who has been robbed'

'of her character
and her good name?'

'Only the darkened doorways
of Mayfair.'

'All social opportunity
is barred to her.'

'The very best she can hope for'

is to be kept
like a pinioned bird

in the gilded cages
of St. John's Wood.

- Oh, lovely.
- And yet you mock them.

Rubbish, madam.

What for you, sir

was just an hour of pleasure

for them means
a lifetime of regret.

May I ask a question?

What makes you think Ellery
could make it last an hour?

Have you no fellow feeling?

No, darling.
Have you got one?

Oh!

Oh.

Oh!

'Ooh! Oh, he's come to!
Miss Josephine!'

- I have no trousers on!
- No. Lily took them off.

To examine you
for concealed injuries.

Lil's had experience
of looking after the injured.

I used to sell myself in the
wards of the Middlesex Hospital.

Convalescent wing.

This is the Social Purity
Alliance Hostel.

These are our members.

Oh. How do you do?

- Oh, you little beauty.
- Hello, squire.

- Pleased to meet you.
- Pleased to meet you.

Every one of them
has rescued herself

from a life of degradation.

I was a seduced seamstress
and I took up the work

to get away from that
mustard pickling factory.

Yes. I'm sure you did.

Well, you must tell me more
about your work.

Please.

I see.

Yes, but in this modern age

all sorts
of alternative employments

could be found for females.

I see. I see.

You see, the new female waiter.

- I see.
- Are they good to you here?

They pay you a living wage,
do they?

Oh, no.

Nothing on what
I used to pick up

doing short times
down Waterloo Place.

You're a ruined girl.

I was took advantage of
while in service

brutalized by the young master

when he come home
on embarkation leave.

How loathsome he was to look at.

Fat, bald, palsied.

Oh, what unhappy mischance
drew me to his attention?

Perhaps the very delicacy

and modesty of my bearing.

His very first gesture was
to threaten me with a knife.

Seizing me brutally
by the throat

and disregarding
my piteous protests.

He forced strong liquor
between my reluctant lips.

When I shrank from his touch

all my girlish purity affronted

he clawed the clothes
from my very body

and before I could defend myself

he rained violent blows
upon my fragile flesh.

Then without warning
like a ravening beast of prey

he hurled himself upon me.

Horror followed upon horror…

…and shame upon shame.

Then after what seemed
like hours

as I lay there weeping

and he stood sneering
at my inexperience…

…the door opened.

And there stood…

Mr. Gladstone!

Come to call on the master.

Oh, and they blamed you.

Chucked me out bag and baggage.

The only life left for me
was the mutton market

which I pursued,
but when I got roughed up

in an alleyway
by a divinity student

I come and took up here
till the swellings go down.

What is your name?

Phoebe.

You must come
and join us, Phoebe.

It's a hostel.

Do you see how such girls are
forced into a life of shame?

Ooh.

I've been thinking,
Miss Pacefoot.

I'd like to help you
with your work.

Oh, Mr. Oakes.

Oh, no. I love him!

I'll thank you to remember,
miss, I am still your father.

Running off
with a penniless poet.

- Good evening, Miss Pacefoot.
- Good evening, Mr. Barrett.

To your room, Miss Elizabeth.

Not, not one newspaper
in the land

will print a word about my work.

Not one meeting is reported,
not one resolution recorded.

Oh, but with your support,
Mr. Oakes

your influence with editors…

Uh, well, uh, yes.

A-are these your mother
and father?

- Yes. Deceased.
- Oh, I'm, I'm sorry.

They were killed two years ago
in the Hotel Metropole.

Oh.

A runaway hors d'oeuvre trolley.

Yes, it ran
into a brandy glass warmer

which ignited the table apron.

They perished
in the ensuing conflagration.

Oh! What a tragic way
to end an evening.

Since then I have lived here
with my uncle.

Dear Uncle Francis.

What time is it?

Comme d'habitude.

Five o'clock exactly.

Always to the minute.

No, no, Babette.

No gentleman puts his trousers
on before his socks.

- Oh.
- And do hurry.

I have an appointment
at the Chinese embassy.

You work too hard.

If you only had someone
to help you.

- There is no one I can trust.
- But there is.

Babette, I told you
I will not discuss him.

- Your own son?
- No son of mine!

We Leybournes will never
acknowledge a coward.

If it had only been
some ordinary act of cowardice.

- Oh, but…
- My God, Babette.

Every time I hear those lines.

"Was there a man dismayed?

Was there a man afraid?"

Yes, there was!
Lieutenant Walter Leybourne.

The only soldier
in the light brigade

who did not charge.

My son took one look
at the valley of death

lowered his saber and galloped
straight back to camp.

And you know
where they found him?

No.

Behind Miss Nightingale's tent…

…dosing himself

with Dr. Collis Brown's
chlorodyne.

But he had a cold in the chest.

In the feet,
that's where he was cold.

Oh. But don't you even wonder
what he's doing now?

I know! Pimping!

The porter at the club met him.

By heaven, the last
of the Leybournes, a pander.

Hmph. Living on the earnings
of some deluded tart

and you keep urging me
to put him back in my will.

I don't understand, Babette,
why you should be

so concerned about him.

French are so sentimental
about fatherhood.

- Here. Mm-hmm.
- What's this?

Hmm.

My new corset you like so much.

My perfume.

There. There we are.

Thank you, cheri.
Same time tomorrow?

Of course.
A quarter to 5:00 sharp.

- Comme d'habitude.
- Mm-hmm.

Uh, uh, any success with father?

No success, cheri.

No success of any kind.

Ooh, Walter, mon amour.

Mmm.

Kiss my fishy lips.

I've never known a gentleman
to do that before.

It's pleasant
to keep a souvenir.

A lifetime's collection.

Your time is up, Lady Dilke.

- Come in.
- Oh.

If you're still employed,
Mr. Walter, I can always, uh…

'I'm quite ready
for you, Mr. Wall.'

Now any success with father?

Well, I'm afraid…

Oh, you're perpetually
afraid, Mr. Wall.

Perhaps that's why father chose
to employ you as his lawyer.

If you don't persuade him
to get me back in his will…

I tried. I swear I did.

If you don't persuade him

to get me back in his will

no more juicy fruits.

Ah! You promised.

I'll try again, I vow,
before he sets off for India.

See that you do. Hmm?

And now, please…

…tell me about
the little milliner.

Ah, the little milliner,
not a day over 16.

Paint details.

A desert of virginity

aches within the hotness
of her mouth.

Ah.

- Buxom?
- To the ankles.

Hot-natured?

She pants at the unbuttoning

of my tobacco pouch.

And I can, I can…

Yes. You can watch me.

I thought you people
were supposed to be inscrutable.

Please, Sir Francis

China doesn't want
anymore opium.

Oh, do be sensible, you chaps
have already lost one war

with Great Britain about this.

But to force us to buy it.

Well, you signed a treaty
agreeing to.

Your gunboats
were right up our Yangtze.

No use getting hysterical,
Mr. Fang.

Then let me appeal
to our friendship

those happy weekends I used
to spend at your townhouse.

Hmm.

Your late wife was always so…

…kind to me,
more than kind. She…

Uh, she was eccentric
about the inferior races.

My dear fellow,
I have put a lot of money

into that opium plantation.

Damn it, it's hard enough
to get the Indians

to harvest the stuff.

Uh, blasted natives,
you pay them

two pounds ten a year
and they're useless.

If you could see what the opium
does to our people.

They lie about the streets
like dead flies.

Well, get them to use
a little self-discipline then.

Self-control, works wonders.

Look at the English.

There are, by Mr. Mayhugh's

latest estimate, 500 trollops

to be found daily
between Piccadilly

and the bottom
of Waterloo Place.

On the Burlington Arcade

passage has been rendered
well-nigh impossible.

On the pavements of Bond Street

they grow like weeds

and, Mr. Home Secretary

between Simpson's and Lawton's,
a member of my club

was solicited
no less than 26 times.

Perhaps a regular customer.

The Dean of Canterbury?

Gentlemen, am I to understand

that the, uh, purpose
of this delegation

is to persuade me
to abolish prostitution?

Oh, really, minister.

Credit us with some sense
of practical morality.

In an ordered society,
such women must be available.

They fulfill functions
to which a gentleman

would otherwise be obliged
to subject his wife.

Then?

It is the ordering
of the situation, sir.

As it stands, no lady
dare walk the Mayfair Streets.

Would a lady wish to?

If she is to make purchases
in my establishment…

Our establishment, Mr. Fortnum.

Your pardon, Mr. Mason.

It was simply the minister's

lighthearted attitude.

On the one hand, you proclaim
the necessity for maintaining

these, uh, princesses
of the pavements

uh, but on the other…

Minister, they're now
interfering with trade.

Ah.

Their continued presence
is keeping

the better type of customer
out of the better type of shop.

No one is thinking of abolishing
these creatures, minister.

All we're asking is
get them off the streets.

Yes, gentlemen, but into where?

♪ I have a cousin Tony
who has a dappled pony ♪

♪ It can jump a fence
and never ever fall ♪

♪ But I love my pussy
my pretty little pussy ♪

♪ Because my little pussy
is so small ♪♪

'Very nicely sung,
little Evelyn Tankhurst.'

And now, school,
this is our last

prize-giving ceremony
in Belgravia Hall.

Next term, St. Hilary removes
into fine new premises

in the rural beauty
of Notting Hill.

'It will mean,
however, bidding farewell'

to that distinguished gentleman
who we have been proud to call

not only landlord, but friend.

'Sir Francis Leybourne'

'alderman of the city of London'

'church commissioner'

and enlightened pioneer

'of our far eastern commerce.'

May I therefore call
upon this great Englishman

to present our prizes?

♪ A dove will coo ♪

♪ Ooh ooh ♪

♪ Serene as a queen
with a crown ♪

♪ What trilling there will be
in the aviary ♪

♪ For the birds of London town ♪

Is there no other alternative?

Only abolishing
prostitution altogether.

Decent women would be raped
on the streets.

Which would be even worse
for the retail trade.

But what you are proposing, sir

surely, is the French system.

That is why all I'm suggesting
at the moment is one house.

- A trial one.
- I see. Huh.

An interesting idea, sir.

England's first, uh,
how should one say

maison tolerer.

That does fall rather more
sweetly on the ear than brothel.

Uh, this experimental house
will, of course

be closely observed
and in due time

'uh, provided it has
given no offense'

to, uh, to propriety and order

I shall, uh,
introduce legislation

to enable them
to be established nationally.

A considerable plan, sir.

Sterling.

And for the man
who takes on the task

of establishing that first house
a challenging one.

I regard it as an honor.

♪ For the birds ♪

♪ Of London town ♪♪

Our clients will be drawn
only from gentlemen of rank

prominence, social standing
and wealth.

None of your
middle-class rabble.

A tolerated house in England?

Oh, soon we will
have the queen eloping

with the archbishop
of Canterbury.

Oh, that is unpardonably
frivolous.

I only enlisted
your assistance…

- Ouch!
- Pardon.

…because duty calls me to India.

You can depend on me.

My own house of ill fame.

It was my dream
since I was 12 years old.

Uh, but you must remember
the home secretary's warning.

Should one breath of scandal
attach itself

to this undertaking,
one hint of unseemliness…

My dear Francis, half the art
of a woman of the world

consists in doing
disgusting things delicately.

Please trust me.

Have a pleasant voyage,
Sir Francis.

I understand
that India is at its best

at this time of the year.

It's the monsoon season.

Well, farewell, my dear.
Now if you have any problems…

I know, uncle.
Consult Mr. Wall.

And, uh, you will see
that Mademoiselle Babette

is given every assistance?

If I, if I could just make
my final suggestion, plea…

What about?
Well, spit it out, man.

You're twitching like
a carthorse's flank. What is it?

In the, in the matter
of the, uh…

I-I did mention…

If it is one word
about my blaggard of a son

I'll pitch you into the dock.

- Well?
- N-nothing, Sir Francis.

- Excuse me.
- Nothing.

I, uh, seem to have got
on the wrong ship.

Babette,
that's a brilliant idea.

Mm-hmm.

- While he's away in India, eh?
- Mm-hmm.

Hmm.

And when he comes back

he finds the house
a flourishing success

and we tell the old fool
who really created it.

- Me.
- Hmm.

- You, cheri.
- Mm.

Yes, that should get me
back in his will.

We'll have the finest house
in Europe.

I'll test every girl personally.

Mm. It's so wonderful to have
something to do together.

We'll call it
the Libertine Club.

Mm-hmm.

Temple of refined perversity.

Emporium of excess.

No itch will be left
uncatered for.

England, I'll fan your embers.

Fan mine again.

'Every whim and every
caprice has been anticipated.'

That is for
the Mary and monk room.

The sultan room.

Hmm. For those with tastes
inclined towards the plural?

Mm-hmm. It sleeps eight.

Regarde.

Oh, no, no.

I said manacles.

Pas comme ci.

Comme ca.

- How jolly.
- The devices from Japan.

They arrived this morning.

Oh, I shall need more virgins
for the King Solomon room.

'A further eight
arrives Thursday.'

Will they be young?

Was there ever a demand
for old virgins?

Yes. She'll serve. 15 pounds.

Have her delivered
to this address.

"Belgravia Hall."

You're a gentleman.
God bless you, sir.

Ain't you a lucky girl?

That's exactly
how I got started.

Spit at me.
For sweet Jesus' sake.

"The soiled doves
of a great city."

Ooh, this is powerful, Mr.
Oakes!

And scattered down
from an airship?

Two hundred. Yes.

I think
that should be sufficient

to blanket Kensington.

Mr. Oakes.

Oh, I think it would be more
proper to employ my saliva.

Oh, stuff.

Well, well,
we, we haven't a chaperone

and, well, proximities.

Oh, dear.

Am I putting temptation
your way?

Must I now expect you
to, uh, lurch at me?

Oh. Oh, no,
my dear Miss Pacefoot.

Ah.

Oh, you really
are the new woman.

Yes, we're not all soft,
giddy things.

Lurch.

You know, there's, there's
something about your face

which always reminds me
of someone else.

Yes, I have a cousin, Walter.

- Oh, there's another bit here.
- Oh, no.

Well, well, let me
just take it off.

No. No.
I-it is ineffaceable.

Oh, is it a birthmark?

- It is a…
- Oh.

It's a, a dark mark of birth,
Miss Pacefoot.

Mr. Oakes!

I-I-I should have
told you before.

Miss, Miss Pacefoot,
I have a confession to make.

I am a…

My mother was a servant girl.

I, I don't know
who my father was.

She was an upstairs maid
in-in a large townhouse.

Well, one Sunday morning,
she brought the occupant

of one of the main bedrooms
his hot shaving water.

She…

Well, she asked him if there
was anything else he wanted.

And he…

But this must have been
before breakfast.

What sort of a man will…

She would never divulge
the gentleman's name.

She was discharged
from her employment

for breaking
the shaving water jug.

She, she died giving me birth.

Well, this is the,
the only clue I have

to my father's identity.

'It looks like a batwing.'

Mr. Oakes, does this mean
you're a bastard?

M…

Miss, Miss Pacefoot.

A surely verbal deportment…

Oh, what fiddle
for verbal deportment.

Are you or aren't you?

Yes.

I, I take it you'll now wish to
terminate our acquaintanceship.

Oh, well, of course not.

I've just never met
a bastard socially.

You must stay for tea.

Yes. I'll take a dozen of those.

Send them round
to Belgravia Hall

along with the other
erotic snuffboxes and all the…

- Thank you very much, sir.
- Mm.

Go away! Get off.

Voluptuous little skivvy.

- 'Phoebe.'
- The young master.

Phoebe, my sweet.

How are you supporting
yourself these days?

Are you, uh, letting out
your front parlor?

No. Not anymore. No.

I have, I have
the perfect setting

for those nimble hips
of yours, a cupidorium.

It's a highly exclusive
tabby house

where a gentleman
out on the randan

can, uh, ease himself
in congenial surroundings.

Master Walter, I've give it up.

- I've been salvaged.
- Oh.

There's a whole crowd of us
down at the Purity Hostel.

We all gave up the life.

A hostel full
of lotties and totties?

What a frenzy
of enforced chastity.

Phoebe, how would you like
to be a recruiting sergeant?

Turn round.

Mm.

Mm…

Bon marchandise.

Extremely possible.

These hostel girls
were a most fortunate find.

- Lily was rescued last year.
- Mm.

Welcome, my dear.
You have been rescued back.

- Give her a wash.
- Come on.

I'll let you know
her specialties.

Surely one of you must know
where they've disappeared to.

But that's eight girls now.

First Molly, then Lily.

"Alice, Prudence, Emily

"Charlotte, Arabella

and dear Phoebe."

They've just vanished.

And you can't put them
all down to Jack the Ripper.

The whole social purity
alliance is threatened.

Is there nothing we can do?

Well, there's only one way.

To get the need for the
industrial training center

reported nationally.

I must give the press
a-a bait, a hook.

A kind of razzle-dazzle?

Well, in order to contrive
this, uh, razzle-dazzle

I shall, I shall need
your assistance.

Well, the one thing
that the newspapers

will not be able to refuse
is a true confession.

A personal story.

Dramatic, shocking

but specific.

Were any of you raped?

Violated forcibly?

Anyone? Hmm?

I can get five columns
for a good rape.

Evelyn.

Well, you couldn't
really call it rape.

I mean, well, I helped a bit.

- Miranda.
- Me too.

Well, it was on
a billiard table.

Is it rape if you take
your own stockings off?

No.

It has to be
unreservedly monstrous.

Don't any of you know a girl
who was, who was taken by force?

Hmm? A friend, perhaps?

An acquaintance even?

Well, there's my baby sister

but we haven't heard
from her yet.

You know, she was only
purchased a week ago.

- Purchased?
- Purchased?

Miss, Miss Pacefoot,
I wish you'd let me

do the actual purchasing
of the virgin.

- 'It seems seemlier.'
- It's my duty.

Now will I pass…

…for a low woman?

Candlelight wasn't half
so pernicious to the sight.

This gas lighting
cause such a glare

and him being in drink
all the time.

He treats the children so ill

'which is because
they're not all his.'

Some of them.

So, uh, what manner of gentleman
is it is wanting her?

Well, he's elderly

fat, bald, palsied.

Should be willing
to pay handsome then.

Twelve pound he's offerin'
in gold sovereigns.

Mrs. Butler down the hall
got 15 for her Vanessa

'and she was
damaged goods, mind.'

What you argy-bargyin' for,
you silly cow?

Now, Flora, she's untouched.

Pure virgin.

- Ain't you, Flo?
- Take it, mum!

Old buffer like that.

I'll have silk drawers,
me own latchkey

plenty of lush.

Give us 20 then?

Just sign this receipt.

'"In return for 20 sovereigns'

'"I hereby hand over'

"for unspecified carnal purposes

"my daughter,
Flora Dora Tosa, a virgin.

Signed, Mary Tosa, spinster."

And we call ourselves civilized.

The story will have
to be written very…

…care-carefully.

I can't express
my gratitude to you.

- Oh, you were the brave one.
- Oh, Mr. Oakes, you…

- You have admirable qualities.
- 'Oh, no.'

Well, even at this very moment,
I, I want to again…

- What?
- Lurch at you.

Here! You two
are talking different.

Flora dear, we are not
what you feared us to be.

We are going to take you
to a place

where you'll be taken care of
and, and given work.

And your chastity
will be preserved.

Bleedin' hell!

Still.

Alright. Start your work!

Carry on with your work!

Do you agree to help me?

Oh, very well. She can be
put to panel-sewing.

- Oh, missus!
- Here, love. Come here.

You promised my mum
I'd be ruined!

Young man, let me
ask you a question.

Am I expected to pay you
50 pound per year

to put virgins in the newspaper?

Of course not, sir.
No, sir.

Count Pandolfo, it's beautiful.

Beautiful, yes, but unknown!

The unknown airship.

Count Pandolfo,
Miss Pacefoot's work

is socially important.

But what can be
more socially important

than an airship?

Virgins there have always been.

This is an entirely new amenity.

Can you just spare me
for two weeks?

Grazie. Two weeks?

In order to write Flora's story
in such graphic terms

that "The Times"
will be unable to refuse it

I need time!

He's already devised
a headline, sir.

'A most affecting one.'

Innocence cries out.

But I have a whole
airship crying out!

It's your Harry! Ooh.

Another 10 yards of cloth
and I would have had him.

Flora, is this how you repay
our efforts to help you?

Fine bloody help!

How can a girl expect
to lose it in an airship works?

Enough! Enough! Basta!

Come off of here.
Put her with an honest woman!

And for this brazen hussy

you expect me
to neglect my airship?

- Two weeks. Just two weeks.
- Make up your mind!

You're working for me
or for the world?

- Sir, sir.
- What?

Sir, may I ask one question?

The time for questions is past.
What do you want?

Have you taken a patent
on your craft?

I have taken nobody on it.
You're the only…

No, sir. Have you registered it
with the patent office?

Until you do that, any
publicizing could be dangerous.

Dangerous? Wait…

The whole concept
could be stolen.

- Stolen?
- Stolen.

What kind of country have
I got myself citizen to?

- In.
- In.

Young man, not a word of this
must get into the newspapers.

- Hmm.
- Hold back.

Oh, I will, sir.
I will. I will, sir.

And make me
one of these patents, huh?

- Yes, sir.
- A big one!

Yes, a big patent, sir. Whoa!

How am I gonna
make him a patent?

My uncle's solicitor.

I didn't know
such people existed.

A publicizing consultant?

Oh, he came to me for help in
some, uh, patent office matter.

And it occurred to me
immediately…

- You were absolutely right.
- Huh?

If we did get an unfavorable
mention anywhere

it could do us
immeasurable damage.

Hmm. I shall visit the young man
before our opening night.

Which is in two weeks' time

so you better start
sending these out.

I think you will find
the invitation list

conforms to my father's
specifications.

Only the eminent, the prominent
and the wealthy.

"The Earl of Cardigan,
Mr. Lionel Rothschild

Mr. Soames Forsyte."

"The French ambassador?"

"The Marquess of Queensberry."

- Mm.
- Dr. Jekyll?

Hmm. Better send him two.

We received on anonymous
information this morning, sir.

An extremely opulent bordello

is about to be opened
at Belgravia Hall.

- Now…
- Unh-unh.

A former school
for young ladies.

I know.

You know?

If you care to take a rest, sir

I'll, uh, put in some trees.

Thank you, Sir Edwin.

Yes, it has come
to my notice, inspector

but I'd prefer you to,
let's say, turn a blind eye.

Do nothing about it?

A bordello?

Leave it be?

Well, keep it under observation.

If, of course,
it, uh, exhibits any evidence

of, uh, explicit impropriety.

If there's a tendency
towards public scandal.

Um, uh,
but I don't think it will.

How can it not not?

Because, inspector, it's being
administered by a gentleman.

Quite excellent curry.

You must congratulate the cook.

They slit his throat.

Then congratulate his widow.

You know, Jones,
you're half English.

We really must
clear up this trouble.

I mean, if we're going
to harvest the crop.

Well, there's some kind
of grievance, do you think?

Grievance?

Never listen
to grievances, Jones

as I told the Chinese
trade attache before I left.

Never listen to them.

It suddenly turned warm.

You know, this won't do.

This simply will not do.

Have you a union, Jack?

Then tell the men
to stop firing.

There, you mutinous native dogs.

Fire if you dare…

…upon the unconquerable flag
of the British Empire.

Who gets it?

- Who gets Belgravia Hall?
- Shh.

Do you want me to kick you
in the groin again?

- No.
- Then tell me.

Did you forge a new will
or didn't you?

You blundering fool.

So our house now passes to…

Yeah.

Hmm.

I know
that Miss Pacefoot herself

is of irreproachable character,
but this seems…

Sir, I can authenticate
every word, sir.

I have my notes
and the photographs

and here is the receipt, sir.

It all seems so indelicate.

Buying a 15 year old.

You make great mention
of the purchased virgin

being placed in the employ
of Count Pandolfo.

- Pioneer of Pandolfo's Airship.
- I don't see it.

Um, cloud borne omnibus
of the future, sir.

Uh, fully patented.

Not averse to the two birds

with one stone principle,
are you?

You have, uh, suffered
a loss, mademoiselle?

No one irreplaceable,
Monsieur Oakes.

Good.

- Uh…
- Unh-unh.

I seek your assistance.

I have another new enterprise.

Its, uh, publicization problems
are somewhat special.

- Is it a commodity?
- Uh-huh.

A service.

Something quite fresh

in the way
of a gentlemen's club.

I see.

W-well, I'm afraid
I'm r-rather busy at the moment.

I've got, uh, this, um

hmm, look, airship.

Un ballon dirigeable.

Uh, tres dirigeable.

- Uh, uh, yes.
- Hmm.

I-I've also got a-a social evil.

And, uh, well, you can see I
haven't got time for, for, uh…

We are prepared to pay you
500 pounds a year.

Uh, 5-500 pounds a year?

So maybe you will call on us.

'Our address is Belgravia Hall.'

"The whole of my estate"

"namely the opium plantations
in India"

"and the property in London
known as Belgravia Hall"

"I hereby bequeath to…"

"…I bequeath to my niece,
Miss Josephine Pacefoot."

Uh, but that's not fair.

Well, well, Cousin Walter.

Well, surely it should be he
as the only son.

Is it for us
to question the judgment

of one whose nobilities of soul
live on after him…

…especially in Belgravia Hall?

Who would talk
of ownership there?

Perhaps Miss Josephine
should be shown.

A convent?

Yes, endowed by my dear father

for the sisters
of Saint Babette.

Yes, a convent school.

It boards and instructs the
daughters of the deserving poor.

Welcome to this house. Please.

Miss Pacefoot,
Sister Immaculata.

I see it's the fast
of the blessed Theodosia.

Till sundown.

What purity there is
in young girls' voices.

I'm sorry you cannot see
our charges, but the fast.

Oh, I quite understand.

With so many girls of 14 and 15.

Do you teach
these young girls a trade?

A profession.

Cousin Walter,
that was inspirational.

- May I confess something?
- Please do.

Well, this morning,
when we were first told

that I had inherited
Belgravia Hall

my immediate thought
was at last somewhere

to house
my industrial training center.

But now having seen it,
I realize

Sister Immaculata is laboring
in the selfsame vineyard.

Perhaps one might say
with the selfsame grapes.

She must stay here.

You see, what I will do is

I shall use
my other inheritance.

'Miss Pacefoot, I beseech you'

in the name of 40 million
suffering Chinese

do not set that vile plantation
to work again.

Mr. Fang, if those properties
uncle left me

are to be used to finance
my industrial training home

what alternative have I?

A Belgravia Hall.

That is already doing noble work
for deprived humanity.

So all I can use are the profits
from the opium crop.

I'm sorry, Mr. Fang

but England's social problems
must come first.

And I thought my countrymen's
afflictions were lifted.

Why don't you teach them
a trade?

Oh, Mr. Oakes, don't you see?
The sale of the opium crops

will give me enough
to finance a beautiful

industrial training center
or more than enough.

I'll even be able
to contribute donations

to that convent.
Oh, Mr. Oakes, I wish…

Miss Pacefoot,
you can't have dealings

with an opium plantation.

- Why not?
- Because it's… commerce.

Trade.

'Miss Pacefoot,
it has been proved'

scientifically proved,
that prolonged arithmetic

is too severe
for the female brain.

Mr. Oakes!

I never expected to hear you
voice that objection.

Odd how people
one thinks one knows

can surprise one.

First, Cousin Walter
this morning at Belgravia Hall

and now, this afternoon.

Miss! Miss!

Oh, fiddle.

Miss.

I'm sorry, Mr. Oakes.
I have an appointment.

I presume you will render
an account for past services.

Please, Miss Pacefoot.

Belgravia Hall?

Gentlemen's club?

'Monsieur Oakes!'

I'm so happy you did find time

to help us
in our new enterprise.

Gentlemen's club?

Not at all
how I pictured the Athenaeum.

I told you it was special.

I will tell you
the truth about it.

Phoebe.

Lily?

Evelyn?

Club? This is nothing
but a common bordello.

Oh, no. A most uncommon one.

And, and then you thought
that I would…

When all the time,
you were trying to lure

those girls back
to the dirty life.

Well, just makes a mockery

of everything
Miss Pacefoot was trying to do.

Miss Pacefoot?

You know Miss Pacefoot?

Yes. Yes, indeed, I do.

And, and just at the very time
when she…

Just a minute.

It's you who's been buying up
all the virgins.

And that convent
and the convent is the…

Ah, awkward.

Get me Phoebe.

I have another
little job for her.

She's here, Master Walter.

We have ample time, Phoebe.

Girls?

Girls?

Girls, I have
some wonderful news.

Phoebe.

Oh, Miss Josephine, forgive me.

Where have you been
all this time?

The beast! The hideous beast!

Who?
Phoebe, what's happened to you?

I've been raped!

For three weeks?

He kept on and on.

Who?

Mr. Oakes?

Just threw me down
and raped me physically.

I don't believe it!

Held me captive, he did.

And had carnival knowledge
of me over and over.

Phoebe, I know Mr. Oakes.
He wouldn't.

But he did, continuously.

When I escaped,
he, he followed me here and…

If that noble gentleman
hadn't chanced to arrive…

What noble gentleman?

There's your man, constable.

Oh, Cousin Walter!

Some merciful providence
must have directed

my steps here this afternoon.

Take courage, child.

Your private hell is over.

Wake up, you drink-sodden cur.

Miss, Miss Pacefoot!

I've, I've discovered
something diabolical.

So have I.

What was that?

You have forfeited
my esteem forever.

You are not fit to touch
the hem of her robe.

I, I wasn't going to,
and please stop pushing me.

- 'Phoebe!'
- No! No more!

Miss Pacefoot, I can tell you
something about her.

That is the most
despicable suggestion

ever made to a lady.

Stop pushing me.

Who are you?

No one of your ilk.

A respecter of womanhood.

- Constable?
- 'Sir.'

Put him where he belongs.

Cousin Josephine,
let me escort you home, hmm?

The full rigor
of the law, constable.

Very good, sir.

Alright, you lust-crazed animal.

Come along with me.

What did I do?
What did I do?

Drunk and disorderly,
breach of the peace

and persistent rape.

What did, what did I do?

That poor girl.

That, Phoebe, was it?

Well, you can thank
merciful heaven

for guiding my footsteps
to your hostel this afternoon.

You must tell me more
about your work there.

That's exactly what he said.

What a thoroughgoing blackguard.

The worst kind of voluptuary.

Are you interested
in fallen women, Cousin Walter?

It is possibly
my most paramount interest.

Cousin Josephine,
if you would do me the honor

of dining with me this evening,
perhaps we could…

Miss, I'm sorry.
I, I tried.

You must take her back!

She is more inflammable
than the hydrogen.

Not a workman is safe.

Enticing them
into the forward bulkhead.

Is sharp!

Offering herself
in the gas compartment.

You bleeding…

Construction work
has well-nigh ceased.

Two weeks gone
and I'm still a virgin.

'Oh, Flora, what
are we to do with you?'

If I may make a suggestion.

- I don't want to go.
- Flora!

Flora, now stop it.

It's a proper convent school.

I don't want to go
to a proper convent school.

Oh, thank you! Thank you!

I think she may now
find heart's ease.

Till tonight then?

What did I do?

Mm-hmm. Turn.

Pas mal.

Yes, truly a worthwhile
acquisition.

I think.

'And so enthusiastic!'

She's unwilling to wait
even till tomorrow.

The baker's boy was lucky
to escape with his tray.

Phoebe?

So to tomorrow.

Our opening night.

My opening night. Mmm.

And Miss Pacefoot,
she will not worry us again?

When an English gentlewoman
marries

any house she owns passes
immediately to her husband.

You think that just taking her
out to dinner

'will make her marry you?'

With what I serve for dessert.

That was a splendid dinner,
Cousin Walter.

It requires some expertness
and practice

for a gentleman with a mustache

to take jelly
in an inoffensive manner.

Are you still perturbed
about your friend?

No! No, not at all.

After this afternoon, I wouldn't
give him a second thought.

Well, I'm very glad
you accepted my invitation.

I, I had no idea

it was to be
a private dining room.

Ah! Surely
as the emancipated woman, you.

Uh, that will be all, thank you.

Did, uh, Mr. Leybourne
mention that I, uh, I…

Oh, yes, uh, you'd like me

to take the key out for you,
wouldn't you?

Cousin Walter,
does your coffee taste odd?

Odd, Cousin Josephine?

S-strange.

It's very strange.

Surely, one of life's minor
pleasures, Cousin Josephine.

Looking at lighted candles
through half-closed eyes.

Mmm.

But not to be compared
with life's major pleasures.

It's very confusing.

Mmm?

I'm afraid I have this
sudden desire to lie down.

Mmm?

And at the same time…

…I have an overwhelming
urge to giggle.

Well, the two inclinations
are not incompatible.

Blast!

Rot him!

So much for the lying down.

Now for the giggling.

I shall print kisses
on your knees.

On the backs of your knee.

What has to be done…

…has to be done!

'Mmm. Mmm. Mmm.'

Paper! Lascivious revelations!

Paper! Lascivious revelations!

Concupiscence in high places!

'Young females purchased
like commodities!'

'Paper! Paper!'

'Young females purchased
like living commodities!'

Oh, ooh!

Oh.

Mmm. Mmm.

Morning.

- Oh.
- Mmm!

Lovely day.

That's alright, sir.

I've had lots of gentlemen
who liked it this way.

Oh, wait till you see
today's "Times."

Oh!

Hello. What's this say?

Oh!

Oh, yes. Very good.

Very good.

You realize that when
my government hears about this

you will never again
be allowed to enter

the royal enclosure at Ascot.

This display of oriental pique

will never deflect me
from my purpose.

It is why I have addressed
my demands to your next of kin.

"The only way left to me

"to prevent
the opium trade resuming

"is to appropriate
the plantation itself.

"That is why I have taken
Miss Pacefoot.

"If you do not send me
the deeds and title

"to the plantation
by midnight tonight

she will meet
a most painful death."

Mon dieu! They will kill her?

Painfully.

Oh!

Well, after all, it is most
frightfully convenient.

Isn't it?

She rides!

She rides the sky!

She rides the blue heaven!

Pandolfo flies!

Come, Pandolfo!
Come down at once!

A milestone in aviation history

and who will know about it?

Nobodies!

Where is that Mr. Oakes?

Still busy with the virgins,
I suppose.

Port! To port!

But that's Starboard, sir.

What's in a name?

Why isn't that young man here
to take the photographs?

This report here
says that the young girl

was placed in your employment.

And I placed her out of it!

How many more times
do I have to tell you this?

- Where is she now?
- I don't know.

They took her away in a carriage

to somewhere in Belgravia,
some hall.

A hall?

Mmm. Interesting.

What do you make
of it, my friend?

I'd say it belongs
to a young man of about 24

'and having been imprisoned'

'on somewhat
trumped-up charges'

'he is now pleading
for a chance to disprove them.'

'Probably, I'd say, with our old
friend Inspector Macpherson.'

'And if I know
the Wily Macpherson'

'he will grant him his freedom'

'in the hope that the young man'

'will lead him
to more important quarry.'

My old friend, I, I just don't
understand how you do it.

Elementary, my dear fellow.

I say, excuse me.
Have you chaps seen a comb?

Ah, that's it. Thank you.

My friend dropped it here
last night.

Thank you.

Oscar! Oscar!
I found it, Oscar!

Well, I'm not bloody
Sherlock Holmes, you know.

He went and told the police.

That's where Miss Pacefoot
had placed Flora.

If the police
raid Belgravia Hall

and find Flora there

Miss Pacefoot will
just be arrested

as a common procuress.

Ay!

What is a procuress?

Evidence of explicit
impropriety.

That's what I was
instructed to wait for

and I've got it.

So we swoop on Belgravia Hall
at 10 o'clock tonight.

The young virgin to be removed

and all other persons
found on the premises

to be taken into custody
and charged with abetting.

In the meantime

I have got Sergeant Coulter

shadowing that shady eyetie.

But you must know where she is.

I'm sorry, sir.

Miss Pacefoot hasn't been
home since yesterday.

Excuse me. Miss Pacefoot?

Miss, Miss Pacefoot?

Please take your hands off!

Do you fancy
threading the needle?

- You prefer Indian tea?
- Yes, I do.

Then why don't you grow it?

Now you're just being testy.

If you think my cousin or
my solicitor will be influenced

by this sort of peevishness,
you're quite wrong.

If they fail to grant my demands

I have told them that
you will be killed painfully.

Uh, ambassador,
this is, uh, Babette Laroche.

The French ambassador.

- Your Excellency.
- Enchante, madame.

I should like to talk
to you, please, later.

We've got to get Flora
out ourselves.

Shh.

Why has everything gone quiet?

Gentlemen, the opening ceremony
has been performed.

Et maintenant amusez vous.

It's a coal cellar.

I think we better split up.

Flora.

Oh, sir, have you come
to disturb my woolly flock?

Life plays strange tricks
on an airship inventor.

My congratulations
on your achievement.

At last, somewhere to go
in London on Sunday afternoons.

Thank you, Your Reverence.

Flora?

Flo…

If you'd have led hearts

you'd have won the bodice too.

You've done wonders.

Some of these, uh, services
that you offer.

The variety of choices
is astonishing.

Most invigorating.

Bien, messieurs,
have you made your choice?

Yes, well, I, I think,
uh, number eight.

Ah, very good.

Psst! Flora!

Oh, Mr. Thackeray,
you are a caution.

I say fair do's, young man.
I paid for the full hour.

Oh, I beg your, beg your,
beg your pardon, sir.

Flora?

A school cap and an Eton suit
for Mr. Swinburne.

He'll show you
to the robing room.

It's all going splendidly.

Flora?

Flora?

Hello, cheeky.

Cor.

- You have it lucky.
- No further.

No further, now, see?

I'm warning you!

Inspector, the men
are in position, sir.

Oh, Flora!

Flora.

But you are a French woman.

Oui, mais!

Uh, a harsh brush
for the Hansel and Gretel room?

In the store cupboard.

Spiffing, isn't it?

Ooh!

Have you seen the gothic room,
Mr. Darwin?

I think you'll find it
frightfully interesting.

It's quite, quite different.

Ha ha! You see,
it's frightfully popular.

'Please, Liebchen,
just call me Albert.'

'Please.'

Can it be?

Oh, I'm-I'm awfully sorry
about this.

They committed unpardonable
outrages upon my person.

Oh.

Complete strangers.

Never in my whole…

I say, I say you!

Hey, you two, after them!

Come on, let's have a threesome!

'Oh, don't do that!'

'Get your hand away!'

'Not that one, the other one!'

'Miss, miss,
have you got no modesty?'

'Just stop it!'

- Flora!
- Oakie, get out of here!

Get her away.
I'm strict chapel!

Inspector?

And all these fine men.

We intend to search this brothel

and detain everyone
found inside.

I shouldn't
advise it, inspector.

At least half the cabinet
is here.

Sir, we've received information
that they have purchased…

I'm sure you acted
most properly, inspector

but, uh, ahem, in view
of, um, present company

don't you think
it would be better

if you postponed your raid
until tomorrow night?

Yes, sir.

Of course, sir.

Tomorrow night it will be, sir.

I hoped it would not
come to this

but it is already 10:30.

If I am to die, I am content
it should be for the furtherance

of women's industrial
opportunities.

I can only hope your advisers
are less progressive.

Please, there is still time
to transfer the title deeds.

Mm, I'm sorry.

It was a noble experiment

but I did stipulate
that one breath of scandal.

Yes, well, hmm.

After all, mademoiselle,
we, we're not in, um, Paris.

Paris.

Paris.

Forty seven, forty eight,
forty nine, fifty thousand.

And Monsieur L'ambassadeur

I shall keep my part
of the bargain.

Mademoiselle, you are
a true daughter of France.

Rotten, interfering pigs!

Another two minutes
and I'd have had him!

Oh!

I'll never lose it now!

Mmm.

Mmm.

- Monsieur Oakes!
- Not a word, mademoiselle.

Not a word. Pas un mot.

You are so strong.

You are going to get us
out of here and you're going

to tell us what's happened
to Miss Pacefoot.

What have you done with her?
Where is she?

I will tell you

providing Count Pandolfo
will help me.

No. No. Already once tonight,
I have been violate!

What do you want us to do?

M-Miss Pacefoot!

Ms. Pacefoot, you must
leave here immediately.

Would you look the other way,
Mr. Oakes?

My bodice is disarranged!

Ms. Pacefoot,
you have been the victim

of a, of a wicked deception.

How could I have been
so gullible?

Well, you were not to blame.

When you were the only one
I really could trust.

And all the time,
Cousin Walter, that convent!

Midnight

and the opium plantation
has not changed hands.

I'm sorry.

Well, it's not actually midnight

until the last chime.

In China, it's the first one.

Miss Pacefoot, this is
our last moment before we…

May I confess
something intimate?

I don't think that
would be indecorous, Mr. Oakes

under the circumstances.

Then, my dear Miss Pacefoot

let me impart
that my regard for you

transcends the bounds
of mere affection.

Oh! Does it, Mr. Oakes?

'Wait!'

Mr. Fang, I've had
a change of heart.

I will transfer the deeds
to the opium plantation.

Steady as she goes!

Steer south by east!

Turn left at the next cloud.

Well, then, sir, I may swoop
again tonight in full force

and this time, without demur.

I suppose so.

Alright, inspector. Swoop.

This will set adultery
back 50 years.

Good evening, inspector.

And now we are going
to raid this brothel.

Brothel, inspector?

This is an industrial
training center, inspector.

Dormitories.

Classrooms.

I assure you, inspector,
we exist only to offer

'these poor,
deprived girls instruction'

'in every type of employment.'

'One day,
perhaps even police work.'

This house belongs
to Miss Pacefoot now.

Exactly,
and my overseas properties

I have made over to my cousin

as the Chinese trade attache
will confirm.

'Farewell, my lovelies!'

But there was a brothel here.

I know there was.

Where has it all gone?

An entirely new dimension

in airborne entertainment!

Pie in the sky!

The thing that
I've a-a-always wondered

about private dining rooms… is

what do you do after dining?

After dining…

Well, Benjamin, I will tell you.

Benjamin!

What you do is…

Yes? Yes, Josephine?

You lurch.

'Whoa! Whoa!'

Whoa!

I'm sorry, Mr. Leybourne.

I was a friend of your
late father and mother.

'I spent many weekends
at their house.'

Many happy weekends.

They gave me
one of the main bedrooms.

That pretty upstairs maid.

'And your mother.'

She, too, was so…

…kind to me.

More than kind, she…

Daddy! Daddy!

'Daddy!'

Yahoo!