Original subtitles

What a way to die.

Mauled to death.

Henry.

You don't know that's what happened.

You didn't see it, George.

Those terrible scratches on his face alone

- would let you know if you did. - Sir.

- What have you, George? - Sir, the man who discovered him

was checking his snares this morning.

He seemed surprised, almost disappointed,

to find that he'd snagged a human.

I suppose he was expecting his dinner.

Right. Have him come down to the station house for a word.

Do we know the victim's identity yet?

He has nothing on his person, sir.

We searched the area for his wallet... no luck.

Judging by the scratches on his face,

I'd say he was attacked by an animal of some kind.

Well, Higgins has a theory, sir.

- George. - Does it pertain to this case?

He certainly thinks it does. He hasn't shut up about it.

Henry?

Sir, it's like a...

I only saw it for a minute.

Saw what?

You'd better follow me, sir.

This way.

Now, I warn you, sir... It's not a pretty sight.

I'll prepare myself.

You may want to keep your distance, as well.

Stay back, sir.

It may look harmless, but I've seen that thing

kill and eat a live chicken with my own eyes.

- Really? - Look no further, sir.

It's your Killer.

How do you know about this, Henry?

Well, I paid to see it, sir.

It was 10 cents, but it was worth it.

From the shores of Borneo, sir.

Or... it could have been the mountains.

- I don't recall exactly, sir... - Who cares for her?

Well, a keeper. He collects the money.

I don't know. She hardly seems...

What the hell are you two doing in here?

Show's not open for another hour.

Detective Murdoch, Toronto Constabulary.

Well, you still have to pay.

10 cents each you owe me.

I've paid once already. He hasn't...

Who are you?

Mick Travis.

And this is my property.

So police or no police, you're trespassing.

- Now, what do you want? - A man was killed last night

not half a mile from here.

Where were you?

N WwW here we re you?"

Don't you be flimflamming with your penny-ante questions.

You're not interested in where I was.

Very well.

Where was she?

She was locked up all night and nowhere near your dead man.

And why do you keep her caged?

To keep her safe.

It's in her own best interest.

And charging admission to view her in a cage...

Is that also in her best interest?

She's paying her keep.

- Mr. Travis, is it? - Aye.

You're coming with us to the station house.

I have no reason to.

Do I have to arrest you?

- Come on. - Don't lay your hands on me.

I'm doing nothing

the law says I can't.

Unlawful confinement of a person or persons.

You're coming with us.

I finished my anatomy report on the unclaimed bank robber.

- Mrs. Braxton? - Yes.

I appreciated the opportunity, Dr. Ogden.

Well, if you put what you learn to good use,

her unfortunate death will not be for nothing.

I trust that she offered some challenges.

Yes, she did.

Good.

Now we can give Roland's mother a proper burial.

Thank you, gentlemen.

So, what did you glean?

Surely there was something.

There was, indeed, Dr. Ogden.

Mrs. Braxton was not a full woman.

Meaning?

She had no ovaries.

She was born without a complete reproductive system.

She couldn't bear children?

Whoever she is, she isn't your baby's mother.

Who is that girl that you keep locked up?

And don't give me that story about Borneo.

I came across her in the Appalachian Mountains

some 10 years ago.

Well, she came across me, more like.

How so?

I was asleep in the caravan

when I heard something rummaging round my campfire.

In the darkness, I thought it was a bear and almost shot it.

- Where did she come from? - No idea.

You ask me, she was raised by wolves.

Highly unlikely.

She's wild as the day's long, mister.

So you keep her caged like a beast.

Oh, she's clothed and fed

and in a better state than when I found her.

And before you start, she's legally mine.

Here's the paper to prove it.

There you go.

Named her Fen for the record.

Check for yourself.

And she's happy where she is.

I very much doubt that.

There's no force the way I handle her.

She's content long as she gets fed.

So no law broken.

See for yourself.

I've nothing to hide.

Do you know this man?

Never clapped eyes on him.

I had to stop myself

from throttling the man who keeps her.

I have neither the ability to arrest him or to rescue her.

- She is his legal property. - That's appalling.

A man is allowed to exhibit a young girl in a cage,

and there's nothing I can do about it.

What of our victim's body?

His wounds were mostly superficial,

the most pronounced being facial lacerations.

He was gouged, likely by claws or nails.

And this.

A deep bite on his right hand.

The wounds were made with pointed incisor teeth.

So likely an animal attack, then?

That would have been my conclusion

if not for the stab wound in his upper back.

The thrust was a downward motion, but not a fatal blow.

Then how did he die?

He bled to death.

If he hadn't been trapped, he may have survived.

What time would he have been stabbed?

I couldn't say. I only know that he died

between 2:00 and 4:00 in the morning.

He may have been in the snare for hours afterward.

That, or he was attacked while in the snare.

By this feral child?

No. She was inside a cage at the time of the murder.

William, I'd be most interested in examining her

- if it would help. - Of course.

Thank you, Julia.

Oh, I spoke with the nanny at the hotel,

and she assures me that Roland is fine.

I know you were concerned about leaving him with a stranger.

She'd let us know if he needs us?

Of course, of course.

And the animal bones that I saw in her cage, George...

Some of them are too big to be from chickens.

She may be eating cats and dogs even.

Maybe even a goat.

Could be a small goat, Henry.

You know, you joke, but the keeper told us

she fought off a wolf when she was 7 years old.

She has a nasty scar on her arm to prove it.

Wait. These would be the wolves that raised her, I assume?

Don't be so ridiculous, George.

They wouldn't be the same wolves.

The attack likely came from a rival pack.

Henry, let's get to work.

Right?

What were you hoping to catch, Mr. Hewitt?

Well, it wasn't a man, I can tell you that.

You see, something is Killing livestock at my farm.

I reckoned whatever it is roams the ravine,

and I aimed to catch it.

Your farm is near where you set the snare, correct?

- Yes. - Were you at home that night?

Did you not hear a man cry out?

I heard noises,

but I thought it was the animal I was looking to catch.

I didn't know it was human

until I checked the snare this morning, God rest his soul.

My detective agency is at your disposal.

I appreciate that, Miss Pink.

How can I help?

I've just learned some distressing news

about the baby William and I adopted.

Well, about his deceased mother, actually.

What is it?

She wasn't born with a complete reproductive system.

She couldn't have been Roland's natural mother.

Well, that must have been a bolt out of the blue.

It never occurred to either of us to question his parentage.

And what do you want me to do?

Find out if his natural mother is alive.

- Can I ask for your discretion? - Absolutely.

What do you know about the mother and her husband?

Not much.

Nigel Braxton was a safecracker from England.

His wife, Joanne, was from Stratford, Ontario.

I think her maiden name was Perly.

And they have no surviving family.

- How old is the child? - About 9 months.

Are you sure that you want to know the truth?

What do you mean?

It's a question that I ask all of my clients.

What I find out for them isn't always what they'd hoped for.

At this moment, I can't say.

I will be in touch.

Thank you.

She's gone.

I came back from the station house to set up for the show,

and she was gone.

Has this happened before?

She's never been set free.

Don't know what she's capable of.

This lock... It's faulty.

Did you not notice?

Sure if I noticed I would have fixed it, wouldn't I?

This means the girl

could have gotten out the night of the murder.

Constables will pair off

and search for this girl in an orderly fashion.

The local farmers who are upset about their dead livestock

will be joining us.

The armory has been opened, but only use force if necessary.

Having said that, be cautious.

This girl could be vicious.

Crabtree, bring the lads up to speed.

Our little man doesn't seem too harmed

by his day with the nanny.

I won't be staying for dinner.

I'm joining the search for the missing young woman.

You think she could be the killer?

I don't know, but I'd rather a mob didn't decide.

You still have no idea who she is?

No.

But in spite of Mr. Travis' claims, she wasn't always feral.

At the very least, she had a mother who gave birth to her.

Yes, she did.

- Are we ready, men?! - Ready!

I say we shoot whatever it is and ask the questions after!

You pull a stunt like that. And it will be murder.

I'll personally see to it that you'll all bloody hang for it,

no matter who pulls the trigger.

She killed a man

and won't get away with it as long as I'm standing.

- That's right! - Night will fall soon.

That's when she's likely to move.

Ready the torches.

You'll not be readying anything until I say so. Got it?

Right, then.

Each of you will pair up with a constable.

Crabtree, you talk to that farmer.

You... stick with me.

Keep your eyes open.

George, there you are.

- Sir. - I need you to come with me.

The girl, Fen...

She's likely to flee from the light of the torches.

But then, sir, how will we see?

- With these. - Good gracious.

Now, George, if you were trying to get away,

which direction would you be likely to go in?

Sir, I would follow the river.

Exactly.

So, you have something?

Not yet.

I need more information on Roland.

Any physical details that may help to identify him?

There's nothing.

He's... He's completely perfect.

Freddie, now that you're here, I've been thinking.

Yes?

If Roland's parents were looking for him,

surely they would have informed the Constabulary.

Maybe so.

Perhaps they don't care.

You're having second thoughts.

You asked if I wanted to know the truth.

Perhaps not knowing is the better course.

You wouldn't be the first of my clients to change their mind.

No father could be better than William.

He loves the boy. He truly is his son.

And you, Julia?

I can't bear the thought of not having Roland.

Then it's settled.

He couldn't have better parents.

You must never question that.

Come on! Over here!

I've got nothing!

Nothing that way.

Look. Over there.

It won't get away this time.

Everyone, stay close.

Go! Go!

Get it! Get it!

Hewitt, get back!

Don't hurt me! Please!

Please.

He's no more of a beast than I am.

Let's leave the man in peace.

Can you see all right, George?

Sir, as clear as day.

Not quite as clear as day, but I can see.

I can see.

What is it?

It's Mr. Travis.

Looking for his girl no doubt.

Well, that's the thing, George.

He's quite purposefully walking the opposite direction

toward his campsite.

That's odd, for sure.

I'll follow him, George.

You keep going along the river.

That's the direction he just came from.

Sir.

Sir.

Sir! Sir!

Come here... quick!

Sir!

It's all right.

It's all right.

Sir! Sir!

- Aaaahh! - George!

Get off!

Stop. Hold still.

You're fine.

Well done, George.

You all right?

I think so, sir.

She's tethered.

Someone is hiding her here.

Travis most likely, sir.

Right.

You must have stumbled upon her lair.

You approached her.

She felt threatened, so she attacked you.

Should I bring her back to the cells?

No, no.

The Toronto Asylum under Dr. Ogden's care will be best.

Right.

Do you think she's the killer, sir?

She certainly seems capable of it.

I have to agree.

All right.

Fen, I'm going to put you to sleep for a little while.

My goodness.

Hard to believe it's the same girl.

Her persona was very much exaggerated...

her hair and body unwashed.

That's quite a scar?

Yes. From an animal attack some years ago.

Mr. Travis claims that she was mauled by a wolf.

That's quite possible, William.

Her teeth have been deliberately filed down into points.

I took an impression.

It matches our victim's bite mark.

I'd be worried about that, George.

Dr. Ogden's looked at it, and she says it's healing nicely.

It does hurt like the devil, though.

- Maybe you caught something. - Something?

Rabies?

Henry, she's a girl, not a dog.

What if she bit a dog before she bit you?

George, you're not thinking clearly.

That's a symptom, you know.

Where is he?!

You've no right to keep her.

She's my property.

And I've a lineup of customers waiting.

Well, then they'll just have to wait.

But thanks for popping in,

because we've got some questions we'd like to ask you.

What were you doing in the woods last night, Mr. Travis?

Looking for the girl. Why else?

You were not looking for her.

- You were hiding her. - Now, why would I do that, huh?

Stop playing the innocent.

You let her out, tied her up...

no doubt waiting for the perfect opportunity

to go back, get her, and leave town.

Meanwhile, the Constabulary and half the neighborhood

are on a wild-goose chase looking for her.

Enough with the lies, Mr. Travis.

What is going on?

You're right... I was leaving.

I wanted to get her as far away from this town

before you bloodthirsty lot

strung her up for something she had nothing to do with.

We have evidence that she attacked the victim.

Like what?

Her bite mark on his hand.

You call that evidence?

I warn all the spectators not to get too close to her cage.

Now, that only proves the man can't listen to sound advice.

- When did the victim see her? - How would I know?

Lots of people come through.

She's quite the attraction.

Now, where are you keeping her?

She's in better hands than yours.

You're safe here, Fen.

Safe.

No one will hurt you.

Would you like to listen to some music?

What are you trying to say?

William.

You're here just in time to see these gestures she's making.

- What do they mean? - I have no idea.

They require further observation.

But her appearance, her choice in food, the scars...

They all suggest she's been living in the wild

for some time.

Fascinating.

I can understand why people would want to pay to see her.

Oh, Julia, surely not.

What are we doing but watching her, William?

About time you paid for help.

- How much you offering? - 5 cents.

- 10. - A nickel. Final offer.

What do you know?

I seen him.

Did you, now?

He wanted to see that beast in the cage.

- What of it? - I took him there.

Near the river.

What?

It was right here two days ago.

Yes, I'm sure it was.

Give us that nickel back, you little thief.

The tent was right here... Honest.

I swear. It's the truth.

Here.

You stay out of trouble, all right?

So, the victim

was definitely attacked here at Travis' campsite.

Which the lying sod failed to tell us moved.

Bloody Irish tinkers.

Nothing but trouble when they show up in their caravans.

10 to one that that knife's the murder weapon.

Not a single fingermark, sir.

There are traces of blood,

but it's been deliberately wiped clean.

Had to be Travis.

The girl wouldn't have the wherewithal to do that.

Exactly.

Well, then what about the bite marks?

Well, the victim got too close to her.

As you discovered, Fen reacts violently when approached.

Indeed, she does.

So the victim and the girl

were involved in some kind of altercation.

Or Travis set her on him.

Either way, Travis stabbed him and then tried to cover it up.

But why?

Any news from the victim, Crabtree?

Nothing yet, sir, but I've widened my search.

I've sent out a province-wide description.

Constables.

Come with me. I've found the killer.

Constables.

See? I got it. A vicious coyote.

And he's the killer?

- He is, indeed. - Ah.

So, uh, explain to me how he could use that.

Julia?

Such a nice surprise. How are you?

I just picked up our little man

and thought we'd drop by for a visit.

I've been trying to get Fen interested in food.

She shows a passing interest in oatmeal.

Any other changes?

She's still making the gestures,

but I haven't been able to decipher any pattern.

Certainly doesn't match any sign language that I can find.

Perhaps it is just random.

Hello, Roland. Am I ignoring you?

The nanny says that we're to feed him more often.

He's hardly underfed, William.

I agree, but she insists.

There. No?

See?

You're not even hungry.

Do you see that, William?

Do you like the baby?

Do you want to see the baby?

I think she's more interested in you, William.

Pa.

- She's speaking. - Pa.

- Pa. - After a fashion.

Pa.

Do you think maybe she recognizes

that I'm Roland's father?

And that's what all the speaking and gestures are about?

It seems to be some form of primitive language.

Well, we know she had a father at some point.

It appears so.

I've been expecting your call.

You have?

You don't seem the type of person

who's comfortable with unanswered questions.

I want you to keep looking for his parents.

Well, in fact, I've carried on with my search,

anticipating this very thing.

So you have something?

Please tell me it's not a mother pining for her lost child.

Not exactly.

After her parents died,

I found out that Joanne Perly left Stratford.

But the trail went cold after that.

So I checked into Mr. Braxton.

It seems he left England for the bright lights of Brantford.

There, he met and married Joanne.

How did they get Roland?

The woman I think was Roland's mother

lived out of town on a homestead.

She went into labor earlier than her time,

there were complications, and she died.

What happened to Roland?

The rural midwife was the only person present.

She reported that the baby was never delivered.

The midwife was Joanne Braxton.

She stole the dead woman's child.

It's the only birth she attended that fits with Roland's age.

And then she and her husband left the area shortly after.

What about Roland's father? Is he still alive?

He is.

He was working out of the province

at the time of his wife's death.

He never questioned the official report.

My God.

No one knows the baby exists.

No one misses him.

No one mourns him.

He is yours, Julia.

Is this good news or bad?

What would William say?

He still doesn't know.

Keeping a secret this profound from him

would be a betrayal of the trust between us.

But if I tell him...

He will feel duty-bound to return Roland to his father.

So leaving him in blissful ignorance

could be the better path.

If you think you can do that.

Sir.

I found a missing-persons report that matches our victim.

- Who is it? - A Hugo de Jaager.

Left his family home in Peterborough

for Toronto a week ago.

Hasn't been heard from since.

- What's all this? - Sir, this is his research.

He told his mother before he left

he was sure he was going to find her this time.

- Her? - The girl, sir.

The feral girl.

Finding her became his life's work.

George, these were written years ago.

Mr. de Jaager would have still been in school.

Indeed, he was, sir.

I took the liberty of going through his material.

His diaries are very intriguing.

Very well-written for a young lad.

What did you learn?

Well, sir, it seems that young Hugo

preferred his own company to that of other boys.

He spent long hours wandering the woods near his family farm.

I suppose you could say he was the loner type, sir.

In any case, one day,

while exploring one of his usual haunts,

he came upon a strange and wondrous sight...

A pair of feral creatures, sir.

A girl and a boy.

He describes them in great detail, sir...

Their wild appearance,

their animal-like movements, often on all fours, sir.

I can probably illustrate...

Perhaps another time, George.

Thank you.

- Go on. - Right.

Sir, when Hugo tried to convince his mother,

or anybody else who would listen, about the children,

they dismissed his tales as wild imaginings.

But he never stopped looking for the children, sir.

This is all very interesting, George,

but what has it to do with our case?

Hugo stopped trying to convince people about the children.

They became part of his own private world...

until, one day, the partially decomposed body of a young boy

was found in the woods by some hunters.

Apparently he'd been attacked by wolves.

Near the boy's body

was the torn and bloody clothes of a young girl.

But the girl was never found dead or alive.

He became haunted by the mystery

of what happened to this young girl.

It took a hold of him, as you can see.

He's been searching for her ever since.

And he came to Toronto believing that he had found her.

According to his last words to his mother, sir,

he was quite confident.

I think perhaps he did find her and paid the price for it.

When am I getting my property back?

Settle down, Travis.

We need to ask you a few questions.

We now know that you found Fen

somewhere a little closer than the Appalachian Mountains.

- So, what if I did? - So, where was it?

Would be 20 miles or so outside of Peterborough.

Not a very glamorous locale, so I dressed it up a little.

Give the punters their money's worth.

So the whole story's a lie.

Not all of it.

I did almost shoot her, thinking she was a bear.

She was very young.

No more than 8, I reckoned.

Badly injured and starving.

I fed her, treated her wounds.

She recovered, got back her strength,

but never uttered more than the odd sound.

Never took to being civilized.

Happy in her own filth.

And that's when you started thinking

she could help pay her way

and you created the myth of the wild child.

That's about the sum of it, yeah.

Until Mr. de Jaager discovered your campsite.

He threatened to expose your show as a hoax,

and you realized you were about to lose your meal ticket.

What are you saying?

What the detective is saying

is you had clear motive for murder.

I'm glad you find it funny

because you're under arrest, Travis.

It seems like I'm not the only one

with a gift for the tall tale,

You gents have come up with a beaut.

Might even work it into my show.

This was the murder weapon.

My constable found it at your old campsite...

the one you were staying at the night of the murder.

Why did you move campsites?

I move whenever I want.

That's the beauty of a home on wheels.

This is your knife, is it not?

Might be.

Might not be.

But I doubt you can prove I ever touched that thing.

So if I'm the murderer...

...show me the evidence that will hang me.

I didn't have enough to hold him in custody.

The only person who knows what happened that night is Fen.

The bite mark is proof enough that she met Mr. de Jaager.

But we can't communicate with her.

William, how did those two children

come to be living in the woods?

They were so young.

George is combing The Peterborough Examiner

for clues.

There has to be a story, but likely not a happy one.

And one that we may never know.

Julia, when he's old enough,

we're going to have to tell Roland about his parents.

As hurtful as it may be to learn that they were criminals...

Hi... he should know.

You should know, hmm?

Are you sure?

Yes. I should meet Roland's father.

His name is Harold Connor.

Julia, it will be hard to turn back once you go down this road.

- Good day. - Good day.

How can I help you?

I'm collecting for the local children's hospital.

Would you care to make a donation, however modest?

Well, cabinetmakers don't make much,

but I think I could contribute a little something.

Every penny counts.

- Do you have children? - No, I don't.

It's a shame.

There was a time

when I thought I'd pass my skills on to a son...

or a daughter for that matter.

But it wasn't to be.

50 cents.

- Would that be enough? - Absolutely.

You know, you might have more luck in another part of town.

People around here are barely putting food on the table.

It's not they don't have good hearts, you understand.

I just don't want my neighbors feeling badly

for having to say no to you.

Of course. That's very thoughtful.

Thank you for your time.

Have a good day.

I started when the poor boy's body was found,

and I'm working backwards from there.

I'm down to 1890.

It's very illuminating, sir,

once you drop into the minutia of it.

Here's a story about a sow that gave birth to 13 piglets.

Now, that's a North Kawartha Township record.

Very interesting.

Sir. Come look at this.

"A farmer reports two British Home Children

ran away from his employ...

A boy, 8 years old; And a young girl of 5."

It seems the farmer was more concerned with the hardship

of replacing them than the welfare of the children.

Well, see, these Home Children,

they were orphan workers sent here as cheap labor.

They were often very mistreated.

Whatever the reason they may have left,

these could be the two children Mr. de Jaager saw in the woods.

The girl could be Fen, sir. The timeline matches.

This is 13 years ago.

It says the boy was mute.

Sir, that's probably why the wolves got him.

The poor thing couldn't cry out to scare them away.

Wolves are like that, sir.

They'll go for the weakest of the bunch.

Perhaps she tried to save him

and almost got herself mauled to death.

If I'm needed, I'll be at the asylum.

- Check into that detail. - Julia.

I believe I've discovered the origin of Fen's gestures.

You have?

She ran away with a boy who was mute.

Pardon?

Right, sorry.

George found a report of two Home Children

who ran away in roughly the area where Hugo de Jaager

says he spotted two feral children.

They would have been about 8 and 5 at the time.

Wasn't the boy 11 when he was killed by wolves?

Yes, and Mr. Travis figures

that Fen was about 8 when he found her.

The two of them survived all that time alone.

Perhaps they developed this language

to communicate with each other.

That's extraordinary, William.

Fen.

Fen.

Fen...

...this man.

Man.

Um, who hurt...

this man?

Perhaps using her own experience of pain

may help to convey the question you're trying to ask.

Fen.

Hurt.

Hurt.

[ Breathes sharply I Hurt.

Hurt? Hurt.

Yes. Hurt.

Fen, this man.

Who hurt...

this man?

Pa. Pa.

That's the same gesture and sound she made

when she saw you with Roland.

Is she saying "father"?

She could be.

Pa.

I think she's trying to tell us who hurt Mr. de Jaager.

You were feeding Roland when she became so animated.

Perhaps she's referring to the man who feeds her.

Her keeper, Mick Travis.

Is she trying to tell us he's the killer?

There's only one way to find out.

What the hell am I doing here?

Oh, just look on it as a field trip.

Look, I've cooperated with you clowns.

If you think I know anything else, you're wasting your time.

- Shut your mouth, Travis. - Get your hands off me!

I've just had enough of you, you Irish piece of... Aah!

Get off! Get off him!

My property. Lay off.

You can't do that! She's a human!

She's...

Don't lay your hands on her!

Get off! Get off him!

- Are you all right, sir? - I think so.

It's all right.

Shh. See, Fen? No harm done.

Pa isn't hurt.

Fen was helping.

- Pa. - I know. Shh.

- Pa. - It's all right, girl.

It's all right now.

Fen stabbed Hugo de Jaager.

She was trying to protect Mr. Travis.

You caught your murderer.

Makes you happy, does it?

You're going to advocate for Fen to remain at the asylum?

Yes.

Though I can hardly argue that she wasn't in her right mind

when she stabbed Mr. de Jaager.

She was attacking a man she thought was harming her father.

A perfectly rational action.

But she didn't have mens rea... A guilty mind.

So I have considerable leeway.

Can she be helped?

I don't know.

But with further attention and care,

she may be able to learn to control her wildness.

And become civilized.

Given the behavior of some

of the so-called civilized people we encounter in our work,

I wonder what we'd be teaching her.

Well, she did show us that she's capable of empathy, Julia,

by attempting to protect Mr. Travis the way she did.

That is the hallmark of humanity.

No matter what we may think of him as a man,

she saw him as her father.

William, there's something I have to tell you.

You have to look your best, little man.

You're about to meet someone very special.

Mr. Connor.

Detective Murdoch.

He...

He is a miracle.

Meet your son, Roland.

He's a...

lovely little man.

And it's been our honor to care for him.

You are the very best of people.

I have some things for him that you might find useful.

I'll arrange to have them sent over.

I cannot say thank you enough times.

I wish you a long and happy life together.