All language subtitles for Murdoch.Mysteries.S11E12.1080p.BluRay.x264-YELLOWBiRD

I hope I haven't pressed you
into this.

Don't be silly, William.
I'm happy to accompany you.

- You really don't mind?
- Not at all.

I just hope my morning sickness
passes quickly.

Don't worry, William.

It's worth it
for a healthy baby.

- Well, here we are.
- Yes. Here we are.

Shall we?

This'll do me good.

I'm in need
of some quiet contemplation.

Or a nap.

There's a visiting bishop today.

He's giving a sermon
on confessions.

Perhaps you could glean some
advice for the interview room.

Are you saying I need it?

"I will instruct thee
and teach thee

in the way which thou shalt go."

Psalms.

I'm not a complete heathen,
William.

I have read the Bible.

Good morning.

I shall depart from tradition
this morning

by sharing with you all
some good news.

Yesterday, the church
received a surprise,

the gift of a statue
of the Virgin Mary,

from an anonymous donor.

I hope we can all agree
that this is a most fitting

addition to the church.

And now with Father McGray's
kind permission,

I will deliver
the Lord's message.

Every one of us sins.

We may be made
in the image of the Lord,

but we are all of us
imperfect creations.

We acknowledge our imperfections
by admitting to our sins.

This is the purpose
and the power of confession.

It is not to admit to the Lord
that we have done wrong.

It is to admit to Him
that we are aware

of our weakness
and of our wickedness.

What's going on?

I don't know.

I should also suggest to you
that we...

Virgin Mary, pray for us!

The statue.

It's crying.

I-It's not crying.
That's blood.

Father McGray,
it's good to see you.

Ah, Detective Murdoch.

And Dr. Ogden.
We don't see you often enough.

F-Father,
I would appreciate a word.

I'm afraid
I don't know what to say.

You've seen as much as I have.

Yes.
This statue arrived yesterday?

It was delivered right before
sunrise, and there was no note.

An anonymous benefactor.
Curious.

It's not unheard of
to receive gifts in that manner.

Father, I would like to
examine this statue.

Truth be told, Detective,

I would like to
examine it as well.

Are you reluctant to believe
in miracles, Father?

Officially, no.

Skepticism in these cases

is equated with
doubting our entire faith.

However, it's...

I believe blind faith without
skeptical inquiry is ignorance.

I'll admit I agree.

Will you allow me
to investigate?

Bishop.

Bishop, I'm Detective William
Murdoch, Toronto Constabulary.

I was
just telling Father McGray...

Let me guess.

You were telling him
that you, a layman,

would like to investigate
this miracle.

Correct.

Detective, the Catholic Church
has many cardinals

whose job it is
to rule on these matters.

I intend to leave it
in their most capable hands.

- What are you afraid of?
- I'm sorry, I beg your pardon?

Well, surely if
it's a real miracle,

it would withstand examination.

What occurred here today
is not of the concrete world,

but of the spiritual,

as any good Catholic
would understand.

Good day.

It seems I've been outranked.

I can't do it.

- What's that?
- The bread. I can't do it.

I-It's soft, it's tasteless...

Let me guess.
The food was better in Paris?

You're right about that,
Higgins.

Let me tell you,
every... every meal was a feast.

E-Even bread.
A long, crisp French baguette?

- Oh, work of art.
- You don't say.

- Ruth!
- Henry!

George. I hope you don't mind
this intrusion.

Not at all.

I bought you a present, and I
couldn't wait to give it to you.

Let's see it.

It's a hat!

Oh, you shouldn't have.

Oh! See?

I knew you would look dashing
in that.

What do you think, George?

Oh, yes, that's fine
for over here.

Fine for over here?

George only likes
French things now.

If my trip has broadened
my worldview, then excusez-moi.

I should be going,
but I'll see you soon.

And, Henry, that hat really does
look nice on you.

Thank you, Floopsie.
Rawr.

That Miss Newsome
is really something, huh?

She is indeed.

You know, Higgins,
far be it from me

to give advice,
but if I were you...

I'm gonna ask Ruth for her hand,
George.

What?

Higgins, you've only been
courting her a short while.

I've worn
the same pair of socks longer.

I've got a ring already.

I can't imagine that there's a
better woman than Ruth Newsome.

For you, perhaps.

Well, that's really all that
matters, now, isn't it, George?

I can't believe the Telegraph

has stooped to reporting
false news.

False news? Sir, this
is a real live miracle.

As far as I'm concerned,
it's about time

Toronto caught up with the rest
of the world and had one.

Incredible. Will you go back
to see it again?

I believe I will.

You know, I-I narrowly missed

the relic of St. Rose
while I was in "Paree."

Apparently, if you touched it
and made a wish,

it will come true.

Somebody from this church
made a wish, and it came true.

I bet they're making
piles of money.

Miracles are
a part of the faith.

It's probably rusty water
from a leak in the ceiling.

The ceiling is sound.

- Condensation.
- Unless the statue is metal...

Alabaster.

Alabaster doesn't produce
condensation.

It's a load of bollocks.

Surely you don't believe
this parlor trick.

You're a man of science.

It does warrant a closer look.

Uh, Detective, would you
be opposed to me joining you?

Gentlemen,
what's your business here?

We're protesting.

We hope you're here
to shut this circus down.

I'll decide that.

These Catholics are always
dramatic, but now this?

A fake miracle?
It's an insult.

Bloody papists!

Unless you intend to spend
a night in the cells,

I'd suggest you disperse.

Now.

Excuse me.

Detective Murdoch,
Detective Watts,

Toronto Constabulary.

Pleased to make
your acquaintance, Father...?

Jennings. Welcome.
What can I do for you?

We'd like to take a sample
of the blood for testing.

I'm afraid
I'm new to this church.

I can't
make that decision myself.

Bishop Gorey has decreed that
no one is to touch the statue.

If you'll excuse me, gentlemen.

Please, do not get
too close to the Virgin.

Please, back away.

Well, now might be the time
to take a sample.

I'm afraid I have to respect
the bishop's wishes.

- And I understand that.
- Wha...

You.
What are you doing?

I'm just paying my respects.

- Julia.
- Hello.

Another stomach upset.

- Perhaps you should...
- See a doctor?

Don't worry, I...

Unsettled stomachs can be
a harbinger, Dr. Ogden.

Typhus, cholera, Russian flu.

I'm fine, Detective.

- Have you something for me?
- Yes. Blood.

- Oh. From where?
- The Virgin Mary.

So the church
is cooperating now?

The order to stay away
from the statue stands.

Detective Murdoch
is cooperating.

I am not.

Miss Hart?

The detective
has a blood sample.

Could you put it on a slide,
please?

Certainly.

May I ask, is there
a small part of you

that believes
it might be a miracle?

I prefer logic and science
to faith.

And if logic and science
can offer no explanation?

Consider the bumblebee.

It shouldn't be able to fly,
yet it does.

Well, I believe science
will explain that in time too.

Then you've simply chosen
to put your faith in science

rather than religion.

Well, miracle or not,

this blood
is definitely mammalian.

I will need some time
to ascertain if it's human.

Of course.
Thank you, ladies.

- Uh...
- We should go.

If it is animal blood,

perhaps this is
someone's idea of a joke.

Yes, and if it's human,
perhaps something rather darker.

Hello, I'm Detective...

Have you come to see the Virgin?

- Yes, I have.
- She's crying for me.

Do you think her tears
smell like roses?

I can't say I've noticed that...

Father?

My housekeeper, Miss Beattie,
is overwrought,

as are many in the congregation.

I am striving to guide her
as best as I can.

This is madness.

- I have a confession to make.
- Now?

Detective Watts
took a sample of the blood.

I should be furious,
but I'm not.

I just want this to end.

- What did you find?
- It's human.

- Human? How?
- BEATTIE:

I'm a sinner.

Forgive me.

I'm a murderer!

Perhaps this isn't
the best time.

I understand
that she is distressed.

I'll be brief.

But she has made
a serious claim.

Father, I wish to speak
with Miss Beattie alone.

I think she would rather
that I stayed.

Well, this won't take long.

If you'd prefer,

I could ask that she come down
to the station house.

That won't be necessary.

It's all right, Father.

I'm prepared
to talk to the detective.

How are you feeling,
Miss Beattie?

You stated
that you are a murderer.

Please tell me what you meant.

I haven't been sleeping
very well.

I can't get any peace.

Perhaps it will help
to speak with someone.

It happened
when I was 18 years old.

My mother was ill.

I looked after her
as best I could,

but I was young.

I went out to a dance,
and when I got home...

She had passed away?

She needed her pills,

and I wasn't there
to give them to her.

Now the Virgin Mary
is speaking to me.

She knows I'm guilty.

The statue is speaking to you?

God is speaking to me
through her.

Miss Beattie, I am very sorry
about your mother,

but in the eyes of the law,

that doesn't make you
a murderer.

Just because a person doesn't
shoot or stab or smother

doesn't mean that they aren't
equally guilty of murder.

Bonjour, mon amour!

You two do realize
you're still Canadians?

Travel can change a person,
Constable Higgins.

Often for the better.

Mm, I'm not interested.

You should try a trip
to Paree, Henry.

In fact, it would be an
excellent place for a honeymoon.

There's nothing wrong
with Niagara Falls.

Why would anyone want to get
married? It's terribly passé.

Well, now, there is
something to be said...

Oh, George, do you remember
that handsome couple we met

on the Champs-lysées?

They'd been together for years
and never married.

They were very au courant.

Did they live together?

When it suited them.
It sounded marvelous.

I'll never get married.
I would just die.

Wouldn't you just die, George?

Actually, Nina,
Henry's just told me

that he plans to propose
to Ruth.

That's wonderful!

Do you have a ring?

Yes.

It's simple.

But it's lovely.

Well, it's all I could afford.

Uh, well,
simple is... is... is modern.

Simple's all the rage.

Interesting, isn't it?

Some would think
that the photographic process

was a miracle.

And like most phenomena,

this miracle is the result
of a natural process.

Most phenomena, you say?

So that which confounds
scientific understanding

must then be the divine?

Perhaps science itself
is a creation of the divine.

Well, then you do believe
in miracles.

Bloody left-footers.

First they want us gone,

next they want us
at their beck and call.

I beg your pardon?

Left-footers.
Catholics, Watts, Catholics.

The constabulary has been asked
to supply

'round-the-clock guards
for their miracle.

- Have there been disturbances?
- Well, take your pick, Murdoch.

Not only has some mystery man
stolen the Virgin Mary's tears,

but someone has tried to
smash the statue with a hammer.

Add to that every Catholic
this side of Manitoba

is making a pilgrimage
to the church.

Send Crabtree and Higgins
down there,

see if they can hold back
the Fenian hordes.

Yes, sir.

Eating dinner packed by your
lady love's own personal chef.

Doesn't get much better
than that, George.

I would hardly call
crab paste sandwiches

the height of
a romantic relationship, Henry,

especially ones prepared
by your lady love's servant.

She is awfully grand,
isn't she?

Sometimes I wonder
if I'm good enough for her.

You're plenty good enough,
Henry.

In fact, I think the two of you
are a perfect match.

Maybe she deserves better
than a constable.

Earning a constable's wages.

Don't be daft, Higgins. She
doesn't care about your money.

She's got enough
for both of you.

I'm telling you,
if you marry this woman,

you may never have to
work another day again.

I'll work.
I'm no cad.

Perhaps I won't work
quite as hard, though.

Now, that I find
hard to believe.

Sir!
What are you doing here?

Taking advantage of the privacy.

Sir, you're not... you're not
supposed to touch the statue.

I don't intend to, George.

What is this?

I've modified this Crookes tube
to make a portable Rntgen ray.

Shining the resulting rays
through the statue's head

should give me an image of
what, if anything, is inside.

Oh. You should try it
on Higgins, sir.

You're trespassing.

We were asked here.

To guard the statue.

Father, with all due respect,

we need to know
if this miracle is real.

So you wish to use this
Rntgen ray machine

to take an image
of the interior?

Father, you're familiar
with Rntgen rays?

I visit the Dundas library
regularly.

The scientific journals
are all abuzz

regarding these new X-rays.

So you approve?

Let me just say that I'm
having difficulty believing

that the Virgin's tears
are divine.

Detective Watts.

I've just read a 20-year-old
obituary for one Flora Beattie.

Dead of a heart attack
after a long illness.

Survived by her daughter,
Josephine.

Proof of her confession.

So that particular confession
may be true, but...

You believe
there's something more?

Quite possibly.
Have a look at this.

I've found two small holes,
one in each eye.

I believe the fluid was inserted
with a syringe,

collected in this reservoir.

The plaster in each eye
then allows the fluid

to seep out slowly,
thus making the statue cry.

Have you alerted the church?

Father McGray assures me
of his utmost discretion.

Our only hope of discovering
who created this statue

is to wait for another miracle
to be attempted.

You want her to cry again.

Yes.

But before that can happen,
I need you to find out

where a statue of this quality
might be made.

Take one of these photographs
with you.

So you've definitely proven that
the Virgin Mary isn't crying.

You don't seem pleased,
Detective Watts.

Oh, I'll admit
I found it heartening

to contemplate a miracle,

if only for a passing moment.

We haven't seen a soul in hours.

I don't see why the both of us
have to be here.

- For the company.
- Yes, I know, but...

Perhaps one of us
could take a break.

I'll go first.

Well, the inspector did charge
both of us

with looking after the statue.

Who's that?

Henry, I...

I thought
you were gonna wait outside.

If you two wanted to be alone,
you could've just told me.

No, we were just...

No, this brings
me back to my earlier point

about Toronto.

It's a wonderful city,
but it's too inhibited.

I mean, if we were in France...

- Shall we go for a walk, Henry?
- Yes.

What was that?

It was a bird.

There's no birds at night,
Henry.

- What about owls?
- Owl's not a bird.

Though I suppose
anything's better

than George Crabtree
prattling on.

George?

I know you work
with him, Henry, but...

Well, I don't just
work with him. He's my friend.

He's my best friend.

In fact,
if ever I were to marry...

It would be to George?

No, he would be my best man.

Oh, well,
I suppose he is reliable.

It's all right, Ruth.

You're safe with me.

In fact...

I intend to keep you safe
all your life.

Ruth Alfreda Newsome,

of the Mimico Newsomes...

- Oh, are you all right?
- I...

Higgins saw her come sailing off
the bell tower.

That would account for
these injuries, wouldn't it?

Let's not be too quick to judge.

- This wound is unusual.
- How so?

By the looks of it,
she was struck with something.

Well, yes.
The ground.

Yes, I don't think so.

Curious.

There are fresh scratches
on both arms.

So where was she
before the bell tolled for her?

Never seen it before.

Are you sure?

Have another look.

I know the statues
I've carved.

That's not one of them.

Well, your friend over there
told me differently.

Well, there's nothing more
to say.

The head of this statue
is filled with human blood

from an unknown person,

and therefore falls in the
purview of the constabulary.

Blood?

Don't you read the papers?
It's wreaking havoc in Toronto.

Well, that has nothing to do
with me.

Unfortunate, isn't it?

That you're
withholding evidence.

I'll have to
shut this place down today...

Hey, you can't do that.

...and take you into the
station house for questioning,

unless someone can tell me
who commissioned that statue.

Look, he paid me extra
not to talk to anyone about it.

What was his name?

I have it written down
on the bill.

You didn't have to
accompany me to the top, sir.

More than able, Murdoch.

Besides,
four eyes are better than two.

Foot the ladder, Murdoch.

This must be
where she jumped from.

It's a long bloody way down,
Murdoch.

Well...

A note.

"I cannot live with myself or
this terrible secret any longer.

I must either confess
or end my life."

Sounds like
a suicide note to me.

That doesn't make any sense.

Miss Beattie did confess.

To myself and to Father McGray.

Confession doesn't necessarily
make the guilt go away.

Blood.

I believe this is where

she sustained the injury
to her forehead.

You think somebody maybe
pushed her into the bell,

then threw her off the tower?

Roses.

Sir, does it look to you like
the dirt around these rosebushes

has been recently disturbed?

I can't see.
I can't really tell.

Maybe.

Do you recall the scratches
on Miss Beattie's arms?

Let's hope whatever was there
still is.

Age before beauty, sir.

Let the dog see the rabbit,
Murdoch.

Murdoch never digs.
Never bloody digs.

Never digs.

It's always
me or Crabtree digging.

Perhaps a bit to the left.

There's something.

Poor little sod.

Judging by the size
of the remains

and the fact that the posterior
fontanel had yet to close...

...I'd say this child
was a newborn.

But why bury it under a bush,

with the church cemetery
so close?

Perhaps someone
wanted to pretend

this child never existed.

We'll find out
everything we can.

This might be difficult.
How are you feeling, Miss Hart?

Oh, I'm... I'm fine.

In our work so far,

we haven't had occasion
to examine an infant.

Well, that is true,

but there's no point of crying
or carrying on.

Terrible things happen
all the time.

I just try not to
think about it.

That's an admirable trait.

You think so?

Not only has she gone back
to Mimico,

but she's taken to her bed,
saying that she has the vapors.

Oh, dear.
Have you gone to visit her?

She wrote in her letter
that I shouldn't think of it.

She doesn't want to
see you anymore?

I'm not sure.

I think that every time
she looks at me now, she sees...

She sees a dead body
landing at your feet.

It must've been horrible.

I thought a moonlit stroll
would be romantic.

Go and see her, Henry.
Bring her flowers.

She knew that I was
just about to propose.

I was down on one knee.

Well, "cest" la vie, Henry.

Women are often
fickle creatures.

Perhaps she just was...

Nina, you didn't read
the letter, now.

Let's not torture poor Henry.

George...

Just take this for me.

I won't be needing it.

Higgins!

I'll try to sell it for you!

So also a possibility.

- My suspicion was correct.
- Don't you ever knock?

What have you, Detective?

A sculptor there
did make the statue.

And?

I know who ordered
and paid for it.

You are coming with us, Father.

Father Jennings?

How extraordinary.

Why did he do it?

I'm about to interview him.

Did he have anything to do with

that poor infant
you found buried?

I believe the statue
and the baby

are connected somehow, but...

During your postmortem,

did you happen to determine
if she had ever carried a child?

No, I was just looking for
cause of death.

- I'll reexamine her right away.
- Thank you.

William,
something strange happened,

and I can't seem to get it
out of my mind.

What is it?

Did it seem odd to you

that Miss Hart
was completely unmoved earlier?

- She's new at the profession.
- Precisely!

How has she learned so quickly
to divorce herself from emotion?

It would seem to me
that those qualities

would make her
an excellent clinician.

But even an expert can have
sympathy for the patient.

Of course.

You're probably right.

She has taken to the morgue
exceptionally well.

All right, Father,
you can start by telling us

why you commissioned
this statue.

I have nothing to do with it.

We spoke with the sculptor
who made it.

- He gave us your name.
- I had his word.

In the real world, Father,

a man's word very rarely
accounts for much.

What were your intentions?

I most certainly
didn't mean for Miss Beattie

to take her own life.

She didn't.

We believe she was murdered.

Perhaps you were the one
who pushed her.

No, I-I didn't.
I swear.

Father Jennings,

help us understand why you
created this false miracle.

I can't say anything.

Why not?

All I can say is that
I wanted to root out evil.

I thought that this miracle

might make those
who committed evil

confess to the police.

What does this have to do
with Miss Beattie?

Did she discover that you had
the statue made?

No.

We found an infant's body
buried in the rectory gardens.

- Was it Miss Beattie's child?
- I cannot say!

Can't say or won't say?

Right, that's it.

We're arresting you
on the suspicion of murder.

You can sit in a cell
till you decide...

Do what you want with me, but
please don't stop investigating.

- Then tell us what you know.
- I told you, I cannot.

I know the facts as God,
not as a man.

What was that all about,
he knows the facts as God?

He must've heard someone admit
to a crime in confessional,

and under Catholic law he
cannot tell us what he heard.

- Well, that's ridiculous.
- To you, maybe.

But if he told us what he heard,
he would be excommunicated.

- So he's useless to us.
- Perhaps not.

Julia...

Dr. Ogden couldn't come.
She had to rush off.

She's a very busy woman.

Yes, she is.
I understand.

We examined
Miss Beattie further.

Her pelvic inlet was widened,

indicating she did indeed
carry and deliver a child.

Very good.

Thank you, Miss Hart.

This must be very difficult
for you, being a Catholic.

I just wanted to let you know
that I understand.

Are you a Catholic as well?

I find it's my faith
that keeps me strong

when the morgue
becomes distressing.

Yes, yes. Your composure
has been impressive.

Many people might find
working with the dead upsetting,

to say the least.

Honestly, I find it
the perfect fit.

In fact, I've been thinking
once I complete university

that I, too, would like
to become a coroner.

Indeed.

Perhaps I'll even
marry a detective.

Father Jennings?

If I tell you
what I believe to be true,

can you confirm if I'm correct?

I said all I can.

I had the statue made
and my blood filled it.

- That's all you can tell me?
- Yes.

I know Miss Beattie had a child,

and I believe that child
was the one

I found buried
under the rosebushes.

I can't answer that.

Was it Miss Beattie
who confessed to you?

Sir, you understand my dilemma.

- And you understand mine.
- Yes.

There is a way we can solve it.

How?

Attend evening Mass tonight.

Stand at the pulpit
and publicly confess

that you ordered the statue
and that it was your blood.

But that's not all you'll say.

- Miss Newsome.
- Miss Bloom.

Forgive my intrusion,
but I must speak with you.

Sorry, I'm not feeling well.

I've come on behalf
of Constable Higgins,

who's just sick about
what happened that night...

Please don't mention it.

...when a body landed
right in front of you.

You mentioned it.

It didn't have
anything to do with him.

It was a sign from above.

Our love,
it wasn't meant to be.

We're cursed.

Constable Higgins
is nursing a broken heart.

He's still in love with you.

Even though his proposal
wasn't perfect...

What proposal?

- His marriage proposal.
- He was proposing marriage?

- He got down on one knee.
- I thought he stumbled.

I mean, I stumble all the time.

Just the other week
when I was...

He wants to marry me?

My second suitor in a year.

Good evening, everyone.

If I could beg your indulgence
before Father McGray's sermon.

I have something I need to
confess to you all.

I created a false miracle.

The Virgin Mary isn't crying
tears of her own blood.

It's my blood.

You will ask, "Why?"

And I say to you...

...there is evil in this church.

There dwells within a sinner
who must confess publicly.

I know that my actions
will cause my excommunication,

but I will then be free
to go to the authorities

with what I know.

Please, forgive me.

It's over.

Father.

I was protecting Miss Beattie.

She had a child out of wedlock,
and that child died.

She buried him under
the rosebushes two years ago,

but the guilt laid too heavily
on her,

and she took her own life.

So you were going to
kill Father Jennings

to keep her secret.

It meant so much to her in life.

It was an evil impulse, I know.

But I don't think I would've
really gone through with it.

Do you think I will serve
any time in prison?

I don't believe so.

Your sentence will most likely
be hanging.

I beg your pardon?

Two years ago, Father Jennings,

while at St. Francis
in Kitchener,

took a confession from a man

who admitted to fathering
a child out of wedlock.

That man was a priest.

Poor tortured soul.

I believe the man
in the confessional was you.

Well, it's not true.

He sent that statue
in the hopes of scaring you

into confessing
to the authorities.

The baby was yours, wasn't it?

She was
a deeply troubled woman.

We found this note
in the bell tower.

"I cannot live with myself

and this terrible secret
any longer."

She was going to expose you,
wasn't she?

We also found blood on the bell
matching the wound on her head.

Did you?

This Virgin Mary miracle
has unearthed

a lot of dark secrets for you,
Father McGray.

Secrets that just won't rest.

Josephine knew you killed
the baby and she was complicit.

She couldn't live with it
any longer.

Her child deserved
a proper burial.

But you couldn't do that,

and Josephine wouldn't
keep quiet any longer.

So you killed her
and planted this note

to make it appear
as though it were a suicide.

Isn't that right?

I had to.

You did not.

I confessed before God.

Why wasn't that enough?

I can't believe that anyone

would fall for
that miracle malarkey.

Still, I suppose some folk
want to believe

there's something more
out there.

Do you, Inspector?

Do I 'eck as like, Murdoch.

I believe in sleeping in
on a Sunday morning,

followed by roast beef
and Yorkshire pudding

Sunday afternoon.

That's all the comfort I need.

Higgins, there's all kinds
of single ladies in Toronto.

All around the world,
as a matter of fact.

I should travel the world

looking for a girl
who'll have me?

That's your advice?

Well, I mean, you know,
start in your own backyard.

As a matter of fact,

there's a local lady making
her way over here right now.

I've told you I don't...

RuRu?

I'll make myself scarce.

Hello.

Ruth, I... I wasn't
expecting you.

And I wasn't expecting
to seek you out either.

Or to lose
the hybrid tea rose competition

to Erma Birch last month.

Well, here we are.

I'm awful glad to see you.

Are you?

I was thinking...

I can't imagine meeting

a more honorable man than you,
Henry Higgins,

and if we have suffered
a mishap,

I suppose it shall
only make us stronger.

Ruth, what are you saying?

That I must apologize to you.

I do hope you can forgive
my cruelty.

You weren't cruel.

Henry...

There is one other thing
that I must say to you.

What's that?

Will you marry me?

Y-Yes!

Yes!

Oh, I'm so sorry.
Are you okay?

Detective Murdoch,

I must tell you
I was not pleased to learn

you had gone behind my back
to examine the statue.

Yes.
I'm sorry, Father.

Police business.

Nevertheless.

I'll go to confession.

Good day.

I suppose we'll soon be asking
the bishop for a baptism.

William.

I've just gotten used to
being with child.

Let's take one step at a time.

Is that Miss Hart?

Yes, I believe it is.
How curious.

Well, she did tell me earlier
that she's also a Catholic.

Perhaps it's not so strange
that she'd be at the burial.

Well, that's odd.

She told me
she wasn't religious at all.

Perhaps you misheard?

Perhaps I did.