Original subtitles

- Now, now, Charles, that's not being chivalrous.

- And don't worry, Mr. Wilcox.

There's no place in this game for chivalry.

It tends to bring out the animal in all of us.

Evie, not fair!

- "Dearest Meg, I'm having a glorious time.

"I like them all.

"They are the very happiest, jolliest

"family that you could imagine.

"The fun of it is that they think me a noodle

"and say so, at least Ms. Wilcox does.

"Oh, Meg, shall we ever learn to talk less?

"Oh, but, Meg, Meg, dearest, dearest Meg,

"I don't know what to say or what you will say.

"Paul Wilcox and I are in love.

"We are engaged."

Annie.

- Well, you Schlegel girls.

- Tibby, look.

- Margaret, if I may interfere, what on earth is going on?

- I can tell you nothing, Aunt Juley.

I know no more than you do.

We only met the Wilcoxes last spring

while we were hiking in Germany.

- Oh, dear.

Obviously, someone must go down to

this Howards House and make inquiries.

- Howards End.

- No, Margaret, inquiries are necessary.

What do we know about these Wilcoxes?

Are they our sort?

Are they likely people?

- But Aunt Juley, what does it matter?

Helen's in love.

That's all I need to know.

- Would you please get me a train timetable, dear?

- Morning.

- Morning.

- Paul?

- I'm afraid Crane has reported sick again.

- But he was to take me

to the Warringtons today for tennis.

I told him.

- Probably shamming, of course.

You should get rid of him, Father.

Hire a new chauffeur.

Mother, we're off, goodbye.

- But Charlie, Charlie, wait, wait!

- What?

- Is Papa there?

Wait a minute.

We've got some cherries.

Evie.

- All right, we're off!

- Bye-bye.

- About last night.

- Nothing happened.

- I'm afraid I lost my head, rather.

- Yes, we both did.

It must have been the moonlight, except there was no moon.

Well, that's quite all right.

- Do you mind?

- No.

- You see, I've no money of my own,

and I still have to make my way in Nigeria.

It's beastly out there for a white woman,

what with the climate and the natives and all that.

I say, I do think you're a ripping girl.

- It's quite all right.

No one knows about it.

Meg, I wrote to my sister.

- Oh no, you didn't.

- Yes, I'm sorry.

Look, she's sure to come down.

We must stop her.

- We'll have to send a telegram.

Oh, Crane's off sick.

- Isn't there a bicycle?

- Oh yes, there is, somewhere.

- That will be one

and threepence, halfpenny, sir.

- M.J. Schlegel, Six Wickham Place, London, West.

Dear Meg, all over.

Wish I'd never written.

Tell no one, Helen.

- Excuse me, I'm looking for somewhere called Howards House.

- My parcel?

- The porter has it.

- Mr. Wilcox, this lady wants Howards End.

- Forgive my asking, are you the

younger Mr. Wilcox or the elder?

- The younger, ah.

This station's abominably organized.

If I had my way, the whole lot of them should get the sack.

Thank you. Bernard.

- Thank you. Sir.

- Perhaps I should introduce myself.

I am Ms. Schlegel's aunt.

- Oh, rather, yes, Ms. Schlegel's stopping with us.

Do you want to see her?

- Well, that would be very nice, yes.

- I could run you up in the motor.

- All the Schlegels are exceptional.

They are, of course, British to the backbone

but their father was German, and that is why

they care for literature and art.

- Just one minute.

Wilcox, Howards End.

- I'd like you to know that I come

in no spirit of interference.

I'm here to represent the family, and to talk to you

about Helen, Mr. Wilcox, my niece and you.

- Ms. Schlegel and myself?

- I trust there's been no misunderstanding.

- Well, it is true that I am engaged to be married

but to another young lady, not to Ms. Schlegel.

- Helen wrote to us, Mr. Wilcox.

She has told us everything.

- Good God, it's some foolery of Paul's.

- But you are Paul.

- No, I'm not.

- Then why did you say so at the station?

- I said nothing of the sort.

- I beg your pardon, you did.

- I beg your pardon, I did not.

My name is Charles.

Do you mean to tell me that Paul and your niece have...

The idiot!

Damn fool!

Look, I warn you.

It's useless.

Paul hasn't a penny.

- No need to warn us.

The warning is all the other way.

- Oh, but he hasn't told us, whereas your niece

has lost no time in publishing the news.

- If I were a man, Mr. Wilcox, for that

last remark, I'd box your ears.

You're not fit to sit in the same room as my niece.

- All I know is she spread the news—

- Might I finish my sentence, please?

- No, I decline to argue with such a person!

Let me out of this car this instant!

- Don't try and stand up!

- Stop, stop! - Sit down, sit down!

- Stop! - Just sit down!

For goodness sakes, just...

Push it down.

- It's all right.

- It will, I think, be generally

admitted that Beethoven's Fifth Symphony

is the most sublime noise ever to

have penetrated the ear of man.

What does it mean?

We can hardly fail to recognize in this music

a mighty drama, the struggle of a hero

beset by perils, riding to magnificent

victory and ultimate triumph, as described

in the development section of the first movement.

What I want to draw your attention to now

is the third movement.

We no longer hear the hero, but a goblin.

Thank you, Mother.

- A single, solitary goblin,

walking across the universe,

from beginning to end.

- Why a goblin?

- I beg your pardon?

- Why a goblin?

- Well, it's obvious.

The goblin signifies the spirit of negation.

- But why specifically a goblin?

- Panic and emptiness, that is what the goblin signifies.

Minor, spelling panic.

Major, magnificent.

A hero, triumphant.

- Miss.

Excuse me, Miss, my umbrella.

Miss.

Miss, miss!

- Mrs. Wilcox, I haven't got her wedding dress wet.

- Hurry up, Charles.

- Go on, in you go.

Paul, my hat's in your hand.

- Goodbye.

See you there.

- What astonishing bad luck, that in the whole

of London, they could find no flat to rent

except the one bottled right up against our library window.

- Who could find no flat?

- Oh Tibby, the Wilcoxes.

Surely even you remember that business

last summer with Helen and Paul Wilcox.

- Paul Wilcox.

The one I was expected to thrash within an inch of his life?

- Oh, miss!

- What is it?

- Is Tibby ill?

- Tibby's making tea.

- Oh, well, if it's nothing worse than that.

- Now, Helen, oh dear, something odd has happened.

Promise me you won't mind.

It's the Wilcoxes.

They've taken the flat opposite for

the wedding of their son, the other son.

You do mind.

- Will Paul Wilcox point at our house and say,

"There lives the girl who tried to catch me?"

- Ridiculous.

They've only taken the flat for

a few weeks, the porter said.

- Do we bow, or do we cut them dead?

- Darling, why don't you take up Cousin Frieda's invitation

and go to Hamburg for those few weeks?

- Yes, I think I shall.

Not that it matters, but...

one wouldn't want to keep bumping into Wilcoxes.

- Don't hog all those scones, Tibby.

- Is that young man for us, do you suppose?

He is for us.

- If you'll pardon me, Miss, you took my umbrella.

Quite inadvertently, I'm sure.

At the Ethical Hall, "Music and Meaning."

- I'm so sorry.

I do nothing but steal umbrellas.

Do come in and choose one.

It's all right, Annie.

Now let's see, is yours a hooky or a knobbly?

Mine's a knobbly.

At least, I think it is.

No, that's Tibby's.

How about this one?

I suppose you really oughtn't open these things indoors.

Oh well, never mind.

No, it's all gone along the seams.

It's an appalling umbrella.

It must be mine.

Oh, I'm so sorry.

- Has my sister stolen your umbrella?

Oh, not again, Helen.

She is an incorrigible thief.

I am so sorry.

- I say, do stay for tea, Mister...

- Bast.

- Mr. Bast, won't you stay for tea?

- Oh yes, do stay for tea, Mr. Bast.

It's the least we can do, having made you all wet.

Our brother's upstairs, so you'll have a chaperon.

- Look, he's soaked, Meg, please come up.

- Helen, bring him upstairs.

- What did you think of the lecture?

I don't agree about the goblins, do you?

But I do about the heroes and shipwreck.

You see, I'd always imagined a trio

of elephants dancing at that point.

Well, he obviously didn't.

"Music and Meaning," Margaret.

- Oh, "Music and Meaning."

Does music have meaning, of the literary kind, I mean?

- That's pure slush.

- A guest.

Mr. Bast, won't you take off your coat?

- And trust us with your umbrella?

And sit down.

- Have some tea, won't you?

- How boring it would be if it were only the score.

- China tea?

- Do you take sugar?

- Only the score, what an insidious only.

- Now, we do have the other kind of tea, if you prefer.

- Well, thank you, but—

- Here are some scones that Tibby hasn't yet consumed.

- We are so very sorry to have

put you to this inconvenience.

I hope you will come another day.

Would you?

We should be so glad.

Do take our card.

- Thank you, if you'll excuse me, I really must be going.

- I'll see you out.

Are you sure you don't want a scone for the journey?

- No, no, thank you, I must be going, goodbye.

- Why didn't you make that young man welcome, Tibby, hmm?

You must do the host a little, you know.

You could've coaxed him into stopping,

instead of letting him be swamped by screaming women.

- Get your hot soup here.

Hot soup, lovely and warm.

- That you, Len?

Where have you been?

I'm off my head with worrying.

- About what?

- About you.

- Let go, Jacky.

Every time I'm five minutes late,

you see me lying dead in the road,

crushed and killed in a gruesome accident.

- Well, people do get killed in

accidents and don't come home no more.

- Anymore, Jacky.

I told you I was going to a lecture on "Music and Meaning."

I lost my umbrella.

It's all right.

I got it back.

- Have you had your tea?

I've kept you a bit of tongue in jelly.

- No.

- Sure?

I'll have it then.

Funny, isn't it?

Every time I worry, I get starving hungry.

The thoughts that go through my head, you'd laugh.

You listening, Len?

Not only accidents.

That you'll get wet in the rain.

- Did you?

- No.

- You said you lost your umbrella.

I'll think, "Lord, he'll catch cold.

"It'll go to his chest.

"And where's the money to come from for the doctor?

"And what if he is in an accident,

"and they take him to the hospital in the ambulance?

"And him with holes in his socks."

- Hey, Jacky.

- I want to see.

- What?

- If there's holes in your socks.

- Oh, stop it, Jacky.

- Len.

Come to bed.

- I'll just finish this chapter.

- Len.

You love your Jacky, do you, Len?

- Let me read.

- Len.

Are you gonna make it all right?

- You're not starting on that again.

I've told you a hundred times if I've told you once,

we'll get married the day I'm 21.

I'd do it before if it weren't for my brother

would come and put a stop to it.

What's it to him?

What's he ever done for me?

- That's right.

What's anyone ever done?

It's just you and me.

And if you was to go and leave me, I don't know what I'd do.

I truly don't.

- Now, go to bed.

- You come too, come on!

- Book marker.

- "Margaret Schlegel," and who is Margaret Schlegel?

- Just a lady I met.

- Oh, a lady, la-di-da.

- Come off it, Jacky.

She's a hundred years old.

- Says you.

So that's where you had your tea.

Nice cucumber sandwiches cut ever so thin.

- "Ankle-deep, he waded through the bluebells.

"His spirit rose and exulted as

"he breathed in the sun-drenched air.

"The glorious day was in its last decline.

"Long shadows lay on the sward,

"and from above, the leaves dripped

"their shimmering drops of gold-green light.

"Moths and butterflies swarmed in merry hosts,

"flittering here, glimmering there.

"But hush, could that be a deer?"

- Oh, please show her in.

- Hello, I'm so sorry.

- Why, Ms. Schlegel,

how kind of you to call.

- I've wanted to for ever so long.

- But we haven't been here for ever so long.

- Mrs. Wilcox, may I?

You see, all that business last summer at Howards End,

oh no, it goes further than that.

Since we met at Speyer, do you remember?

That restored cathedral that we all hated so.

- What I remember principally about Speyer

was the great pleasure of meeting you, Ms. Schlegel.

- Helen's gone to Germany.

- And Paul's gone to Nigeria.

- So, you see, now we can meet because they can't.

It's no use beating about the bush.

What happened in the summer was unfortunate

for both of them, don't you feel?

Because I'm sure you think the same way.

Because they should not meet.

- Yes, I feel that.

- They belong to types that can fall

in love but can't live together.

I'm afraid that in nine cases out of 10,

nature pulls one way and human nature the other.

I do rattle on.

I'm afraid I shall tire you out in no time.

- It is true I am not particularly well just today.

But I'm so grateful for your visit.

Ms. Schlegel, you see, I'm quite alone.

My husband and daughter have gone off

on a motoring tour in Yorkshire,

and the young couple are on their honeymoon.

- Charles and Dolly.

- Oh, may I see?

How lovely.

- They've gone to Naples.

I can hardly imagine my Charles in Naples.

- Doesn't he like traveling?

- Oh yes, he likes travel,

but he does see through foreigners so.

What he would enjoy most is a motor tour through England.

Charles takes after me, Ms. Schlegel.

He truly loves England.

Not, of course, London.

None of us love London.

It's so...

It makes one feel so unstable, impermanent,

with houses being torn down on all sides.

- Including, in the foreseeable future, ours.

- Are you having to leave Wickham Place?

- Yes, in 18 months or so when the lease expires.

- Have you been there long?

- All our lives, we were born there.

- Oh,

that is monstrous.

Oh, I do pity you, from the bottom of my heart.

I had no idea this thing was hanging over you.

- How dreadful.

- Oh.

- Oh, you poor, poor girls.

- Well, of course, we are fond of the house,

but it is an ordinary London house.

We shall easily find another.

- No.

Not in this world.

Not the house that you were born in.

You'll never find that again, poor, poor girls.

Howards End was almost pulled down once.

It would have killed me.

It's my house, you know.

It was left to me by my brother who died out in India.

I love it so.

I even resisted when Henry, my husband,

wanted to make changes to improve the property.

He knew best, of course.

We even have a garage.

To the west of the house,

just beyond the chestnut tree,

in the paddock where the pony used to be.

- Where's the pony gone?

- The pony, oh, dead, ever so long ago.

- The vice of the pan-German mind

is that it only cares for what it can use.

- No, that is the vice of the imperial mind.

- No, that is the vice of the vulgar mind.

- But, and this is the tremendous part,

they take poetry seriously.

They do take poetry seriously.

- Yes, but is anything gained by that?

- Yes, the Germans are always striving for beauty.

- Oh, but Mrs. Wilcox, my father

was a German of the old school, a philosopher,

an idealist, the countryman of Hegel and Kant.

- But isn't that your father's sword

you have upstairs in the drawing room?

- Oh yes, he was a soldier too when he had to be,

but he was so uncomfortable about being on the winning side

that he just hung up his sword and never used it again.

- My idea has always been that

if we could bring the mothers

of the various nations together,

then there would be no more war.

- Well, indeed, yes.

- Absolutely, I mean, if the mothers went to war,

there'd be no one left to defend.

- Mrs. Wilcox, will you have another jelly?

- Thank you.

You are fortunate in your cook.

We have found it difficult to get

reliable servants in London.

- It is difficult.

- Your servants have become as unreliable as we are,

and we can hardly expect them to listen

to radical discussions at the luncheon table.

- Annie does very well, don't you, Annie?

You're very patient with us.

- We never discuss at Howards End,

except perhaps sport.

- Oh, but you should.

Discussion keeps a house alive.

- You will laugh at my old-fashioned ideas.

- I will not.

- I sometimes think...

it would be wiser to leave action and discussion to men.

- But then where would we be with the suffrage?

- I am only too thankful not to have the vote myself.

- Shall we go up for coffee?

Duncan, will you lead the way?

- What interesting lives you all lead.

- No, we don't.

It's no use pretending you enjoyed lunch,

for you loathed it, but I hope you will forgive me

by coming again, alone, or by asking me to you.

- I enjoyed my lunch very much.

Ms. Schlegel, truly I did.

I only wish I could've joined in more.

You're so clever, and yet, so good.

- No, that's very kind of you, but I am neither, I'm afraid.

- You've been very good to me.

You've kept me from brooding.

I'm too apt to brood.

- About what?

- Well, I don't know.

I really don't know.

I think about my house a great deal.

You've never seen Howards End.

I want to show it to you.

- Now, this is the scientific approach

to Christmas shopping, a list.

- A list, what a good idea.

Why don't you put your own name at the top of the list?

- Oh hooray, how very kind of you to start with me.

"Schlegel," now, next, shall I put Mr. Wilcox?

Now, what do you think of that?

And a pretty box.

- Oh, yes.

Oh, thank you very much.

- Good, I'm glad.

- Oh, you are wonderfully efficient.

- Thank you, could we wrap that with a nice bow, please?

- Certainly, Madam.

- But your name still remains at the top of the list.

- Yes, so, Dolly, there she goes.

- I would like to give you something worth your friendship.

Couldn't you get it renewed?

- I beg your pardon?

- The lease of your house?

- Oh, have you been thinking of that?

How very kind of you.

- Why, surely something could be done.

- No, values have risen too enormously.

They mean to pull down Wickham Place

and build flats like yours.

- But how horrible.

- Landlords are horrible.

- And so are the flats they build.

I fail to understand how people

can actually choose to live in them.

- There we are.

Oh dear, there, there we are, thank you.

Thank you.

- Thank you, Madam.

- Thank you.

Oh, I'm so sorry.

We shouldn't have done this today.

- No, no, we had to do it before.

- Before?

- Before my operation.

I still haven't told my family yet, Ms. Schlegel.

Everyone hates illnesses.

Ah, it's as it should be.

There's a chestnut tree at Howards End

that has pigs' teeth stuck into the trunk

about four feet from the ground.

Yes, the teeth of a pig.

The country people put them there long ago,

and they think that if they chew a piece of the bark,

it will cure the toothache.

- I love folklore and the old superstitions.

Isn't it is curious though, that unlike Greece,

England has no true mythology.

All we have are witches and fairies.

- Will you come with me to Howards End?

- Oh, I would so much like to.

- Come with me now, now, come with me now.

- Now, but it is too late.

- There is a train from St. Pancras

at 5 o'clock if we hurry.

I want you to see it.

- And I want to see it.

It sounds such a glorious place, so redolent and—

I was born there.

- Well, might I come some other day?

- Yes.

Some other day.

Well, a thousands thanks, Ms. Schlegel, for your help.

It is a comfort to have the presents off my mind,

the Christmas cards especially.

I do admire your choice.

- Whoa!

- Mrs. Wilcox.

- Ms. Schlegel.

- I will come if I still may.

- Return to Hilton, please.

We'll stop the night, my dear.

- Yes.

- It's in the morning my house looks most beautiful.

Two returns, please.

- Thank you.

This is yours?

- I can't show you my meadow properly except in the sunrise.

- It was so romantic.

It was in Italy.

- In Italy?

- Yes, and the two trains stopped on either side,

you see, and I opened the window,

and this man just handed a rose across.

I don't know where he got it.

- Was he Italian?

- Yes, I think so, Italian.

- Ah, he'd have to be Italian, wouldn't he?

- Mother!

- Evie, my dearest girl.

- The motor's smashed.

- Ruth, what on earth are you doing here?

- Why aren't you in Yorkshire?

- We crashed the car.

Are you going to Howards End, why?

How are you?

- It's all such a lovely surprise.

I'm fit as a fiddle.

You remember Ms. Schlegel?

- Ms. Schlegel, oh yes, Helen's sister, hello.

Evie crashed the car in Yorkshire.

- How do you do?

- We must go home.

We can't go to Howards End.

It's 10 to five.

- Oh, Ms. Schlegel, I'm afraid our little outing

is going to have to be another day.

- Oh, before I forget—

for that I believe, Ms. Schlegel

Yes, not canceled, but postponed.

- Postponed.

- Come home with us.

- No, no.

- You sure?

- Please, goodbye.

- Goodbye.

- Till later.

- How lovely to see you.

- I've been thinking of you.

And of our meadow.

- Here.

The day you are strong enough,

I shall hold you to your promise.

- Oh, Ms. Schlegel.

So, to repeat, we have here, forwarded by

the matron of that nursing home, sealed and addressed to me,

a note purporting to be in your mother's handwriting.

And it says, "I would like Ms. Schlegel,

"Margaret, to have Howards End."

- Mother never wrote that.

- No date.

No signature.

- Of course, it's a forgery.

- Not now, please, later, thank you.

The house was, of course, your

mother's to leave to whom she wished.

- Let me see it.

Why, it's only in pencil.

Pencil never counts.

- Yes, we know that it is not legally binding, Dolly.

We are aware of that.

Of course, my dear, we consider you as one of the family,

but it will be better if you don't interfere

with what you don't understand.

Thank you.

- The question is whether, during the time

that this Ms. Schlegel managed to befriend my mother—

As to my mind, the question is

the invalid's condition when the note was written.

- My dear father, consult an expert if you wish,

but I don't admit that it is my mother's handwriting.

- You just said it was.

- Never mind if I did.

- So we are all agreed then that legally,

I would be quite justified in tearing

this up and throwing it into the fire.

- All else aside, how is this gift

to be conveyed to Ms. Schlegel?

Is she to have a life interest in it,

or is she to own it absolutely?

- She may be on her way down this

very minute to turn us all out.

- I don't believe Ms. Schlegel knows anything

about this, this whim of your mother's.

- Mother believed so in ancestors.

She would never have left anything to an outsider.

- If Ms. Schlegel had been poor,

if she had wanted a house...

but she has a house.

Why should she want another?

- She wouldn't have wanted us to even see this thing.

- No, your poor mother would not have wanted it.

- Len, you coming in?

- In a minute.

Yeah, all right.

- What are you looking at?

- See that big one up there?

It's Ursa Major, the great bear.

You follow those two down about four times,

and that one there is the polestar.

I'm fairly certain that's it, and they all—

- Jacky, stop it.

It's important.

- You'll catch your death.

- Excuse me, sir, Mr. Purefour's policy.

- Yes, yes, yes, yes, that's all signed.

It seems fine with me, thank you.

- So may I expect to receive that?

- Could you complete that?

- Yes, of course, sir.

"The trees reared in mighty columns,

"their tops still radiant in sunlight which,

"spilling downward through the wealth of leaves,

"dissolved at last in the darkness of the mossy earth.

"Their color slowly faded from out of the flowers,

but their scent lingered to honey the air he breathed."

- There's a woman to see you, Ma'am.

- A woman and not a lady, Annie?

- She won't give her name.

- Well, ask her to come up.

- She says she won't come up.

- Well, then we shall have to go down.

Good afternoon.

- I'm looking for my husband.

- Here?

- Thank you, Annie.

- I have my reasons to believe that he is here.

- Well, you're welcome to search for him, certainly.

- I'm so sorry, your husband's name?

- Leonard Bast, as I'm sure you're aware of.

- Margaret, are we concealing a Mr. Leonard Bast?

- There appears to have been some mistake, Mrs. Bast.

I do not think we are acquainted with your husband.

- Oh no, there's no mistake.

I know for a fact that he has visited in this house.

He had his tea here.

- That is a grave allegation.

- Yes, to have corrupted a married man with giving him tea.

- I wish we could help you. Mrs. Bast.

- It seems you can't, or won't,

except to have a laugh at my expense.

So I'm very sorry to have troubled you

and wish you a very good afternoon.

- You do what you can for the house.

The drawing room reeks of smoke.

- If you start smoking too, the

house might be even more musty.

- I doubt it.

This is lovely. Annie.

- There's a Mr. Leonard Bast.

- Oh no, I don't believe it.

- The missing husband.

- He must be brought in immediately, Annie.

- I'll do the host.

- Thank you.

- Mr. Bast, come this way.

- Do come in, Mr. Bast.

Good evening.

- Good evening, do come in

and have some pudding with us.

- Yes, or would you prefer some dinner?

- I've had my tea, thank you.

- Have a chair, a glass of wine?

- No.

- Port?

- No, thank you.

- Well, do take a seat in any case, Mr. Bast,

and let us know how we can help you.

- You wouldn't remember giving me this?

- Not as such.

- Well, that was how it happened, you see.

- How what happened?

- Where did we meet, Mr. Bast?

For the moment, I don't remember.

- It was more than a year ago at the Ethical Society.

The lecture was on "Music and Meaning."

- Oh, I see, so the mistake arose out of my card, did it?

The lady who called here yesterday

thought you were calling as well

and that she would find you here.

- In the afternoon, I said to my wife,

I said to Mrs. Bast, "I have to pay a call on some friends."

And Mrs. Bast said to me, "Do go."

But while I was gone, she wanted me on important business

and thought I had come here, owing to the card.

And I beg to tender my apologies, and hers too,

for any inconvenience we may have caused you.

- None at all, truly.

- I still don't understand.

When did you say you paid this call, this afternoon call?

- In the afternoon, of course.

- Saturday afternoon or Sunday?

- Saturday.

- Really?

And you were still calling on Sunday

when your wife came here?

A long visit.

- It was very good of you to come and explain, Mr. Bast.

The rest is, naturally, no concern of ours.

We are going to go upstairs for coffee.

I do hope that you will join us.

Annie, pour the coffee, please.

- It's not what you think.

I was...

I left my office and walked right out of London.

I was walking all Saturday night.

- All night, in the dark?

- It got so dark I couldn't see my own hand.

- Mr. Bast, you must be a born explorer.

- I tried to steer by the polestar, but once out of doors,

everything gets so mixed, and I lost it.

- Don't tell me about the polestar.

I know its little ways.

It goes round and round, and you go round with it.

- Yes, but why?

Why did you do it?

I wanted to just walk,

just get out.

I've been reading The Ordeal of Richard Feverel.

- Yes, I remember.

There's that chapter where Richard walks all night.

- In a forest by moonlight.

- Yes, and Margaret, what's that wonderful—

- "The forest drooped glimmeringly."

- Wait, I'll get it.

- The chapter's called "Nature Speaks."

- Where do your people come from?

- London.

- Yes, I know, but I mean before that.

They didn't always live in a town.

- No, they came from around Shropshire.

They worked on the land.

They were agricultural laborers.

- There, you see?

It was ancestral voices calling you.

- Yes, here it is.

"Richard was walking hurriedly.

"A pale gray light on the skirts of

"the flying tempest displayed the dawn."

Did you see the dawn?

- Yes, suddenly it got light.

- And was it wonderful?

- No.

It was only gray.

And anyway, by that time, I was so tired and so hungry.

I didn't know when you're walking

you want a breakfast and lunch

and tea during the night as well,

and all I had was a packet of Woodbines.

- No, money, give Mr. Bast money.

- We really must go, Meg, come on.

- Your Leonard Bast wouldn't know

what to do if you just gave him money.

- Nonsense, money is very educational,

much more so than the things it buys.

- Such crass materialism out of your mouth, Margaret.

- Give them money.

Let us give Mr. Bast money.

- But he won't gain his soul until

he has enough money to do it with.

Give Mr. Bast money.

- Good night, yes, well, you worry about the first.

- Goodbye, goodbye.

- Good night, good night.

- So what do you think is the most

important thing in the world, then?

- Well, I suppose it is whatever matters to you most.

- What, like love, for instance?

- Yes, like love for instance, or Oxford if you're Tibby.

- Ms. Schlegel?

Henry Wilcox.

- Oh, hello.

- Hello, good evening.

- Good evening, how nice to see you.

- What a wonderful surprise.

I heard two ladies talking of love.

- Oh, no.

- No, we were continuing a serious discussion.

- Yes?

- Yes, we belong to a sort of club which meets

once a week to discuss various subjects.

How are you?

I would've thought you would be down at Howards End.

- Howards End is let.

We've bought a house in Mayfair.

- Yes, Mr. Wilcox, supposing you were a millionaire.

- Oh, but I expect you are one.

- We have met a young man who is very poor,

and we think sensitive and intelligent, and we wondered

if one was a millionaire, how one could help him.

- What's his profession?

- He's a clerk in, what was it, Margaret?

- The Porphyrion Fire Insurance Company.

- Porphyrion?

- Yes.

- Ah, then Ms. Schlegel, if I were

to help your young clerk, I'd advise him to clear out of

the Porphyrion with all possible speed.

- Why?

- Now, this is between friends, you understand,

but the Porphyrion is insufficiently reinsured.

It'll be in the receivers' hands before Christmas.

In other words, it will smash.

- Oh, do you hear?

Helen, the Porphyrion will smash.

- We'll have to warn Mr. Bast.

He'll have to get another place.

- I hope he'll get one very quickly.

- But rather than wait to make sure?

- Yes, decidedly.

You understand, the man who is already in a situation when

he applies for work stands a much better chance, naturally.

This is letting you into state secrets, of course,

but it does affect an employer greatly.

Human nature, I'm afraid.

- Well, our human nature appears

to be quite the other way around.

We employ people because they're unemployed.

The bootman, for instance.

- How does he clean the boots?

- Not well.

- There you are.

- Mr. Wilcox, is it very difficult nowadays

for a clerk to get a situation?

- Yes, extremely.

- I'm so sorry about Howards End.

- Hmm?

- I mean that you're not living there.

I think I have some idea of how much

her house meant to Mrs. Wilcox.

- Yes, but to us, the family, it has certain drawbacks.

- Would you be able to help, our friend,

help him to a new situation?

- Well, unfortunately, we have

very few positions and vacancies,

and when there is one, of course,

always hundreds of applicants.

- Of course.

- Well, it has been a pleasure.

- Yes, indeed.

- Ms. Schlegel, Ms. Schlegel.

I hope your young clerk finds success.

- Thank you, good night. - Good night.

- Well, he was in a hurry to get away, wasn't he?

- Mr. Bast, I fear you may have

thought our letter a little odd.

- We're not odd, really.

We're just over-expressive.

That's all.

- The more a lady has to say, the better.

Ladies brighten every conversation.

- Yes, I know.

The darlings are regular sunbeams.

Let me give you a plate.

- Your company is the Porphyrion, isn't it?

Would you call it a solid concern?

- Cake?

This big one or one of these little deadlies?

- It depends what you mean by solid.

- We were told the Porphyrion's a no-go.

- A friend of ours did think that

it's insufficiently reinsured.

- And advised you to clear out.

- You can tell your friend that he's wrong.

- Oh, good!

- Wrong, so to speak.

- How, so to speak?

- I mean, I wouldn't say he was right altogether.

- Then he is right partly?

- Tell your friend to mind his own business.

- Annie.

- Mr. Wilcox, Ms. Wilcox.

- Oh.

- What a surprise!

- Oh, they're beautiful.

- Mr. Wilcox, do come in.

- Ms. Schlegel, pray forgive us for calling so unexpectedly.

- How nice to see you.

- Mr. Bast, look, come and play with the puppies.

- Mr. Wilcox, this is Mr. Bast.

- Aren't they beautiful?

- I must be going.

- Oh, must you really?

- Oh, come again.

- No, I shan't.

I shan't come again.

- I call that a very rude remark.

What do you want to turn on me like that for?

- I thought you invited me here as, for a friendly chat.

Instead, it turns out you want to pick

my brains about my place of business.

Oh yes, "Send for him.

"Cross-question him.

"Pick his brains."

- No, no!

- Are we intruding, Ms. Schlegel?

Shall we go?

- No, no, thank you.

Helen, go after him, explain.

- What was all that about?

- I knew I shouldn't have come.

It was all right last time, but

things like that always get spoiled.

- Things do but people don't.

Don't you understand?

We really did want to warn you about the Porphyrion.

We were worried about you.

- Why should you worry about me?

- Because we like you.

That's why, you noodle.

- There's no cause to call a person names.

- Oh yes, there is when a person

is being tremendously stupid.

Oh, listen, this is serious.

Our friend said you should be looking around

for another post now before anything happens.

Will you?

- I'll think about it.

- No, you must do more than think.

You must search for another place while you still have one.

Now, promise you will do that at least, please.

- All right, thank you, Ms. Schlegel.

- Come and tell us when you've

found another place, or just come anyway.

And don't say no, don't dare to say no.

And don't forget your umbrella or you'll say we pinched it.

- You ought to be more careful, Ms. Schlegel.

Your servants ought to have orders

not to let such people in.

- Oh, but we invited him in.

Yes, we wanted to see him again and talk to him

and maybe help him, not only in a practical way.

- You're too kind.

You behave too well to people, and then they impose on you.

I know the world and that type of man.

- Oh, but he is not a type, Mr. Wilcox.

No, I think he is a quite unusual young man,

and he has something in him.

I don't know what it is except that

he wants something better than he's got.

- Oh.

- Yes, he has a sort of romantic ambition.

- It is your view of him that is romantic, Ms. Schlegel.

Evie.

We wish you to have something to remember Mrs. Wilcox by

in return for your kindness to her in those days.

- Oh, thank you so much.

What a lovely thought, thank you.

- She would want you to have it.

She spoke very fondly of you.

- It's beautiful.

Are you sure?

Is it 18th century?

It must be crystal.

Thank you, thank you, Evie.

- So what does she look like?

- Sort of an old-maid type.

Goodness knows why Father wanted me to ask her.

She talks and talks.

Here she is.

Ms. Schlegel.

- Hello. Ms. Wilcox.

- How do you do?

This is my fiance, Percy Cahill.

- How do you do?

- Ah, good afternoon.

- Hello, I didn't expect to see you.

- Well, Evie told me of her little plot,

so I just slipped in and secured a table.

Always secure a table first.

Evie, sit there.

Ms. Schlegel, if you please, here.

- Thank you very much.

- Mr. Cahill, there.

Well, are you still worrying around after your young clerks?

I hope you're hungry.

- Famished, I want to eat heaps.

- Good, what will you have?

- Fish pie.

- Ah, fish pie.

Fancy coming for fish pie to Simpson's.

It's not a good thing to go for here.

- Go for something for me then.

- Right, umm...

roast beef and Yorkshire pudding and...

- What will you have?

- Cider to drink.

That's the type of thing to go for.

- I'll have trout.

- Yes, I like this place for a joke once in a while.

It's so thoroughly old English.

Don't you agree?

- I began an inventory of our possessions.

There are over 300 things in the drawing room alone

Oh, thank you, lovely.

And that's not counting the books.

Whatever shall I do?

You see, the modern ownership of moveables—

- Is reducing us again to a nomadic—

- We are reverting to a civilization

of luggage, Mr. Wilcox.

- Thank you.

- Thank you, sir.

- Always tip the carver.

Tip everywhere is my motto.

- Perhaps it does make life more human.

- Yes, then these fellows remember

one again, especially in the East.

If you tip, they remember you from year's end to year's end.

- Have you been in the East?

- Yes, Greece and the Levant.

I used to go for sport and business to Cyprus.

A few piastres properly distributed

help to keep one's memory green.

- How shockingly cynical.

- Not a bit, simply realistic.

- Excuse me, sir, how would you like your beef done?

- Well done.

- Well done.

- You don't like cheese.

You never take cheese.

- Percy, I adore cheese.

- You said you didn't like it.

- That's the most despicable lie, Percy, and you know it.

You've gone quite pink.

- I haven't gone pink.

- Yes you have.

Your ears have gone slightly pink about the tips.

- Evie, I have not.

- Evie, I like that.

Ms. Schlegel expects me to act as house agent for her.

- I want a new home in September,

and someone must find it.

I can't.

- Do you know of anything, Percy?

- Can't say I do.

- I wish you would give us Howards End.

- Howards End, I'm afraid, is let.

- Can't you turn out your tenant and let it to us?

- No.

- We're nearly demented.

Mr. Wilcox, I am demented.

- One bit of advice, fix your district,

then fix your price, then don't budge.

That's how I got Ducie Street and Oniton.

Well, I shall, I shall look around a bit for you.

- Would you?

- Yes.

- Would you really?

- Yes. - Well, how kind.

But I warn you, the house has not been built

that would suit the Schlegel family.

It's no fun trying to help us.

- Fun, no, but it's a pleasure and a privilege

to do whatever I can for Ms. Margaret Schlegel.

- Thank you very much.

- Dear Ms. Schlegel, dare I intrude

on your holiday in Devon and request you to come up

to London, where, I may add, you are greatly missed?

Matter is of some urgency.

- But to interrupt your holiday, dear Margaret,

and before we have undertaken any of our excursions.

You haven't even been to Nine Barrows Down.

- I know, Aunt Juley, but I shall be back before long.

Let me go up to town today and take the house

if it's the least bit possible.

- I don't understand.

Whose house is this?

- It's Mr. Wilcox's, Tibby.

You are being remarkably obtuse.

Are you doing it on purpose?

Look, "Owing to changed circumstances,"

he means that Evie's getting married.

That's his daughter.

"I no longer have need for a London house of this size

"and am willing to let it on a yearly tenancy."

Now, it's perfect.

- Out of all our hotel acquaintances,

Mr. Wilcox is the only one who's stuck,

and yet, we've met far more interesting people.

- Interesting people don't get one houses.

- I shall never forget that dreadful motor driver,

that perfectly dreadful Charles.

My one consolation is that for once,

I was able to be useful to you girls.

- Thank you, Aunt Juley.

And now it is my turn to be useful.

- This is the ballroom.

- Goodness, oh.

- Like it?

- Rather!

Even I know a good thing when I see it.

- Yes, but nowadays, with Evie always out with her fiance,

when I get home in the evenings,

I tell you, I can't stand the place.

- Yes, it would be very lonely for you.

- Yes.

Do you ever get lonely, Ms. Schlegel?

- I soon shall, horribly.

It's heartbreaking to leave one's old home.

Goodness, how high this ceiling must be.

- Hmm?

Yes, it must be over 30 feet.

No, maybe 40, I should think, perhaps even more.

Ms. Schlegel...

I've had you up here on false pretenses.

I want to speak on a much more

serious matter than the house.

Do you think you could be induced to share?

I mean, is it at all probable that—

- Ms. Schlegel.

Margaret.

I don't think you quite understand.

- Oh, yes, indeed, yes.

- I'm asking you to be my wife.

- Yes, I know, I know.

- Are you offended?

- How could I be?

- Well, perhaps I should've written first.

- No, no, rather, you will receive a letter from me.

- Thank you.

- Not at all, and it's you I thank.

- Should I order the motor round now?

- That would be most kind.

- I am warning you, Evie.

She will never set foot in this house!

- It's not my fault!

- Of course it's your fault.

Going around hobnobbing with those Schlegel girls.

- Girls?

They're hardly girls.

I never dreamt of such a thing.

Dad took me to call and then made me

ask her to Simpson's, that's all.

Well, I'm altogether off Dad.

- You've woken Didums.

I knew you would.

- Well, Ms. Schlegel's fairly got us on toast.

You know, she always meant to get hold of Howards End.

Now, thanks to you, she's got it.

- I call that most unfair.

- Oh, Evie, why don't you pretend

to break off your engagement?

Then, perhaps, your father will

also quarrel with Ms. Schlegel.

- Stop talking nonsense, darling.

- I'm jolly well going to get married as soon as possible.

And Dad can do what he likes.

- She's taking Mother's place.

The idea!

- I could simply scratch that woman's eyes out.

Toto, Toto, play.

- Come on, Dolly.

I'll have a try.

Come on.

Well, it's no use talking.

We're in a bad hole and must make the best of it.

But I'll keep my eye on those Schlegels.

And if I find them putting on airs

with their artistic beastliness,

I intend to put my foot down.

Yes, firmly.

- I've had a letter too, not a nice one.

I want to talk it over with you.

My letter is about Howards End.

The tenants have decamped.

And what is worse, he's trying

to sublet the house, Margaret.

Here, he's trying to sublet the house.

What are you laughing at?

- Henry, you haven't had a chance

for a talk with Helen yet have you, I suppose?

- What do you mean, a talk with her?

- Well, do before you go.

- Why, what's the matter?

- No, nothing, I'm just anxious you two should be friends.

- We've always hit it off together.

- Shh.

- Well, we do.

There's no clause in the agreement to allow subletting.

There you are, read it yourself.

That's awfully jolly.

- Thank you.

- Yes, especially that, foxgloves.

- Yes, dear old digitalis.

- Digitalis, sounds like a sneeze.

- Margaret, such nice news from Mr. Bast.

- Really?

Good.

- Here we all are then.

Mr. Bast is now with Dempster's Bank.

That's his news. - Good.

- Thanks to your hint, he cleared out of the Porphyrion.

- Not a bad business, the Porphyrion.

Margaret, I shall have to go to Howards End and take charge,

and I would like you to come with me.

- Not a bad business?

- Yes, I would like that very much.

- Good, what about tomorrow?

- Tomorrow?

Oh no, I couldn't well do that.

- Why not?

- You told us the Porphyrion would smash before Christmas.

- Did I?

Yes, well, it was outside the tariff ring at the time.

Took some rather bad policies.

But lately, it came in, safe as houses now.

What's wrong with tomorrow?

- Well, Aunt Juley would be so disappointed if I left now.

- Didn't Mr. Wilcox clearly

tell us that the Porphyrion would—

- Henry, Aunt Juley regards this visit as a—

and Mr. Bast need never have left

and taken another post at a greatly reduced salary.

- My dear Helen.

I grieve for your clerk, I really do.

But it is all part of the battle of life.

- Battle of life?

- Yes.

- A man who had little money has less, owing to us.

- Oh, come, come, you're not to blame.

No one is to blame.

- No one?

Is no one to blame for anything?

- I didn't say that.

You take things far too seriously.

- Margaret!

- There's your aunt.

I'll go and have a word with her.

- Margaret!

- Helen.

- Helen, a word of advice—

- Don't take up a sentimental attitude over the poor.

See that she doesn't, Margaret.

The poor are poor.

One is sorry for them, but there it is.

I'll talk to Aunt Juley about tomorrow.

Don't you bother.

- Girls, aren't you cold?

- Helen, I am very sorry about Mr. Bast,

but you must be civil to Henry.

- You yourself are a witness.

- Yes, I know there may be another side to this question.

But Henry is my future husband, and I must be on his side.

Why are you so bitter, dearie, hmm?

- Because I'm an old maid.

- Oh, Helen.

No, darling.

Helen!

- Margaret will explain.

- Margaret, Magsy, if it isn't true,

surely, what Mr. Wilcox is saying,

that you want to go away tomorrow?

- Yes, we must leave tomorrow.

I have business at Howards End, and my business

is now also, unfortunately, my Margaret's.

- So we'll go for our walk now.

See you at tea time, unless it rains.

In which case, we'll see you a great deal sooner, bye.

- Have a good walk.

- Yes, that's him.

- So this is the famous office?

- What?

- I'd expected something more African.

- Oh, heavens, no.

- Spears and animal skins and that sort of thing,

but I suppose this is the imperial part

of the Imperial and West African Rubber Company.

- Yes, we still haven't settled

the question of the London house, have we?

- Well, that all depends, doesn't it?

- On what?

- When do you want to marry me?

- How you do fly around.

My head's in a whirl.

Let's dance!

- I hope that my wife, oh, how do you do,

will give you a decent lunch after

you've had a good look at Howards End.

- I can hardly wait to see it,

although I almost feel I have.

- I don't know in what state you'll find it.

The tenant decamped without even arranging

for a charwoman to clear up after him.

- Oh, dear.

- Yes, I've more than a little

bone to pick with that tenant.

Margaret, here's an idea.

- Yes?

- Why don't we use Howards End to store

your furniture from Wickham Place

'til you decide what to do with it?

- Oh, would you, would you really?

- Good idea?

- Oh, how kind.

Only until Helen and Tibby are settled of course, Charles.

- I hope you won't be disappointed.

It's quite a measly little place.

Never really suited us.

- Heavens, no.

- Oh, it's lovely.

- Margaret. - Oh, dear.

- What?

- I seem to have forgotten the keys.

- What?

- I've lost the keys.

- Crane, we'll have to go back.

- Oh, well, won't you leave me here?

- You sure?

- Yes, yes, I'll wait for you.

Dolly, have a nice glass of milk at the farm.

Henry, see that she gets a nice glass of milk.

I'll walk around in the garden.

Goodbye.

- Why did you forget the key?

- I'm sorry, I don't know.

- Where did you leave it?

- Well, it could be with Didums.

- Hello?

- I took you for Ruth Wilcox.

- I, like Mrs. Wilcox?

- You have her way of walking...

'round the house.

- Henry, Henry!

Henry, I've found the teeth.

- Yes, what? - The pigs' teeth.

- Teeth, where?

- The pigs' teeth in the bark.

Yes, look, just here.

You see?

Four feet up.

- How extraordinary.

- Yes, and you chew the bark to cure the toothache.

- What a rum notion.

- Surely, you knew that.

- Did that silly old Ms. Avery give you a fright, Margaret?

None of you girls has any nerve.

- Did you take her for a spook?

She's very odd.

She carries on as if she owned Howards End.

- Ms. Avery has always lived on the place?

- Oh yes, she grew up there on the farm like Mrs. Wilcox.

Weren't she and Mrs. Wilcox friends

when Howards End, too, was a farm?

They do say that Mrs. Wilcox had

a brother, or was it an uncle?

Anyhow, he popped the question, and Ms. Avery, she said no.

Just imagine if she'd said yes.

She'd have been Charles's aunt.

Oh, I say, that's rather good, Charlie's aunt.

I must chaff him about that.

She's so mad about Howards End.

Goodness knows what she'll do when

your furniture gets there, Margaret.

She might fling it all out, or she might

simply adopt it for Howards End.

- Excuse me, sir, where would I

go to inquire about a position?

- What position would that be, sir?

- I heard there was one.

- Not at this time.

- I thought it was you.

How do you do?

Why did you never come to see us again?

You promised.

But this isn't your bank.

You took a situation with Dempster's.

- I lost it.

- Sorry?

- I lost the situation.

They cut back on their staff and the last to join,

like me, were the first to be let go.

I've been inquiring for another place here.

The way they look at you when you come to ask.

They're sure you've stolen something

or why else would any decent person be out of work?

- It's our fault.

- No.

- No, we made you leave the Porphyrion,

I and my sister and Mr. Wilcox,

who is at this very moment, celebrating

his daughter's wedding at his castle in Shropshire,

with the maximum expense and ostentation, of course.

I could murder him!

- "Murder will out, it is most foul."

How have you been, Ms. Schlegel?

Any interesting lectures?

- You know, he jolly well owes you a situation.

- What nice houses you have

all over the place, I like this one too.

- Oniton Grange, waiting to get it off my hands.

- Why?

- Well, what is one to do?

The shooting is bad and the fishing is even worse.

Anyway, it's in the wrong part of Shropshire.

- Henry, are these all Wilcoxes?

- Heavens, no.

I bought the place lock, stock and barrel.

The fellow just took the money

and cleared off to Italy, I think.

I'm told some of these are rather good.

What do you think?

- I think they're lovely.

- Rather good, isn't it?

- Which one?

- Top one.

- Yes, very grand, it's rather like you.

- So, I'll show you the cellar.

It's very damp, isn't it?

Do you have enough ice now?

- Yes, sir.

- Second orders? - Yes, sir.

- Good, all right.

- Good afternoon.

- It's this way. - Right.

Thank you.

- It is difficult to decide what to do about the children.

Yes, here we are.

Now, Charles, as the eldest, will someday have Howards End.

And I'm just anxious not to be unjust to the others.

- Of course not, you mean money?

- Yes, money, since you put it so frankly.

- Goodness, we'll never get through all this wine.

Well, how much have you got?

- What?

- How much have you got a year?

I have 600.

- My income?

- Don't you know your income?

- Of course I do.

- Well, don't you want to tell it me?

Do it this way.

If you were to divide your income into 10 parts,

how many parts would you give to Charles,

how many to Evie and how many to Paul?

Go ahead.

Give away all you can.

Be generous.

- You don't beat about the bush, do you?

No.

- I suppose she'll get her hands

on this place as well as Howards End.

- It's only her furniture that's gone there.

- No, that's the thin edge of the wedge.

I don't know what's to happen to us, Dolly

Two children to bring up.

- Charles, you are pleased about the baby, aren't you?

- What?

Oh, pleased as punch.

Pleased as punch.

Though it's not going to be easy.

The pater wants to be fair, but money isn't elastic.

What if Evie has a family?

Or the pater himself?

What?

- Shh.

- Who's there?

Saxon or Celt?

It went like clockwork.

"Quite like a Durbar," Lady Edser said.

- Ah, you did awfully well.

I'm very proud of you.

Thank you.

It was very successful.

Who are those people?

- Well, perhaps they're townspeople,

come to see the wedding presents.

If you'll gracefully vanish, I'll deal with them.

What is it?

What's wrong?

Is Tibby ill?

They're starving!

I found them starving!

- Who is starving?

- The Basts. - Oh, Helen.

- He's lost his place because he's

been turned out of Dempster's bank.

They reduced their staff, and he was the first to go.

Yes, thanks to us, he's done for.

We've ruined him.

- Are you mad?

- If you like, I'm mad, but I'll stand for this no longer!

Two people starving, and meanwhile, all this vulgar show!

- Helen, have you actually brought

two starving people from London to Shropshire?

- There was a restaurant car on the train.

Don't be absurd.

I won't have such theatrical nonsense.

How dare you?

Yes, how dare you!

Bursting into Evie's wedding in this way.

My goodness,

but you've a perverted notion of philanthropy.

Look at them.

They think it's some vulgar scandal, and I must explain,

"Oh no, it's only my sister screaming,

"and only two hangers-on of ours whom she has

"brought here for no conceivable reason."

- We want to see Mr. Wilcox.

- Mr. Bast, this is an odd business.

What view do you take of it?

- There is Mrs. Bast too.

- Yes, how do you do?

- How do you do?

- She's not well.

She fainted on the train.

- Oh, I'm so sorry.

Won't you sit down for a minute?

- I'm sure we don't wish to intrude,

but you have been so kind in the past, you and your sister.

- Look, my sister has put you in

a false position, I'm afraid.

- Jacky, let's go.

- Please, Helen, offer them something.

Mrs. Bast, please, won't you have something to eat, please?

Now, Helen. I would like to do something for them,

because I agree, we are in some way responsible.

- Via Mr. Wilcox.

- Let me tell you, once and for all, that

if you take up that attitude, I'll do nothing, so choose.

If you promise to take them to the hotel

quietly as my guests, then I will speak to Henry

about finding work for Mr. Bast, in my own way, mind.

There is to be no more of this absurd screaming.

Well?

- All right. I promise.

- Very well, take them off to the George then, and I'll try.

But Helen...

you have been most self-indulgent.

You have less restraint, rather than more, as you get older.

Think it over, Helen, and alter yourself,

or we shan't have happy lives.

- Let's eat some cake, shall we?

- Sorry, excuse me.

- Now, I must see to getting some rooms.

- No, we don't want to be any trouble.

We should come with you.

- Len.

- Perhaps you'd like to stay.

- Look, there's all this pudding.

- Mrs. Bast is extremely tired.

- I'm hungry.

- Perhaps you should come back for her.

- Will you be all right?

- I'll be all right.

- Ah.

- Charles, Charles, look!

Whoever's that?

- Where?

- Pink scarf.

- Charles Wilcox, how do you do?

Bride or groom?

I'm very pleased to have made your acquaintance.

- Champagne, madam?

- Helen?

What, here?

But, she refused the invitation.

I thought she despised weddings.

Where is she now?

- She's gone now.

I've bundled her off to the George.

- George Hotel?

Well, you shouldn't have done that.

- Well, she has two of her proteges with her.

- Ah, yes, her proteges.

Well, let them all come.

- No, but later on,

I would like to talk to you about them.

- Well, why not now?

No time like the present.

- Shall I?

- Mmm, yes, if it isn't too long a story.

- It's not five minutes.

- Yes.

- But there's a sting at the end of it.

- Hmm?

- For I want you to find the man some work in your office.

- Well, what are his qualifications?

- He's a clerk, I think.

- Yes, where was he before?

- Dempster's Bank.

- Dempster's, why did he leave?

- They reduced their staff.

- Oh.

Yes, all right.

I'll see what I can do.

- Thank you.

- Margaret, this cannot be taken as a precedent, you know.

I can't fit in your proteges or Helen's proteges every day.

You do understand?

- Of course, of course not.

But he's, he's rather a special case.

- Yes, well, proteges always are, aren't they?

Well, goodbye.

Thank you so much.

- Goodbye.

- Why, if it isn't Henry.

Hello. Henry, fancy seeing you here.

- This is Mrs. Bast.

Sorry, she's a little overtired.

- She's drunk.

- Don't you remember Jacky?

Henry, aren't you gonna say hello?

- Do you know Mrs. Bast?

- No, I don't!

- Know Henry?

Who doesn't know Henry? - Henry?

- We've had some gay old times, haven't we, Hen?

- You're drunk!

- Henry?

Henry, Henry.

- Are you satisfied now, Margaret?

I can now understand your keen interest in the Basts.

I must say I congratulate you

on your little plan to trap me.

- Trap you?

- I release you from your engagement.

- Henry, Henry, Henry!

Here we are.

- Oh, please don't bother, my dear.

I'm sure I can manage.

- That's all right, I'll do that, I'll do it.

- So that's it.

- Oh, that is what?

Thank you, dear chap.

You were saying?

- No, Henry and I were just having the fiercest argument,

but I think he has forgiven me.

- Oh, I don't expect there's much to forgive.

- No.

- Well, I really must be going, or we shall be late.

Thank you so much for a lovely time.

And hasn't the weather been kind to us?

- Glorious.

- A lovely day.

Thank you, my dear, very much, thank you.

- Have a safe journey.

- Thank you, bye-bye, Dolly, bless you.

- Bye-bye, Albert.

- You take care of yourself.

- I shall.

- Bye-bye, Mrs.—

- No, it's all right, it's here, Father.

- Oh, ah, thank you, Albert.

- Safe journey.

- Ah, are the womenfolk all alright then?

- Yes.

- I'll shut the doors, then we're all ready.

Well, thank you.

Oh, oh, drive on then.

- What's the matter, Jacky?

- It was a shock, seeing him.

- Him?

Seeing who?

- I really don't want to talk about it.

- Too much champagne?

- What do you think you're looking at?

- Len.

- Henry.

Henry, look at me.

So you were that woman's lover.

- Since you put it with

your usual delicacy, yes, I was.

- When?

When, please?

- 10 years ago!

I'm sorry, 10 years ago.

- Henry, dear, it's not going to trouble us.

- Ah yes, we fellows all fall from grace once in our time.

Do you believe that, Margaret?

- Yes, I do believe it.

- You with your refined pursuits and your books.

What can you guess of any man's life?

The temptations, temptations.

Well, that's enough.

I've spoken too much already.

- Yes, that's enough, dear.

- It was in Cyprus.

It was very lonely.

You can never forgive me, can you?

- I have forgiven you. Henry.

- Well, I...

I could find an excuse, but I won't.

- Let us speak no more about it, dear.

It is all behind us.

- Really?

You can really bring yourself to forgive me?

You've learned that I'm far from a saint.

In fact, the reverse.

No, no, no, no, no. - Shh.

- The reverse.

Where are those people now?

- Helen has taken them to the George.

- Oh, then let them leave first thing in the morning

because there must be no gossip at the George.

And anyway, Helen should be here with us,

not stopping at a hotel with some ragtags.

Tell you what, Margaret.

Why don't you kindly write a note to that effect,

and I'll have Burton send it out to Helen straight away.

Burton!

Burton!

- Yes, sir.

- I want you to take a note over

to the George Hotel straight away.

- Yes, sir.

- There's far too much noise out there.

- I'm sorry to tell you

that Henry can do nothing for Mr. Bast.

He feels the Basts are not at all

the type we should trouble about.

We found the woman drunk on the lawn.

Please see that they leave first thing

in the morning and come here yourself.

- He made her write it.

This isn't Margaret.

Would you put it in the fire?

- You better let us be, Ms. Schlegel.

You don't want to get mixed up in this.

- Mixed up in what?

What is it?

You must trust me that far, at least.

- Mr. Wilcox met Jacky before,

out in Cyprus, when she was 16.

I told you you didn't want to hear about it.

- Go on.

Why was she in Cyprus?

- Her father was a clerk in an export business.

So after her mother died, she'd gone out to be with him.

Then he died.

Accidentally drowned because he couldn't swim.

Jacky was left having to fend for herself

'til she managed to get back home.

I didn't have to marry her, but I did.

My family wouldn't have anything to do with us.

They tried to stop me, but I married her all the same.

Because I promised.

Listen, if I hadn't, where would she be today,

after the Mr. Wilcoxes of this world had finished with her?

- It would never, never, not in a thousand years,

enter that man's mind that he'd done anything wrong

because there's nothing here and nothing here.

And you're the opposite.

You believe in personal responsibility

and personal everything.

- Very nice.

What good am I to myself or to Jacky,

marrying her only to pull her down

with me so we can starve together?

- You'll find another position somewhere, surely you will.

- You don't know what you're talking about.

If rich people fail at one profession, they can try another.

But with us, once a man over 20

loses his own particular job, he's done for.

- I'd do anything in the world to help you.

- Well, help me row then.

I'm tired.

You're the one person who ever has helped me.

- You mean by passing on false

information to make you give up your job?

- I mean by being the sort of person you are.

I didn't think people like you existed

except in books, and books aren't real.

- Oh, no, they're more real than anything.

When people fail you, there's still "Music and Meaning."

- That's for rich people, to make

them feel good after their dinner.

- Everything's got spoiled for you, hasn't it?

Don't know what's to be done, Tibby, or what to say to Meg.

Don't want to face her or even to go back to Wickham Place.

- You mean because of Mr. Wilcox

and the woman you say he seduced

in between growing currants in Cyprus?

- I want you to give Meg my love and tell her,

tell her I'm going away to Germany, to Munich or else Bonn.

- Such a message is easily given.

God, I wish I could escape from Meg's wedding too.

- Is she really going through with it?

How is it possible for our Meg to be a Wilcox?

And now, after all this?

- You'd much better go away to Germany.

There's Martlett with the Apple Charlotte.

Do you mind if I take it from him?

It spoils with waiting.

Ah, Martlett.

- Shall I clear now, sir?

- Not now, later.

- Thank you very much.

- I feel, no, I know we owe the Basts some compensation.

- Oh, those people again?

- Yes, those people again.

Don't see who is to pay if I don't.

I'm placing what I consider is a minimum amount

to your account, and when I'm in Germany,

you'll pay it over to the Basts for me.

I shall never forget your kindness,

Tibbikins, if you do this.

- What's the sum?

- 5,000.

- Good God!

- It's useless just giving out driblets

of charity, just shillings and blankets.

No doubt people will think me mad.

- I don't give a damn what people think,

but I do mind if you ruin yourself

for some quixotic reason of your own.

- I didn't expect you to understand me.

- I understand nobody.

- But you'll do it?

- Apparently.

- Are you writing to your brother?

He could send us another 10.

- Yes, and a long lecture to go with it.

- Your sister could afford a fiver.

- Oh, leave me alone!

- Why are you taking it out on me?

- You can see I'm busy, can't you?

Dear Mr. Schlegel, I acknowledge receipt of your letter

dated 2nd of October, enclosing a check for 5,000 pounds.

I am very grateful for your concern,

but having no immediate necessity,

I have the honor to return your check herewith.

Yours sincerely, Leonard Bast.

Excuse me, sir, sorry to bother you.

I worked in this office for four years.

I was wondering if there were any vacancies at the moment?

- No, no, I'm sorry.

I've nothing.

- Nothing at all?

- Nothing at this time, thank you.

- All right, the servants will have the benefit

of the central heating if we keep

them here instead of at the back of the house.

That's what the architect prefers.

- Oh, if only it would hurry up and get itself built.

- All in good time.

- I'm getting tired of living in London.

- Are you?

- Yes, I can't be as young as I was.

- Yeah?

- So I'm perfectly happy to do without all

the new plays and discussion societies and—

- Yes, what I miss are trees and mountains and meadows.

- Yes.

- I also miss my own things.

- They're safe enough at Howards End.

- And, of course, I'm very grateful to have them there,

but I would so like to see everything

in our own home, my share at least.

Goodness only knows what Tibby intends to do with his.

Or Helen.

There's been another postcard from her.

Still the same poste restante address in Bavaria,

but now she speaks of going to Italy.

- Is she never coming back to England?

She's been away now the, how long has it been?

- It will be four months and three weeks on Tuesday.

- Yes.

Your sister is odd.

She always has been.

There's no getting away from it.

What is this?

How, what's been reading now?

Theo—

- Oh, yes.

Madame Blavatsky, now, what a clever little woman it is.

You see, that's what I mean about Helen.

She reads these things, and her mind gets addled.

My Margaret, she keeps her facts straight.

- What facts are those, dear?

- Hmm, about men and women and all that sort of thing,

who is who and what is what.

Yes, now, what is that?

- Mr. Schlegel, sir, you've forgotten these.

- Ah, thank you, Martlett.

- Thank you, sir.

- Ah, oh dear, Annie.

Look, it's another one.

And no letter.

See, I just can't feel that Helen's really alive.

These postcards and telegrams

don't seem to have come from her.

That's not her.

- I know what you mean.

You'll break that if you keep fiddling with it.

- Well, then put it on.

- Oh!

- Give me my card.

- M.J. Schlegel, The Rise, Straight Fleming, Devon.

Dearest Meg, arriving London Thursday.

Please telegraph, care my bank,

whether Aunt Juley is better or likely to become worse.

Give my love to the invalid and

keep some for yourselves, Helen.

- If only you had a companion to take your walks with.

- I have Tibby, dear Aunt Juley.

And it won't be long, thank you, Maggie,

before you'll be up and about.

- When is Helen coming?

- Well, very soon, dear.

She will already have reached London.

- She's got to London all right.

- Yes, but?

- She says to telegraph if Aunt Juley is better.

Obviously, if you want to see her,

you must telegraph she is not better.

- We can't start lying to each other.

But Helen wouldn't—

- She couldn't stay away at such a time.

Dearest Helen, Aunt Juley better

and eagerly expecting you, as am I, your Meg.

- Must return Germany at once.

Telegraph to bank whereabouts

our books and furniture, Helen.

- But why did she have to go back to Germany?

- I'll explain it all to you after your nap.

- You'd think she might have come to see her old aunt.

I haven't been well, you know.

Is Cook doing the mackerel the way Tibby likes them?

I know his whole day is spoiled

if his breakfast isn't right.

- The mackerel were perfect.

In fact, Tibby particularly mentioned them this morning.

Don't tell me, Tibby, that it is still

that business over Henry and that woman, Mrs. Bast.

Goodness me, how morbid.

His wife forgives him and his sister-in-law

cannot bear to look upon his face.

I don't believe it, not even of Helen.

- We all know to what extremes Helen goes.

We've all suffered under her temperament.

- But this is different.

This is not temperament, but a kind

of madness, as if she were mad.

- Margaret, you've got black marks again under your eyes.

Well, you know that's strictly forbidden, don't you?

I'll not have my girl looking as old as her husband.

- You haven't quite seen our point.

- No, I don't suppose I ever shall.

- Our point is this, our sister may be mad.

- Oh, Charles, do come in.

We are again in trouble.

Can you help us at all?

- No, I'm afraid I cannot.

What were the facts?

We're all mad, more or less, you know, these days.

- The facts are that our sister has been

in England three days and won't see us.

She's forbidden the bankers to give us her address.

She refuses to answer any questions.

All we have are these telegrams.

- And you want to get hold of her, is that it?

- Well, yes.

- It's perfectly easy, Margaret.

She wants her books, yes?

Send her after them, to Howards End.

When she's there, you just stroll in.

If there's nothing wrong with her, so much the better.

But remember, the motor will be around the corner.

We quite simply run her up to London

to a specialist, no time at all.

- That's impossible.

- Why is it impossible?

- Because Helen and I, we...

don't speak that particular language, if you see my meaning.

- Yes, because you have scruples,

and it's all very well, and I understand perfectly.

I'm as scrupulous as any man alive, I hope.

But when it is a case like this,

when it is a question of madness—

- You said yourself.

- It's madness when I say it but not when you say it.

- Pater, you may as well keep Howards End out of it.

- Why, Charles?

- Well, the whole house is at sixes and sevens.

We don't want any more mess.

- And who is we?

Pray, Charles, who is we?

- Beg your pardon, I'm sure.

I seem always to be intruding.

- No, Charles, Charles!

- Then let's send a telegram.

Come along, let's do it.

I really can't have this sort of behavior, Charles.

- What?

- Margaret, she's far too sweet-natured

to mind, but I mind for her.

- All your books now at Howards End.

Ms. Avery will let you in 3pm Monday, Meg.

- Our main object is not to frighten

Ms. Schlegel, you understand?

Trouble seems to be nervous, wouldn't you say so, Margaret?

- Would you say she was normal?

- Well, she's always been highly strung.

Musical, literary, artistic but quite normal,

quite a charming girl, really.

- Would you say there was anything congenital?

- No, no.

- Or anything hereditary?

- No.

Margaret?

- Yes, Henry, just wait here just for a second.

Oh, my darling, quickly, quickly

just get inside please, just quickly.

- Ms. Schlegel is managing.

You can go back to the motor.

Margaret?

- Henry, Henry I shall surely need your advice later,

but now I must be alone with Helen.

- Certainly.

- Yes, please, my dear, kind Henry.

- Yes.

- Thank you.

- Where are all our furniture?

- Ah, there's been a mistake.

- How well the carpet fits.

I'll be sending some milk 'round,

and we should be ordering coals.

- There's been a mistake, Ms. Avery.

You've been very kind, but we are

not going to live at Howards End.

This is not our house.

I think she may be a little touched.

I'm sorry, Helen.

I ought not to have—

- We thought you were ill.

- As you see, I'm not ill, but

I'm expecting a child in June.

Is the coast clear?

I must leave.

I'm going back to Germany in the morning.

Give my love to Aunt Juley and to Tibby.

- Let me get that.

- Don't.

It's curious, isn't it, that our carpet fits?

Yes, the sword looks right too.

- Yes, doesn't it?

Someone's polished it.

- Yes.

I'll carry this.

Even if you didn't want to tell me

because of Henry, I understand that.

- I thought I had to be by myself.

That's why I hid away in Germany.

- What about Tibby?

- You know, Meg, really, I alone must be responsible

for myself and this child, and I want to be.

Of course, Leonard doesn't know.

- Leonard?

Leonard Bast?

- Yes.

Oh, Meg, did you ever hear from him again?

I have no idea what he's doing now

or what's happened to either of them.

- Dolly.

- Hello. - Hello.

- My dear, I must ask you.

Was your sister wearing a wedding ring?

- No.

- What?

- No.

Henry, I really came just to ask a favor about Howards End.

- Yes, one point at a time.

Please, sit down.

Margaret,

I must now ask you for the name of her seducer.

You may have some inkling, and

the slightest hint would help us.

- Us, who is "us"?

- Hmm?

Well, I thought it best to ring Charles.

- That was unnecessary.

- My dear, listen to me.

Charles and I wish to act in your sister's best interests.

It's still not too late to clear her name.

- What are we to make her seducer marry her?

But Henry, suppose he turned out to be married already?

One has heard of such cases.

- Then he must pay heavily for his misconduct, mustn't he?

Now, stay calm.

I want to talk to you.

Listen to me, Margaret.

Come here.

Look at me.

What's the matter?

Hmm?

- May I ask you my question now?

- Certainly.

- Tomorrow Helen goes to Germany.

- Yes.

- I'm fine.

Tonight. With your permission—

- She would like to sleep at Howards End.

- But why at Howards End?

I don't understand.

- It is an odd request, but you

know what women in her state are.

- Yes, I could understand if it were

her own home associations and so on,

but Helen has no associations with Howards End.

I don't see why she wants to stay there.

She'll only catch cold anyway.

- Call it fancy, but she wants to.

- I don't understand.

If she wants to sleep there one night,

she'll want to sleep there two.

- No, no, just—

- But that matters so very much?

- But of course it would—

Howards End for this one night.

I shall stay with her

- No, that's quite impossible and that's madness.

I want you here to meet Charles.

- What has Charles to do with this?

- Margaret, as the future owner of Howards End,

it has everything to do with Charles.

- In what way?

Please answer me, Henry.

- You're forgetting yourself.

There's Dolly and the servants.

- In what way?

Would Helen's condition depreciate the property?

- Margaret!

Margaret.

I shall do what I can for your sister,

but I cannot treat it as if nothing has happened.

I should be forced from my position in society if I did.

- Tomorrow, she will go to Germany

and trouble society no longer.

Tonight, she asks to sleep in your empty house.

May she?

Will you give my sister leave?

Will you forgive her,

as you yourself have been forgiven?

- As I myself have been—

- Your sister can sleep at the hotel.

I have my children and the memory

of my dear wife to consider.

- You have mentioned Mrs. Wilcox.

In reply, may I mention Mrs. Bast?

- You have not been yourself all day—

You have had a mistress.

I forgave you.

My sister has a lover.

You drive her from the house!

Why can you not be honest for once in your life

and say to yourself, "What Helen has done, I have done"?

- I repeat what I said before.

I do not give your sister leave to sleep at Howards End.

Now, do you understand?

- If a man played about with my sister,

I'd send a bullet through him,

but I suppose you're sunk too deep in books and rubbish.

Do you mind what happens to your sister?

- As a matter of fact, I mind very

much what happens to my sister,

but I have a different way of expressing it from yours,

not to speak of different manners.

- By Jove, I'm glad of my way!

I'm glad that my father never sent me

to the varsity if this is what they teach you here.

Look, you must know something of your sister's life.

Do you know of anyone?

- No.

- Whom do you suspect?

Did she mention anyone by name?

Come on, yes or no.

You're hiding something, man.

Speak up.

- She did mention some friend called Leonard Bast.

- Leonard Bast, eh?

Leonard Bast, do you know him?

Have you had any dealings with him?

Oh, what a family.

What a family!

God help the poor pater.

- I'd say God help my poor sisters.

- Admiring isn't purchasing, you know.

- But they were ordered on approval.

- Excuse me.

- We do not accept things on approval.

- Excuse me.

- Wait. - Ma'am.

- Excuse me, I was looking for Ms. Schlegel.

- It's...

- Leonard Bast, I used to call at Wickham Place.

Is Ms. Schlegel in?

Or Mrs. Wilcox?

- They're all down at Howards End.

- Where would that be now, Howards End?

- It's at Hilton, near Hilton Junction.

Are you all right?

Let me get you a drink of water.

- No, thank you.

- Please take them, Ma'am.

This is—

- I don't want you to conclude that my wife and I

have had anything like a quarrel.

She is overwrought, as who would not be, naturally.

- Naturally.

- The question, to my mind, is connected

to something far greater, the rights of property itself.

- Absolutely.

- The house is mine and will one day be yours, Charles.

When I say that I don't want anyone living at Howards End,

I mean that no one is to live at Howards End.

- Then I take it tomorrow morning,

I may go up in the motor? - Mmm.

Yes, say that you're acting as my representative,

and that they must clear out at once.

You must go to bed now.

I've kept you up far too late.

- Can I do anything for you, sir?

- Hmm?

No, nothing, thank you, my boy.

Good night.

- Night, sir.

- It's only the train.

Len, have you got that pain again, Len?

You're all dressed!

- I'm just going out for a bit.

- What ho, Len.

- What ho, Jacky.

See you again later.

- Did you see the dawn?

And was it wonderful?

- No.

It was only gray.

Excuse me, could you direct me to Howards End?

- This is Howards End.

- Yes, thank you very much, Charles.

There are two boxes of books in the...

- Ms. Schlegel, Mrs. Wilcox, you'll have forgotten me.

- No, Mr. Bast, I have not forgotten you.

- I only want to know where your sister is, where Helen is.

- Who is it?

- Helen?

- Leonard!

- Oh, so this is Leonard Bast.

This is for insulting the name of woman.

Get me a stick, Margaret, a stick.

- Charles, we are perfectly capable of dealing with this.

- Get back!

Stand up!

- Charles!

- Stand up!

- Stop it, Charles!

- So it is your opinion

that he was in the last stages of heart disease?

- It would not be professional

to say so before an autopsy, but in private,

that could well be my diagnosis.

Obviously, he was in the last stage

because the moment I touched him

with the sword, he simply crumpled up.

- Excuse me, sir, what sword would that have been?

- Well, it's inside.

You'd better follow me.

It's their father's old German sword.

Course, I only touched him with the flat of it.

- Just once?

- Yes, once, perhaps twice.

- I presume you will be staying in Hilton, Mr. Wilcox, sir?

- Ah, yes, yes,

I'll be available as long as is necessary.

- And, Mr. Charles Wilcox, we shall be

requesting your presence at the inquest, sir.

- Yes, well, I did expect that.

I shall naturally be the most important witness.

- Margaret?

- Good, Henry, I was going to come

up to Hilton to give you these.

- Yes, I have something to tell you, Margaret.

- Never mind, Henry, I don't need to hear it.

I'm leaving you.

My life is with Helen now.

- Yes.

I'm extremely tired.

Come and sit down for a moment.

- Yes, for a moment, we'll have

to sit here on the grass then.

- Yes.

- Here are your keys.

We shall be staying with Ms. Avery

at the farm 'til we can leave.

- Yes, where are you going?

- To Germany.

We'll start as soon as possible after the inquest.

- After the inquest.

- If Helen is well enough.

- You realize what the verdict will be, don't you?

- Yes, heart disease.

- No, manslaughter, if not worse.

Charles may go to prison.

I dare not tell him.

I don't know what to do.

I don't know what to do.

I'm sorry.

Now, is this going to suit everyone?

Because I don't want you all coming here later on

and complaining that I've been unfair, Paul?

- Apparently, it's got to suit us.

- You've only to speak, my boy,

and I'll leave the house to you entirely.

- Since I have to be at the business all week,

I'll find something that suits me better.

This place is not really the country,

and, well, it's certainly not the town.

- Does my arrangement suit you, Evie?

- Of course, Father.

- Good, you, Dolly?

- I thought Charles wanted it for the boys,

but last time I saw him, he said no,

because we can't possibly live

in this part of England again.

Charles even says we ought to change

our name, but I can't think what to.

Wilcox just suits Charles and me,

and I can't think of any other name.

- Yes.

Then I leave Howards End to my wife absolutely.

Let everyone understand that, and after I'm dead,

let there be no jealousy and no surprise.

In consequence, I leave my wife no money,

that is her own wish, and all my

other assets are to be divided among you.

This house, Howards End, she intends,

at her death, to leave to her nephew.

- Whoop!

- It does seem curious.

Mrs. Wilcox wanted Margaret to have Howards—

- And now she gets it after all.

- Dolly.

- Did I put my foot in it?

- Hmm?

Yeah, yeah.

- Come on, let's get out of the way.

Tom, Tom, take baby's hand.

Oh, look, what's over there?

I wonder what it is.

- Oh, it's a sweet child,

rather like Didums was at that age.

- Come along, Dolly.

- Safe journey. - Goodbye.

- Is it trapped?

Come on, it's time away we came from the jungle.

Look, look who's there, look!

- What did Dolly mean about Howards End?

- Hmm?

My poor Ruth, during her last days,

scribbled your name on a piece of paper.

Knowing her not to be herself, I set it aside.

Didn't do wrong, did I?

There, they're off.

There they go, bye.

Bye.