All language subtitles for FiHTV.English.updated.Addic7ed.com

If two people were to be
born at the exact same instant

and very near to one another,

they would become
what's known as astral twins.

They would share a destiny.

They weren't
just after my money.

They were after my name.

Who are you?

How about you call me Mr Wells?

What? This is blackmail.

- You're blackmailing me.
-I am.

So we were born
in the very same instant.

Under the very same sky.

- Drink.
- Or what?

Or I blow your brains out.

Hey!

You were talking in your sleep.

- What did I say?
- 1 don't know.

It was Cantonese.

Francis Carver.

- There.
- Forgery?

It's his signature.
It's not forgery.

Gentlemen,
I 'am a man of reason.

I do not believe in magic.

Beg pardon, sir.
I gave you the wrong one.

Oh, good.

Yes, there was a mistake.

This is isn't my trunk.

I was just making sure.

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Alistair Lauderback made some
very serious allegations

against you last night.

Men are so different
until they're disappointed.

Then they're all the same.

This business with the ship.

It was between
Crosbie and Alistair -

nothing to do with me.

I don't want any mention of it.

Not now, not in court,

not at any time until that girl
is hanging by her neck.

- You understand me?
- Perfectly.

- What's this?
- Evidence of forgery,

as attested by a man of God.

Any idea what she's playing at?

None.

You will wait
until your trial.

I can bail.

You know I have the money.

The gold from my dress.

You've been charged with murder,
Miss Wetherell.

You cannot bail.

Emery's alive.

He needs help.

Please.

You killed him.

You killed them both.
First Wells, and then Staines.

No, you don't understand.

- I shot myself and then...
- You forged his signature.

No. It wasn't forgery.
I can't explain it.

You think we do not talk?
The whole town knows about it.

I just need to find him. Please.

Here is my advice,

plead lunacy.

What?

You have changed your story.

First you say you killed him;
now you say he is alive.

First you sign his name;
now you say there is no forgery.

You are guilty.

Lunacy is the only chance
you have.

But I'm not a lunatic.

What's all this?

Do you know, something
utterly extraordinary

is just about to happen?

It has occurred just once
before in our lifetimes.

The moon will be full just
before the 1st of February

and then again
just after the 28th.

A month without a moon.

What are you doing, Lydia?

I'm going to host a seance to
make contact with Emery Staines.

What?

He went missing
the night Crosbie died.

No one's seen him since.

What, and you're
going to find him?

No.

I'm going to put myself into
a trance, speak in his voice

and then accuse her of murder.

You were right.

Way back at the beginning,
you said get rid of her,

and I said no.

- You were right.
- Lydia.

She's playing us, Francis,
and I do not get played!

Lydia.

I want her dead.

Lydia, please,
you'll get what you want.

Let the trial play out.

We're on a knife edge.

One false step, and it's not
that girl on the gallows.

It's you and me.

We don't wish to take up
too much of your valuable time,

Mr Justice. You have
our evidence already.

Here are the names of the
witnesses we wish to call.

We also recommend,

given the nature of the
defendant's profession,

that the jury be culled
where possible

from adjacent goldfields.

She's a prostitute, Mr Justice,

and to put it mildly,
very well known.

- I'm not whoring any more.
- A former prostitute.

Excuse me.

You are, of course, permitted
to be tried by judge alone,

if you feel a jury
will be prejudicial.

Do you have any witnesses?

Anyone you might wish to call?

Yes. Mr Emery Staines.

Mr Justice, this is
a stalling tactic.

Mr Staines is missing
and presumed to be dead.

- He's not dead.
- He has not been seen

since the night of Mr Wells'
demise, Mr Justice.

You'll find this is
all of a piece.

Is there anybody else?
Anyone who saw you that night

who could vouch for you?

The man who found me.

The Right Honourable
Mr Alistair Lauderback?

Maybe he saw something.

Mr Lauderback...

for the defence.

To Mr Alistair Lauderback,

Provincial Council, Canterbury.

March 1864.

Sir, you do not know me,
but I am your brother.

Your father sired a bastard
by a prostitute.

I am that bastard.

I was raised in Yorkshire,

taking the surname
of my parish priest.

I have not suffered.

But I desired always
to learn my father's name,

to look upon his shape
and hear his voice.

Recently, my prayers
were answered

with a letter
from the man himself.

He had always known of me,
he wrote.

He enclosed me £20
and asked for my forgiveness.

I resolved to seek him out.

But then I made a blunder,

seeing in the shipping news
that Alistair Lauderback

was departing for
the colonies next tide.

I believed it was my father.

I did not know
he had another son.

I did not think that son
might share his name.

I made a plan to follow him.

In due course,
I landed in Dunedin

and began to make enquiries
as my fortunes would allow.

But when I saw your likeness,

I knew at once that I had erred

and that you were not my father
but my brother.

Sir, I never wanted
to be in this country.

I never sought this life.

But I have spent
our father's £20

and do not now have
the means to return home.

I beg you for your charity,

believing you to be
a good and Christian man,

and because I will remain,
always, your brother,

Croshie Wells.

June 1864.

Sir, two months have passed
since I wrote you last.

Sir, I have begged you twice.

And even I, a whore's son,
am too proud to beg again.

July 1864.

Sir, my fortunes
are much changed.

I am proud to say I write this
as a married man.

Mrs Wells,

as I must call her now,
is a fine specimen of her sex

and a woman I shall be very
proud to carry on my arm.

I suppose she is
your sister now.

August 1864.

Sir, I do not know
if my letters reach you,

or in what spirit
you read them if they do.

But I believe I have become
contented by your silence,

strange as that may sound.

June 1865.

I have made a strike
on the gold fields.

I write not as your inferior,
but as your equal.

I 'am now a rich man.

Sir, it is a marvel to me
in this new world

that one so low born could
find himself so elevated.

Perhaps I take after our father
in more ways than I knew.

August 1865.

You'll notice from my postmark
that I've upped my sticks,

as the saying goes.

Suffice to say I have been
betrayed, swindled,

nearly murdered and robbed of
any means to prove the crime.

I owe my life not to my own
cunning or perseverance,

but to the kind intervention
of a girl

I then abandoned to her fate.

I met betrayal with betrayal,
and that I must always regret.

I'm sorry
I'm your only witness.

However, I honestly
don't see how I can help.

Where did you get those?

Who gave you those?

I thought you did.

They are private property.
They are stolen property!

I could have you...

A politician and a prostitute.

What do you want?

Why didn't you write back?

He kept writing.

You never replied.

Why?

I was ashamed.

Of my father.

And then, after a while,
of myself.

And then I couldn't write.

It had been too long.
What would I say?

There was too much to say.

So I thought I'd go and
meet him, face to face.

But I was too late.

I never knew she was married.

In his letters, Crosbie
never called her anything

but Mrs Wells.
You've read them. You know.

He never used
her Christian name,

and with me, she only called
herself Miss Greenway.

I never knew what
Crosbie looked like.

So when that man Carver told me
his name was Crosbie Wells,

I had no reason
not to believe him.

He knew the whole story.
He mentioned the letters,

my father.

Our father.

It wasn't till Crosbie
wrote again,

a few months later,
that I realised

I'd been played by an imposter.

If I'd only replied,

if 1.,

Well,

there it is - my dirty secret.

It's not dirty.

And it's not just yours.

You don't have to testify.

You're the girl
that saved his life.

It didn't matter.

They still killed him.

Keep them.

I know them by heart anyway.

How long have you been up?

I shot him.

That night, when I was leaving,
he startled me;

I shot him square in the chest.
I thought I'd killed him.

- Maybe you missed.
- 1 didn't miss.

How is he still alive?

I don't know.

Mr Mannering.

This should be very interesting.

Yes, indeed.

Mr Lowenthal.

Move. Move!

Shouldn't you be up the front?

I didn't take the case.

What? Why the hell not?

Her story's indefensible.

The missing bullet?

The cut on her hand?

Losing her memory?
It doesn't make sense.

That's why she needs
a bloody lawyer!

You talk to her. You'll see.

I can't. I'm a witness.
I'm not allowed.

For the prosecution?

Of course for the bloody
prosecution. There's no defence!

She's representing herself.
It isn't murder; it's suicide.

Quiet, please.

Mr Carver.

Were you acquainted at all

with the late Mr Crosbie Wells?

Not well. He married one of
my tenants, Lydia Greenway,

now Lydia Wells.

The property in question being
35 Cumberland St, Dunedin,

formerly the Hotel Oriental,

later known as the
House of Many Wishes?

That's correct.

Were you aware of the bonanza
discovered by Mr Wells

in the Dunstan Valley
in the month of May last year?

I was aware. He had a strongbox
delivered. I saw it go in.

Was Miss Anna Wetherell
residing at the property

- at the time?
- Yes, she was.

So, to put it crudely,

she knew what Mr Wells
was now worth.

I don't know.
I suppose so.

Do you know Miss Wetherell's
nickname, Mr Mannering?

It's...

Chinaman's Ann.

Why?

She has a taste for opium.

She goes to Chinatown to get it.

This fortune,

valued at precisely £4096,

was discovered in Mr Wells'
cottage shortly after he died.

Can you read the engraving,
please?

It says Aurora.

Do you know who made this
engraving, Mr Mannering?

- I can guess.
- Please do.

A man named Quee, Johnny Quee.

Pardon me. Quee -
is that an English name?

He's a Chinaman.

Thank you. No further questions.

Your witness, Miss Wetherell.

I never saw that gold before.

Mr Justice,
Counsel is testifying.

Miss Wetherell, you'll restrict
yourself to questions only.

I have no questions
for Mr Mannering.

In your professional opinion,
Mr Pritchard,

what was the cause of the
death of Mr Crosbie Wells?

Excessive consumption
of laudanum.

Taken freely, or coerced?

Couldn't say.

Do you recognise
this phial, sir?

Yes, it's one of mine.

Have you ever supplied the
defendant with such a phial?

I have.

- On more than one occasion?
- Yes.

And laudanum is a tincture
of opium, correct?

- Yes.
- Would you go as far as to say

she has a dependence
on the drug?

A dependence so severe, in fact,

as to drive her into the arms
of Chinamen every day?

What's your question?

Do you believe
Miss Anna Wetherell

- to be capable of violence?
- We all are, sir.

We wouldn't be human otherwise.

But a woman suffering from
such a desperate compulsion

would surely be
more capable than most.

No further questions.

Your witness,
Miss Wetherell.

Why isn't she going
to cross? What's her plan?

I don't think
she has one.

I took Miss Wetherell
into my home.

Crosbie tarnished that charity.
Miss Wetherell abused it.

You and Mr Wells were estranged
at the time of his death -

is that correct?

It
is.

What was the reason
for your estrangement?

She was.

A fool could see the way she
looked at him, at his money.

She's a whore, after all.

Poor Crosbie was entranced.

Wouldn't hear a word
against her.

We had a row, he stormed out,

and I regret to say, I...

I never saw him again.

If it was the only time
this had happened,

I would have forgiven him.
But you see,

she was simply the last
in a very long sequence

of young women...

just like her.

Do you think the defendant
killed your husband, Mrs Wells?

Governor,

I know she did.

Miss Wetherell, do you wish
to cross-examine this witness?

Yes,
do.

I have here a letter...

addressed to Mr Lauderback,
from Mr Wells.

It's dated December last year.

Mr Justice,
this is not in evidence.

Go on.

Miss Wetherell?

Could you read it out, please?

The whole thing.

This is entirely unverified, sir.

No, I want to hear it.

Mrs Wells?

West Canterbury.

December 1865.

Sir, I observe
in the West Coast Times

that you mean to make your
passage overland and not by sea.

Your route will take you down
the length of the Arahura River

and past my house.

I dare to hope that this
may provide occasion

for us to meet at last.

I shall describe the dwelling

so that you may approach
or stay away as you see fit.

The house is high above
the Arahura River

on its southern side.

The dwelling is a small one,
fashioned by my own hand.

Perhaps even if you do not stop,
I shall see you riding by.

I shall not expect it...

...nor hope for it, but wish
you a pleasant journey westward

and a victorious campaign

and remain, with deepest
admiration, Crosbie Wells.

Mr Lauderback is the man who
sold Crosbie Wells his ship -

is that right?

The ship known as the Godspeed,

which he bought
using the bonanza

he found in the
Dunstan Valley last year.

Of course, I can only guess he
used the gold to buy the ship,

but how else
could he afford it?

Mr Justice, I fail
to see the relevance.

Where is this leading?

It just seems strange.

If Mr Wells had bought a ship
from Mr Lauderback,

a ship worth thousands
and thousands of pounds,

why does he write as though
they have never met before?

You said she
couldn't read, Lydia.

- She can't!
- What else didn't you know?

- Who is it?
- Letter for Mr Carver.

I've been summoned as a witness.

- For the prosecution?
- No, for the defence.

- What?
- Ah, she's planning something.

She's got something on us,
and she's keeping it back.

- Staines?
- No, she'd have named him

as a witness.
It must be something else.

Why does that bloody Maori
keep hanging about?

- The seance.
- Lydia, we need something real!

No, you said it yourself.

If she knew where he was, she
would've named him as a witness.

He's her alibi.

He's dead, Francis - he's
either dead, or he's disappeared

and left her to hang.
Either way, it's in our favour.

This is where we get her.
Forget Croshie.

We frame her for murdering Staines.

Emery?

This bond - do you still feel it?

Yes.

He's still alive.

He's just lost.

Tell me what you see.

Three bloody shillings for
an evening's entertainment.

You'd think she was
calling up Helen of Troy.

Hey, Chinaman!

You blind? There's a queue.

Mr Mannering, naturally.

But who is this?

Mr Walter Moody, ma'am.

- He's a lawyer.
- A lawyer, indeed?

And what's your interest here
tonight, Mr Moody? I'm curious.

Then we have something
in common, Mrs Wells.

All of us have aspects of
darkness and aspects of light,

a face we show
and a face we hide,

something that waxes
and something that wanes,

something that rises
and something that sets,

the light that's borrowed
and the light that burns,

the sun

and the moon,

the spirit and the soul,

the Luminaries.

I ask you now to maintain
absolute silence...

and join hands...

as I place myself...

into a trance.

What did she say to him?

Murderer.

Lydia!

Lydia!

- He need medicine.
- EMERY: No.

Take me to Anna, please.

Anna!

You're alive!
You're alive.

Astral twins.

You think it's mad.

I think it's wonderful.

So we were born
in the very same instant.

Under the very same sky.

Do you believe it?

Yes.

I don't understand it.

I can't explain it, but...

I believe it.

Francis Carver,
I'm arresting you

in connection with the unlawful
acquisition of the Godspeed.

No, you can't take him.

He's been called
as a witness in the trial.

He'll testify -
don't worry about that.

There has to be
an explanation.

What I saw aboard the Godspeed -

it is impossible.

It defies logic.

No one would ever believe it.

So if it's impossible,
then you've never met before.

What?

Emery was never on the Godspeed.

I don't understand.

What you saw really was a ghost.

I'll do it. I'll testify.

This is extremely reckless.

We know.

You can't be in there.
Get out of there immediately!

Mr Staines is a key witness.

Miss Wetherell has every right
to meet with him

and to conduct those meetings
in total privacy.

And who the hell are you?

The lawyer for the defence.

Mr Staines, how did you
first become acquainted

with Miss Anna Wetherell?

We first met on the day of
our arrival in New Zealand,

a little under a year ago.

And I'm ashamed to say
I treated her rather badly.

- You see, I stole her purse.
- I beg your pardon.

Just to clarify - this is the
purse that was later discovered

in the home of Mr Croshie Wells?

The very same.
But the laudanum phial was mine.

Thank you. Please go on.

When I picked her pocket, I was
witnessed by Mr Francis Carver.

I thought he'd
surely turn me in.

But I suppose,
being a smuggler himself,

he saw in me a kind of
kindred spirit.

I beg your pardon, Mr Staines.
A smuggler?

He served 10 years on Cockatoo
Island on a charge of smuggling.

Under Governor Shepard,
I believe.

And Mr Carver was soon
telling me about a man he knew,

Crosbie Wells, who had recently
struck it rich on the field.

Mr Carver had devised a scheme
to kill him, steal his bonanza

and assume his name.

You see, Mr Wells was married,
and his wife, Lydia Wells,

had been conducting an affair

with the wealthy politician
Alistair Lauderback.

Mr Carver wanted
to use the affair

to blackmail Mr Lauderback
into giving up a ship he owned.

How did the bonanza fit in?

The gold would be concealed
in a trunk

that was bound offshore
under Mr Lauderback's name.

If anyone opened it, they'd
assume that Mr Lauderback

had stolen the colour himself

and was smuggling it
out of the country.

It belonged to the husband
of his mistress, after all.

The plan was that Mr Carver,
posing as Mr Wells,

would use the affair and
the trunk as his leverage

in the blackmail
for the Godspeed.

It was a proper stitch-up.

Carver and I cut a deal.
We agreed I'd go to Hokitika.

I would, in both our names,
peg a claim on a tailing pile.

Meanwhile, Carver would
carry out the blackmail,

then sail the Godspeed
to Hokitika,

take the gold from the trunk
and salt it into our claim.

We'd call it legal profit,
split the winnings between us

and go our separate ways.

What happened next?

Well, I went off to Hokitika
to do as I was bid.

And some days later,
the Godspeed arrived,

with the trunk on board
but without Mr Carver.

It wasn't what we'd planned.

I figured the swindle
must have gone awry somehow.

Nevertheless, I took
the gold from the trunk,

salted it into the claim
as we'd agreed,

and waited for Mr Carver
to show up.

But instead, I was reunited
with Miss Wetherell.

She had since fallen on
hard times. She was with child.

And she asked me for help.

She told me about a plot
she'd uncovered back in Dunedin

to kill a man, steal his fortune
and take his name.

She'd figured it all out.

Because of her, Mr Wells had
escaped and gone to ground,

and now Mr Carver
was looking for him,

to finish what he'd started

and get revenge for a cut
he'd sustained to his face.

Miss Wetherell was afraid
that once he arrived

back in Hokitika,
he'd try to kill her too.

So she asked me
for my protection.

Well,

I was starting to feel more
than a little ashamed of myself.

She had no idea that I was
in business with Mr Carver.

But I was too much of a coward

to tell her the truth
about the part I'd played.

So I agreed to help.

When Mr Carver arrived
in Hokitika,

I put myself between them.
There was a terrible fight.

He flew into a rage,
and as a consequence,

the child Miss Wetherell
was carrying was lost,

as witnessed by many men
here who could testify.

And after that,
I couldn't forgive him.

I vowed I wouldn't rest
until I'd found Crosbie Wells,

restored his fortune
and put everything to rights.

It was then I learned
a Chinaman, Mr Quee,

had been digging
my tailing piles...

and found the gold
I'd buried there.

He'd smelted it
into little squares

and engraved each square
with the word 'Aurora',

to signify which claim
it issued from.

I didn't want to bank the gold,
as I was legally obliged.

If I did, you see, Carver
would get his half shares,

and I was determined now
he'd never see a penny.

I took it up north,

intending to bury it on
Maori land, for safekeeping.

And that's when I encountered
Croshie Wells.

I confessed.
I told him everything.

At first, he didn't believe
the gold was really his.

But I showed him
Miss Wetherell's purse,

and he was persuaded.

Wells had his fortune
back at last.

But Mr Carver had stolen his
passport and his miner's right.

He had no way of proving
his own provenance,

let alone the gold's.
But he took it anyway...

and thanked me
for my change of heart.

And we parted as friends.

I then went back to Hokitika,

determined to tell Miss
Wetherell the truth at last,

but she wouldn't
grant me an audience.

She'd since learned
that I owned the Aurora

on a joint share with Mr Carver,
and she was very angry with me.

She refused to let me visit her,

so I felt obliged
to go to her employer

and purchase her company
for the night.

This was on the night of the
14th of January this year?

Yes.

We met at the opera house.

And I told her the whole story.

- What did she do?
- She was very upset.

She wished to go to Mr Wells
at once. She left.

That's the last I saw of her.

What did you do?

I went to Chinatown.

You see, I'm rather
ashamed to admit

I have a weakness for opium
in all its forms.

I woke up one day. Mr Sook was gone.

Sol upped and left,
intending to return to Hokitika.

I was extremely ill.

It was days...
before I was found,

and only then that I discovered
that Crosbie Wells was dead.

I can only assume what really-

Mr Justice, this is conjecture.

It
is.

But I'd like to hear it.

I can only assume that
Mr Carver overheard us

at the opera house that night,

learned where Mr Wells
was living

and went at once
to poison him.

So when Miss Wetherell
turned up, he was already dead.

- This is pure speculation, sir!
- Thank you, Mr Staines.

I have no further questions.

By your own admission,
you were nowhere near

the Arahura Valley on the night
that Croshie Wells was killed.

You have no idea who was present
or what transpired.

With respect, sir, nor do you.

Nor do any of us,
except Mr Carver.

He's the only one who was there.

- All right, that's enough.
- Carver posed as Wells to buy

the ship. Wells had to die,
or the swindle wouldn't work.

It was part of the plan
from the beginning.

If you were not there, then
you cannot say to a certainty

that Anna Wetherell did not
murder Croshie Wells.

She had no reason to.

Again, by your own admission,

you have withheld
a great deal of information

from Miss Wetherell over the
course of your relationship.

Is it not possible that
she has done the same to you?

No, I do not think it possible.

Why not?

Because I trust her.

I'm asking if you
think it possible,

not if you think it probable.

I understand the question.
My answer is unchanged.

What induced you to trust
Miss Wetherell?

I trust her because I love her.

And how did you come
to love her?

By trusting her, of course.

Do you recognise this document?

- I do.
- Did you sign it?

I suppose I must have done.
On the night it was composed,

I was very drunk.
I don't remember everything.

So you don't remember
signing it.

- Oh, it's my signature.
- That wasn't my question.

Mr Justice,
where is this leading?

Get to the point, Governor.

I have it on good authority,
Mr Staines,

that the signature on
this document was forged

by Anna Wetherell for
her own personal gain.

On whose good authority?

Mr Justice, I call my chaplain,

Mr Cowell Devlin,
to come forward.

I'm afraid
you can't do that, sir.

Mr Devlin is in
full co-operation.

Mr Devlin is a clergyman.

He cannot be compelled
to testify against a penitent.

He is not being compelled,
and she is not his penitent.

Mr Devlin testifies
of his own free will.

Mr Devlin?

Mr Devlin?

She signed this deed
before your very eyes.

You gave this to me.

I cannot share what was
disclosed to me in confidence.

I will not testify.

How dare you?

If I may,
she couldn't have forged it,

even if she wanted to.
She's illiterate.

What?

Sir, we direct your attention
to an item already in evidence -

the ticket discovered
by the prosecution

in Miss Wetherell's purse.

You will observe that
she signed with an X.

If the veracity of the deed
is still in question,

you will find...

the signature from Mr Wells
matches exactly the signature

on the private correspondence
to Mr Lauderback

already in evidence,

though it does differ
significantly from the signature

on the Godspeed's deed of sale.

You may continue with
your cross-examination, sir.

No further questions.

Mr Moody?

The defence calls
Mr Francis Carver.

Place your hand
on the Good Book.

Do you, in your testimony today,
swear to tell the truth,

the whole truth
and nothing but the truth?

To Francis Carver.

May you get the death
that you deserve.

Mr Carver.

Did you, posing as
Mr Crosbie Wells,

and in collusion
with Mrs Lydia Wells,

blackmail Mr Alistair Lauderback

into relinquishing ownership
of his barque Godspeed,

using a fortune
stolen from Mr Wells

and with the intention
of taking his life?

You have no proof...

of anything.

It's my word against his.

Please answer the question.

There was no collusion.

Mrs Wells -

Lydia.

Lydia Wells had
nothing to do with it.

The murder was my design,

my execution.

Once a convict,
always a convict.

Francis.

No, you can't! No!

No!

No!

Cheerio.

Ka kimi puretumu
au I tenei mamae.

Governor! Governor!

We can't go back.

We can never go back.
Every moment only happens once.

You told me that.

Did 1?7

Yes. Then you said it again, so...

We declare the defendant

to be not guilty.

Miss Anna Wetherell is hereby
acquitted of all charges.

It remains for the court
to consider two matters -

first, the just distribution
of these spoils,

and second, the testimony
provided so fulsomely

by one witness for the defence.

Mr John Long Quee.

All men, regardless
of their provenance,

deserve reward for work
fairly and honestly undertaken.

You may draw down your bonus
at the oriental rate

against this sum.

The remainder
shall be surrendered

to the Hokitika Town Council
to be invested at their pleasure

in the continued enforcement...

of the law.

As for Mr Emery Staines...

...the crimes to which
you have confessed

are numerous and grave.

But the spirit of your
confession recommends you,

as does the effort
you have made towards reform.

We sentence you...

to one year in prison
with hard labour,

reducible to nine months
in the event of good behaviour.

I'll be out before you know it.

I'll be waiting.

I know you will.

Because I'll be waiting too.

All right, come on.

Let's go.

You know you could
have just asked.

You didn't have
to steal my purse.

You could have just asked me,

to my face,

if I'd come and work for you.

And I would have said yes.

You probably didn't
need an apprentice.

But...

I loved it.

Putting the house in order.

Your little table,
with the planets.

How you cast a spell
over the crowd.

I loved every part of it.

And if you'd just...

asked me...

I would have stayed.

What are you doing?

Take it.

I don't want it.

Take it!

Miss Wetherell.

Anna!

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