Original subtitles

Do you like it?

Magnificent.

Without our Sundays, I'd go potty, I think.

Thank you, Jack.

Ma'am.

You're still not relaxed, Beatrice.

Look at that frown.

I'm sorry.

I can't stop scrutinising things.

Just to see if it sets off any ideas.

For the collection?

For the collection.

So far, we've settled on blue,

blue's the key colour.

We just have to decide on a theme.

I don't see how that ...

Has Evie had any ideas?

She's a bit stumped too, I think.

It all ties in.

Nocturne, the night piece.

And we'd already decided on evening wear,

in a range of blues.

Well?

Yes.

Yes, Evie.

And we make that the title of the collection;

Nocturne.

Not by Chopin, nor Whistler,

but by the House Of Eliott.

Oh, well done Evie, we've got our theme.

A letter, my lady.

From America.

Thank you, Chalmers.

I thought the fabric should be in shot taffeta,

to get that shimmering effect.

Hmm.

And the turquoise adds a lighter note.

It's lovely.

It's like ...

It's like one of the colours in his other nocturnes,

Blue and green.

Hmm.

You know, Evie, those paintings are famous now,

but in their day they caused the most enormous fuss.

Whistler was controversial.

I was wondering if we should not just be a bit daring,

you know?

Put colours together that don't necessarily.

Is this my practical, business-like sister?

Well, not the whole show,

just the final tableau.

The final tableau, gosh.

It sounds like a shallow review.

Well, Jack says we should be as big and bold

as if we were on the stage of the London Colosseum.

Oh well, if Jack says, then.

Oh.

Bea, it's a good idea.

I just think ...

Well, it needs-

I know, refining a little.

Start again.

Hurry up.

Let's get this down.

Okay.

Get your arm on my shirt.

Miss Maddox?

A word, please?

I wonder what she wants now.

Okay.

Come on, take it easy.

Put your arm on my shoulder. There you are.

Careful.

But I've always gone out with the van.

Well, the church is playing a bigger part now.

Reverend Adams is a very capable man.

Doesn't need help.

Well, what am I supposed to do,

sit about here all day, leaving everything to others?

You might spend a little time

trying to think up new ways of raising money.

I've been doing the accounts.

Our bank balance is far from healthy.

I'm not an accountant or a miracle worker.

They've appointed you administrator,

you think of something.

To make real money,

we need something like this.

Well, what are they supposed to be doing?

It is a dance, Miss Maddox,

for charity.

A charity ball? That is grotesque.

If people had any real heart, they would just give,

they're just parasites.

I think a charity ball sounds a good idea.

Oh, and in which book of the Scriptures did you read that?

Theology was never my strong point, Penelope.

If it's between faith and works, I'd plump for works.

Now, who could we get who could give it

exactly the right ...

Valance.

Claude Valance.

Who's he?

A very distinguished man of fashion.

If I wanted fashion I would just go to my friends,

the Eliotts.

The Eliotts?

But I've never heard of them.

Monsieur Valance is a couturier.

French.

He could be the guest of honour.

I do think it's a good idea.

Sometimes, we have to do things we don't like,

in order to raise money.

I'm quite pleased with this,

and so I have another little chore for you.

They're in a French magazine,

but you will have to help me,

I simply can't decide which one.

I'm terribly sorry,

but we're not doing this kind of thing anymore.

What kind of thing?

We only do originals,

no copies.

But you've done copies for other people,

I've seen them on my friends.

Our policy has changed.

You see, we have a reputation now, for original work.

How damnably arrogant.

Aren't you getting a little above yourselves?

Every house has its own way of doing things.

Well, from now on,

you may do them without my patronage.

Don't ever expect to see me here again.

Madge,

will you get Miss Ratigan a taxi, please?

Taxi.

Well.

That's a landmark.

The first customer we've ever turned away.

I hope we've done the right thing.

Bea.

Supper tonight, pick you up at seven.

Who do they think they are?

Not doing any more copies?

Nobody is.

It's rather going out.

I don't believe it.

Who on Earth am I going to get to do my ...

Oh, taxi.

Madge.

I couldn't.

It wouldn't be right.

What you do in your own time is your own affair,

isn't it?

I'm sure you could do with a little extra pocket money.

Yes.

Yes, I could.

These are awful.

You've never made me look like this before.

May I see them?

Oh, I'm so sorry, I ...

I'm afraid I've sent them to you without ...

Without what, young man?

They should've been retouched.

You mean to say that all my previous photographs ...

Oh, it's not true.

You're losing your touch,

everybody knows that.

I do not look like that.

I'm afraid ...

Surely you were aware ...

Do excuse me for a moment.

Beatrice?

I will not.

And I shall be taking my custom elsewhere.

Oh, you should've been a bit more tactful, Jack.

Blast the woman.

She is your bread and butter.

You're getting so cavalier, the way you treat people,

including me.

"Supper tonight."

No "please, thank you, is it convenient?".

I have other things on my mind.

Yes, and so have I.

Jack, I love to be with you,

you know I do.

But Evie and I are very busy at the moment.

I wish you'd never thought of that blasted collection.

Jack, you of all people ...

Please be fair to me.

I have to concentrate on the collection

for the time being.

You must see that?

You should be concentrating on your work, too.

This work right here.

Not vague plans and dreams.

If I were doing what I wanted to-

Jack, that's not good enough.

Why don't you retouch those pictures

and send them to the poor woman?

Forget the old dowager.

What about that supper?

I have to work through tonight.

I can't load it all on Evie.

So I have to wait till next Sunday?

Yes.

Please.

Thank you.

Yes?

Miss Howell.

I'm not so sure this is such a good idea after all.

You asked me to come here.

I did, didn't I?

On the table.

On the table, girl.

I simply cannot make up my mind.

A copy of this one,

or that,

or that.

Anyway, could you manage it?

I think so.

I just don't know.

Those Eliott girls would've got it right,

but I don't know you.

I'd say this one was you.

They're all me.

Why that one especially?

Instinct.

I look at them all,

and I look at you,

and that one.

It's just it.

What would it cost?

How about ...

If I make you something and you don't like it,

you don't pay?

You want to do this quite badly, don't you?

Are you also a little tired of the Eliott sisters?

I don't mean to imply that, Miss.

Ambitious, I would think.

Well, that's no sin.

All right.

Do it.

On those terms, what have I got to lose?

Bea?

Tell me when I can talk.

Now.

Why, what did you want to say?

I'm just glad that you and Jack,

well, you know ...

Evie, shouldn't you have someone?

Well, I know everything with Sebastian

was a terrible shock to you.

But you should go out and enjoy yourself again.

After the collection.

Besides, you can talk.

Jack is at you and at you to go out,

and you're forever putting him off.

That is a sure way to lose a man.

Is it?

How do you know so much about men?

One learns.

After Hugo and Sebastian,

give me someone with sense and experience.

Shouldn't you get interested in

someone your own age, Evie?

Shouldn't you relax a bit more,

and enjoy your romance with Jack?

Is it a romance?

It is for him.

He goes all soppy the minute you walk in the door.

You're not fair to him, Bea.

Well, because he's always, as you say,

at me to do this, and to do that.

I really can't stand to be badgered.

Well, if you end up unmarried and on your own,

don't come crying to me.

If it's a choice between that and being a man's footstall.

Jack would never ...

Beatrice, you are becoming quite impossible.

In the vicinity, indeed.

I think you're keeping an eye on me.

What on Earth makes you think that?

Brandy?

Thank you.

Is everything all right?

I've had a letter from Arthur.

He will keep on at me to join him in Boston.

He is sure I would like America.

Well, are you so sure that you wouldn't?

Such an upheaval even getting there.

Trains, ships.

It's America, Lydia,

not the South Pole.

This big old house must be quite a handful.

Sometimes I think I should sell up

and move to the country.

You are a metropolitan creature, Lydia.

You'd die of boredom in the country.

It is quite easy to die of boredom here.

I could open bazaars.

Do good works.

Surely there are some good works one can do in the country?

The villagers don't take kindly to Londoners

coming down and bossing them about.

What a vulgar expression.

Really, Desmond, as though I would ever boss anybody.

I simply ...

wish to discover.

What to do with the rest of your life.

I know.

I must confess, I feel lonely sometimes,

since my dear wife died.

Life is never quite the same, is it?

And in my case, all that terrible, terrible business.

Now, now.

It's over.

It's long over.

Now, you must look to the future.

That is rather the point, Desmond.

What future?

You startled me.

What on Earth are you doing here at this time of night?

I've often been here much later than this.

You're not doing those begging letters?

I'm writing the invitations for the charity ball,

to those who usually support us.

Well, there are other people on staff to do such things.

I don't remember authorising all this

extra stationary and envelopes.

I ordered them.

Well you shouldn't have.

Paper of this quality's far too expensive.

It doesn't cost the mission anything,

I donated every year.

Like so many other things,

this place will never function in a business-like way

so long as you treat it like your private charity.

Don't get upset.

I simply want to do things properly.

Well, do them, then.

Sit here till four in the morning,

like I have, again and again.

Do them all, damn you.

Lydia,

this is a somewhat delicate matter,

but have you ever thought of remarrying?

Goodness.

Desmond.

Of course, one can never really replace one's first love,

but, how to put it?

It should be such a comfort,

I am sure I'd find it so.

Why, you dear man.

And after all,

there must be many men in the same boat as yourself,

who'd be only too happy to.

Lydia,

I am not that man.

Only a very special man could meet your exacting standards.

And I can only hope in my humble way,

that I can continue to be your friend.

To friendship.

Friendship.

Yes.

You know, there's another of

Whistler's nocturnes somewhere.

A wonderful image of a rocket exploding,

and all the stars floating down the sky.

I'm not quite sure how we do that, though.

But Evie, that's our splash of controversy.

Shot silk, not blue, black.

Black velvet, black as the night,

with an applique,

a scattering of stars, gold and silver,

red and orange, and even purple stars.

Too much?

Just a bit.

And not black.

No.

No, our colour is blue.

Not on the gown itself,

but on a long, long veil, Evie.

The multi-colored stars.

Hmm.

And bolder than this.

Very, very bold.

Against ...

Against a deep blue skirt.

Fireworks would stand out much more boldly against black.

Morning.

What are you up to?

Just getting the girls' work ready.

Your hair's been looking very nice lately, Tilly.

Who does it for you?

Got this very nice little hairdressers

called Tilly Watkins.

Molineux.

Patou.

Fortunie, Homaine.

To be as famous as that.

Yolande Homaine has worked hard for years

to get to that position.

She deserves any fame she has.

Well, she is clever.

But I think our ideas are just as good.

I suppose there must have been a moment when someone

started to write about her,

and it made her fashionable.

If only somebody could-

No, Evie.

Put that right out of your mind.

We're not society, we're two ordinary, hard-working girls.

Well, it's not all guine,

even if I do say so myself.

This is inspired.

In this first collection, to make one big, bold impact.

What that would do for us, Evie.

Hmm.

On the other hand, if we were to make an unholy mess of it.

Right.

Night all.

Night, Madge.

Night, Agnes.

Right.

Night.

Don't work too hard, eh?

You've had a long day.

Nearly finished.

Night, Tilly.

Night.

Got you.

I knew you were doing something.

You've got another job, haven't you?

And you're using our time and our materials to do it.

What I do in my own time-

No, that's bits and pieces done by our girls.

Slipping them in, not even knowing they were doing it.

Well, that's cheating.

And you're cheating Miss Bea and Miss Evie, you are.

I work hard here. I don't owe them anything.

I used to cover up for you all those times,

when you were getting things wrong.

That was my bad eyes. I wasn't deceiving anyone.

They've done a lot for us, they have.

We do a lot for them.

We're the workhouse donkeys.

We carry the House of Eliott on our shoulders.

And I am very glad to do it.

All I've stolen is a bit of the company's time.

All the material and accessories I've bought

with my own money.

Well, I'm blowed if I understand you.

It were a chance.

Came out of nowhere.

They're very nice,

but I'd like to be my own boss one day.

Tilly, please don't tell on me.

It's beautiful.

It's a wonderful location for a love scene.

A little open, I think.

Evie would love this place.

She could have come with us.

She always used to.

I want you.

Only you, on your own.

Alone with me.

Alright.

You've got me.

Took me so long to realise what was there in front of me.

I'm scared to waste another minute, in case-

In case what?

In case I lose you,

which is stupid.

How can I lose what I haven't yet really won?

Haven't you?

I've heard of men being jealous of other men, but ...

Playing second fiddle to a fashion collection

must be terrible.

You mock me, Miss.

I know how important this collection is

to you and Evie.

But I have this fear, Bea.

Fear?

What do you mean?

You're addicted to work.

To the House of Eliott.

At the moment, it's the collection.

You say that everything will be all right after that,

but I think there'll be some new notion, some

grand new programme.

It's all work, Bea. There's no life.

Without a life, there's nothing to feed back into the work.

I'll just have to hope that one day,

work won't suffice anymore.

And then you will find someone

who always thought he was an impatient man,

patiently waiting

for you.

Mrs Smedeggan.

Good evening.

You look very grand.

I'm no good at this sort of thing,

but this Robert Adams.

That is, the Reverend Adams,

who does so much for the mission these days.

This is Mrs Cormack,

our new administrator.

Evangeline Eliott, Beatrice Eliott,

and this is my brother Jack.

Hello.

Miss Maddox's brother?

I hadn't expected such a dashing man.

Seems ages since I had a dance.

Let's get to it, then.

Oh, Evie.

Oh, right.

Robert, dance with Evangeline.

No, no, you're on official duty.

I'll just find a table.

Let me escort you, at least.

Be right back.

Good evening, how lovely to see you.

Good evening.

What an unusual gown.

Good evening.

Oh Jack, you will dance with Evie after this?

She's old enough to look after herself.

And pretty enough to attract her own admirers.

Jack.

Alright.

Evie will not go neglected.

Everyone looks so boring, Jack.

There must be at least one interesting man here.

There is.

You're looking at him.

Victor, what are you doing here?

Of course, working hard.

When Claude Valance appears,

so do we.

A charity ball, Jack.

A pretty dour charity, at that.

Not very chic.

No, my sister's the director.

As they say.

Whenever I open my mouth, I put my foot in it.

Introduce us, Jack.

Evie, this is Mr Victor Stride.

His word on fashion is law.

He could make or break you.

Victor, this is Miss Evangeline Eliott.

How do you do?

Nice to meet you.

Are you one of those two Eliott sisters

that people will keep telling me about?

I suppose so.

You mean, you don't know?

Victor, we're dancing. Talk later.

What on earth's the matter with you?

Jack, I have idolised that man for years.

So, you were struck quite dumb.

Poor Evie.

I must tell Bea.

How is it you know him?

We're drinking partners from years back.

Bea, I have just met Victor Stride.

No.

Over there.

I'm going to go and sit down.

Don't you want to dance, Penelope?

No thank you, Robert. I'm not a good dancer.

Ask Mrs Cormack. I'm sure she is.

Oh no,

we can't leave her here all alone,

in case there are any latecomers.

I do like champagne.

Probably because I can't normally afford it.

I know it's eating all the profits,

but just one glass each.

Is he married, Jack?

Not as far as I know.

I thought you said you'd known him for years.

People who booze together either talk about

personal matters or they don't.

Have you never heard?

Well, he is amazing.

He knows so much about women.

About why they choose the clothes they wear.

I'm glad someone could explain.

When I read Victor Stride, I know,

whatever Pen says,

that we're not just in a business that dreams up

silly things for women to show off.

He really gets to the heart of it.

Jack, you must her to Victor Stride properly.

You designed this?

Yes.

And your sister's?

Monsieur Valance.

At last, a use for my schoolboy French.

How distinguished.

Robert.

Great statesmen may be distinguished.

Great clergymen may be distinguished.

But a man who has spent his whole life

designing silly clothes for silly women can hardly-

It's charity, Penelope. Charity.

I know you hate all this, but the cause is good.

We'll see it through.

Most people are ...

Inarticulate.

They can't express themselves painting pictures,

or writing books,

but they can express themselves

through the clothes they wear.

And to help them discover how should be the ultimate aim

of every good designer.

I've always felt that it's not just matching the colour

of someone's complexion or someone's hair,

but it's how to convey who they really are,

or want to be.

Yes.

But there is a trap.

99% of the human race feel they should be wearing

exactly what everyone else is wearing.

It's your job to help them find the courage

to be themselves,

which includes the courage to reject all our

grand ideas,

and wear any old thing they please.

You still haven't said anything about ...

Real

flair.

But it's being constrained by something too conventional.

You must trust your talent.

Let the genie out of the lamp.

When may I come to the House of Eliott

to see more of your work?

It's salutary experience,

watching my young rivals in action.

I have to say, I still don't understand

why people don't come to me anymore.

You don't deserve their custom.

Lately, you're offhand, you're careless,

your mind's always on something else.

I don't blame the public for going elsewhere.

Not even my sister's ever spoken to me

as bluntly as that.

Well, you can hate me if you like, Jack-

Hate you?

Don't be silly, I love you.

And I love you. That's why ...

You actually said it.

You can't take it back now.

Take it back?

I don't say anything unless I mean it.

So,

when are we getting married, then?

Jack.

Is that a proposal?

Bea,

will you marry me?

Jack, please don't ask me that question.

Not yet.

I know.

After the collection.

After the show.

And I'll definitely think about it.

You do it.

Ladies and gentlemen,

I am Martha Cormack,

the new administrator of our mission.

The prize for the raffle this evening

has been donated by that

aristocrat of fashion,

the greatest couturier of them all,

Monsieur Claude Valance,

who joins us now to draw the winning ticket.

Monsieur Valance.

Number 382.

Now, ladies and gentlemen,

a few words from the founder of the mission,

Miss Penelope Maddox.

All I wish to say is ...

All I wish to say,

is that, while we are handing out

prizes of extravagant clothes,

and you are all dancing and swilling champagne,

there are people out there in the streets of London

not 300 yards from here,

who have no beds,

no shelter, and no food for the night.

And that, if you had any real charity in you,

you would have given your money direct to the mission,

instead of making us spend so much

on this ball and this band,

and all this stupid, wasteful nonsense.

Be quiet.

Pen really went too far this time.

Do you think we should have seen her home?

No.

I think Penelope's in the capable hands of Reverend Adams.

I don't care.

I don't take back a single word of it.

But you insulted the people who gave money to help us.

Why do you do such things?

I don't know.

Everything's changing.

And you're getting left behind.

Look.

You created all this.

You've helped hundreds of people.

There are others now to continue your work,

but without you, it would never have begun.

No, it doesn't belong to me anymore.

Penelope, I think you have to

come to terms with that.

I know.

I do know.

Thank you.

Putting me gently but firmly in my place.

Was I too brutal?

No.

You're very understanding.

I ...

I just don't seem to know what to do with my life.

This isn't enough for you anymore.

You must find something new.

I know I want to.

If I can get things settled,

I plan to go to Tanganyika.

Spread the word.

Africa?

Oh.

I say, what tremendous news.

I must just go and see that they've put an extra tea urn

in the van.

It's quite cold.

There'll be a big demand tonight.

I'll just go and change.

Thank you, ladies.

Thank you.

Thank you, Vaningham.

There, that wasn't too painful, was it?

No.

Well ...

We have a photographic record.

Would you like to see it?

It's of our best ...

Well, what we consider to be our best ...

Well, we hope to be our best work.

Photographs by Jack Maddox, actually.

Ah yes, Jack.

Of course, there's no colour,

but one can see the outline and-

I do get the point.

This was for Lady Finehurst.

Yes, I remember it.

She wore it at ...

Some vice regal affair.

So that was you two?

I had heard vaguely at the time it was somebody new.

Oh, and this is Mrs White,

at last year's Ascot.

Quite.

Dashing.

And Dolly Haycock.

Interesting.

These are our sketches.

Thank you.

Now, we have the colour.

Hmm.

How does one tell ...

How does one tell which one of you did which design?

Sometimes we can't tell, ourselves.

Evie has an idea,

then I'll sketch an outline,

and she says, "No, more like this,"

grabs a brush,

adds her own.

It really must sound hopelessly amateurish.

No, no, no.

It's fascinating, but ...

Perhaps it does explain why, sometimes,

the genie ...

Doesn't quite get out of the lamp.

Although I have to admit,

more often than not, he does.

What else?

Well, obviously, what you're working on right now

is the most important.

We're mounting our first collection.

Naturally-

Ah.

Naturally, it's the greatest possible secret,

and must be kept so.

Very frustrating for me, but I do understand.

In Paris, they almost murder for advance news

of what Chanel or Poiret are doing.

Really.

Your first collection.

Ah, so I take it means he likes you?

Anything definite?

One, maybe two articles in Soignier.

Can you believe it?

I'm so sorry I disturbed you.

What are you doing?

Each picture represents a scene.

How clever.

I didn't invent it.

It's a good way of showing potential investors

what the finished product will look like

on the silver screen.

If I could find any investors, that is.

But I thought film was the thing.

Prizing money out of British businessmen.

"Films?

Bit frivolous, what?"

Well, why don't you go and see Desmond?

He likes you.

You think I should?

Perhaps he'll be my Victor Stride.

I'm very pleased.

I'm so, so proud of you.

The father dies.

Two sisters are left alone in the world.

No money, no prospects.

But there is an out.

I wasn't alone.

My son, Arthur.

Oh, yes.

Arthur Eliott.

He would have supplied the necessary business knowledge.

As they were getting set up.

Those girls couldn't have done a thing without Arthur.

Good.

Business acumen, plus creative flair.

Please go on.

Capital, Jack.

Capital.

But I must be honest.

My own board will be unlikely to sanction

what they'd see as a risky investment.

Same old story.

However, I do have business associates

who might be a little less highbrow.

No promises.

Let me see what I can do.

Evie.

Evie.

We have to make a decision about the final dress.

Blue or black?

Beatrice, I can't work and think at the same time.

Please.

Madge,

what's this?

Would you come and see me in my office,

when you've finished there?

Evie.

Miss Ratigan seemed in a hurry.

I was providing all the materials and

working at home at night.

It didn't seem ...

I didn't mean it to interfere with our work here.

It's a sort of challenge.

I see.

But it entailed more than you realised.

I slipped in bits for the girls to do.

But each one of them did so little

it didn't hold them up that much.

That is for us to decide.

What's worse is you raided our files.

You took blots from our plan chest.

I didn't steal them.

I returned them as soon as I'd finished with them.

Madge, you have been very foolish.

We value your work here.

The workroom is so well-organized that,

despite our setbacks, we're a little ahead of schedule

for the collection.

Madge, you're to finish Miss Ratigan's garment

without any further assistance from the House of Eliott.

And then give us your full attention.

I'm not-

You may go now.

Never do it again.

Monsieur Duroques.

It's almost the way we stole Miss Spencer

from Monsieur Duroques.

And look at us now.

I wonder where Madge will end up.

I don't want it.

You haven't even tried it on.

I don't need to.

I can tell.

I've been up night after night to get it finished.

I nearly lost my job over this dress.

Bad luck, old thing.

I don't owe you a penny.

You did it all at your own risk.

Your suggestion, by the way, not mine.

Why don't you like it?

My dear, you said yourself.

People only wear originals now.

That is a copy.

I thought you were happy with it

as it stood.

It's a general interest story.

It goes beyond fashion.

I didn't write this.

No, Victor, you wrote it all.

Expect for that one little para

that I want to slip in at the top.

I'm a fashion writer.

This is scandal-mongering.

I would not want my name on it.

No.

No.

The Eliotts are sincere, hard-working young women.

You have no right to do that to them.

It's a rough.

It can be modified, Victor.

Even a fashion writer's a journalist.

You must see that the connection with Arthur Eliott

is simply too good to miss.

Let's see if we can compromise, shall we?

Evie?

Evie.

Yes.

I've just been thinking about the final dress,

the rocket.

It's all right, it's all right.

I've come round to your idea.

I think ...

Well, to be really dramatic,

it has to be on black.

How funny.

I've just been wondering whether stars and spangles

on a black veil would ever get the right effect.

It might look like rather a tame gesture.

No, I think we go back to the original idea.

All blue.

Good.

A backer?

You found a backer?

Yes, but not entirely unconditional.

I have to say that I'm imposing the condition myself.

What do I have to do?

Surrender the freehold of your studio as a security

and collateral against the loan.

Are you prepared to do that?

Desmond, I would sign my own mother over.

The studio, absolutely.

Good man.

I think you'll find the amount adequate

to set up the company,

and to fund further development.

Must be very keen on cinema, this chap.

Who is it?

Benedict Elson.

Elson?

No.

Well, I don't know too much about your world, Desmond,

but any man who's prepared to back me,

that man I have to meet.

Ah, well that may be a little bit difficult.

He's abroad on business for a little while.

You'll meet him when he gets back.

Desmond, I ...

I feel like a child who's been given

the biggest train set in the world.

Thank you. Thank you.

You haven't toned this down at all.

If anything, it's worse.

Victor-

I thought you were running a respectable

fashion magazine. This?

This has sold more copies in a day

than we usually do in a week.

This is gross misrepresentation.

You're not thinking of doing anything foolish,

are you, Victor?

I ought to resign.

It's up to you.

We don't want to lose you, Victor.

How nice.

I go sailing along unperturbed,

when I may have ruined two reputations,

and brought a prosperous business crashing down.

Oh.

Lydia.

How could you have done this to us?

I didn't write it.

You are quoted repeatedly.

How you and your son virtually set us up.

How Arthur was led into a den of vice.

The distinct impression given is

the House of Eliott was founded on funds

from illicit alcohol,

from drugs and from lord knows what else.

I didn't say those things.

Then what did you say?

Simply, that as your older relatives,

Arthur and I naturally encouraged you.

When in fact you put every objection possible

in our way.

Beatrice.

Don't scold me.

I feel so wretched.

Oh, you feel wretched?

I said nothing.

I said not a word about that dreadful Soho club.

The magazine added all that.

Would I bring it up?

I want to forget it.

Well, it must be that detestable journalist.

What can you do?

I know what it's like to have one's name

dragged through the mud.

You can protest all you like.

What people remember is what they read about you

in the first place.

Nothing wipes that out.

What effect will it have on the business, do you think?

Nothing good, I'm sure.

Mr Stride.

Mr Victor Stride, isn't it?

I wish to see your employers.

Miss Beatrice and Miss Evangeline have left

instructions that you are not to be admitted, sir.

I must see them.

I'm here to explain.

As far as they're concerned, Mr Stride,

no explanation would suffice.

I'm to see you off the premises.

Perhaps you'd be kind enough

to tell Miss Evie I called.

My God.

What possessed you to write that stuff?

I didn't.

Fleet Street.

If you can,

try to make them understand.

No.

You make them understand.

I don't know how you can talk to that man.

Beatrice, let me tell you what he said.

I don't want to hear excuses or apologies.

Bea, it's not the end of the world.

When the collection actually comes out-

The collection is now a huge risk, Jack.

We may have to think of cancelling the whole thing.

Nonsense. It's just what you need.

A chance to show the world just how talented

the Eliott sisters are.

And then, when it's over, you can

forget about the collection, and you and I can-

Don't keep on at me, Jack.

Please don't put any pressure on me.

You know I hate it.

Especially now.

Just leave me alone.

If I do leave you, Beatrice,

that may well be exactly how you end up.

Alone.