Original subtitles

Synched May 2024

The bad dreams always come back again like unwanted friends.

And last night I found myself in Limeridge Churchyard.

Normally people who are dead stay dead.

Just as normally it is the criminals who are locked up rather than the victims.

But then, there was nothing normal about what happened to us.

Except perhaps the beginning.

That summer's day on Limeridge Lawn, where we

witnessed the fate of poor Laurie's croquet ball.

And that night, the arrival of a tutored teacher's drawing.

You don't suspect me of wrong, do you, sir?

Why do you suspect me of wrong?

I, I suspect you of no wrong.

I hid to watch you pass.

Do you stay here?

Yes, I have been offered a post.

How happy you must be.

Where do you stay?

Not here, but there and everywhere, towns.

I do what I'm told, sir.

Do you want to tell me, sir, what to do?

Why?

Who are you?

I'm not meant to be here.

They do not want me here.

Do you know a baronet, sir?

No.

Perhaps I can trust you.

Mr. Hart, right?

You saw a woman from the village, probably.

I can assure you as family lawyer that it's not

our normal practice to make our guests walk.

But it seems the engine on the branch line broke down near Carlisle.

Your charges, Marion and Laura, naturally retired.

And your employer, Mr. Fairley, is a man of idiosyncratic nature.

He keeps to his own apartments.

To be frank, I was a little concerned about his failure to arrange a proper chaperone.

I should not worry yourself, Mr. Gilmore.

I am told my situation in life acts as a guarantee of its own.

My last employer even compared my presence under

his roof to that of a harmless domestic animal.

Mr. Fairley.

I am Mr. Hartright.

Mr. Hartright, sit down, slowly, without troubling

yourself to move the chair or other objects.

In the wretched state of my nerves, movement

of any kind is exquisitely painful to me.

So glad to possess you at Limeridge.

You have seen your studio.

Will it do?

Will it do?

I can assure you... No, Mr. Hartright, a lower key, please.

You see, loud sound is torture to me.

You will pardon an invalid, I am sure, if the

lamentable state of my health dictates a certain code.

But at least you will find your position here as artist and

teacher to my niece's properly recognized, Mr. Hartright.

There is in this house none of the horrid barbarity of the

local gentry who would treat artists as their servants.

Now, would you put this tray of coins back in the cabinet?

And then go and take down that portfolio.

Are you strong enough?

Yes?

How nice to be so strong.

Don't drop it!

You have no idea of the tortures I should suffer,

Mr. Hartright, if you dropped this portfolio.

Now, before I continue, have you anything to ask me?

Just the question of my employment here?

You mind my closing my eyes while you speak?

I find it much easier.

Yes?

The tuition of the two young ladies?

Oh, that.

I wish I felt strong enough to go into that, but I don't.

My nieces, who profit by your kind services,

Mr. Hartright, must settle and agree on your wishes.

Provided you deal with the more suitable subjects, the

basic principles of landscape, fritz, bansia, and so forth.

Mr. Hartright,

I am sorry if you caught me observing your arrival.

My sister and I are so fond of Gothic novels

that we sometimes act as if we were in them.

You would certainly seem to have the perfect setting for your pretence.

My uncle is not the easiest of men to encounter on breakfast, is he?

I am sorry.

No, no, he was perfectly courteous.

Will your sister be joining us?

No.

She thought it best that I make your acquaintance first.

I will not disguise from you, Mr. Hartright,

that we are a little unused to male company.

That is common enough in my pupils, Miss Fairleigh.

But can I hope even so that you and your sister will agree on a course of study?

Agree.

I will tell you about Laura myself.

You will notice presently that we are not alike.

Having different mothers, it is not surprising, but it goes further.

She is quiet and I talk.

She inherited great wealth through her mother while I am poor.

She is sweet-tempered and I am crabbed.

And she has a high opinion of men while I...

To speak plainly, Mr. Hartright, she is an angel and I...

Well, perhaps you had better pass the marmalade and finish the sentence for yourself.

Only by saying that you seem to require separate tutors.

Separate?

No.

Laura and I may have nothing in common, but we

will not be separated and we agree on everything.

You must please both of us, Mr. Hartright, or please neither of us.

It is unaccountable, but there it is.

And I am sure we can agree on whatever course of study you propose.

Laura.

Miss Fairleigh.

Forgive me.

Just for one moment you reminded me of someone I met on the road last night.

But I see now it is only a resemblance, nothing more.

But who was it, Mr. Hartright?

I do not know.

She was dressed all in white.

A ghost, perhaps?

Yes.

Let us make a start.

It is my intention to begin with the most

basic principles of still life and landscape.

I am sure you are acquainted with the work of Lancia.

But Marion, we do not yet know him.

What is there to know, Laura?

Mr. Hartright's lessons are as cautious as his manner and he is so uninterested in us.

I sometimes think he is half asleep.

You are too harsh on men.

But if only father was here now, he could have helped us with so much.

You know, Percival has not written.

Perhaps he has changed his mind.

Laura, he wrote two days ago.

It is less than a week since the lunch.

Why in heaven should you worry?

You say that.

Why not?

Marion, I know.

For weeks now you have had some... I cannot say, some concern about the future.

Why deny it?

Laura, I have no worries and nor should you.

A change is coming and I am a coward about change.

That is all.

Mr. Hartright, you are still working.

But this is my uncle's collection.

What has he asked you to do?

Some repairs.

He wants them completed by tomorrow.

Tomorrow?

But there was months of work here.

He had no right to ask you.

Will you accept an apology not merely on behalf of my uncle but ourselves?

The truth is we thought you quite circumspect.

When a man has urgent need of a job, Miss Fairleigh, I fear he generally is.

But what are those?

Oh, just some materials I was using for mounts.

Rosetti?

Whistler?

Yes, these are copies I made.

This was Rosetti's wife, wasn't it?

Elizabeth.

He did it after her death.

Look at the line of the face.

So much longing.

Did you know he dug up her grave?

Yes.

Where he had buried his poems.

This picture always haunted me.

Such a terrible feeling of loss.

No!

It is the same woman I saw.

I will go down.

And then there was no sign of her.

It was right here.

But it was not a ghost.

It was a woman.

Mr Gilmour said she must be from the village.

Who?

I would love to know.

If we could just have seen her more clearly.

Well, there is one way.

Do not move.

Stand still.

Yes, indeed, there is some resemblance, especially in the colouring.

Miss Fairleigh, if you will, just let your arms hang.

I cannot.

No.

Just so.

If you relax, you are an excellent subject.

Miss Fairleigh, perhaps if I make some sketches of

your sister, I might be able to show you how it was.

Assuming your model is happy?

Yes.

Marion, I would love to try.

So tell me, Mr Hartright, how do your society subjects stay still?

Oh, I help them along with generous portions of compliments.

Well, I hope Mr Hartright will pay me no compliments.

Why do you say that?

Because I know I will believe all you say to me.

Oh, there are too many bumps.

Indeed.

And with all this jolting and interruption, we can confuse

Mr Hartright between nature as it is when he looks up.

And nature as it is not when he looks at our work.

What will you do?

What I know is right.

Before Mr Hartright came, I was so sure of my feelings.

Where would I be if I changed now?

Mr Hartright, because we greatly value your friendship, I freely admit I do not

like what I have to say.

But I think I have discovered your secret.

The truth is, if some attachment has been formed to Laura,

then it is my duty to tell you now that it can go no further.

My sister is engaged.

Willingly and happily to be married.

Indeed, her fiancée is expected any day.

I see we should have told you before.

We are unused to these things and we had no thought then of what would happen.

It is fairly.

It was in any case madness for a tutor to entertain such hopes.

And I gratefully accept the offer of friendship.

In my defense, I can only swear it is the first time

a personal sympathy ever encroached in my teaching.

I cannot get the shape of the church.

I would love to have a good likeness of this place.

It is very dear to us.

Then I would like to draw it.

Whose is the grave?

Our father's.

Oh, Marion, I must get ready.

May I finish our lesson for today, Mr Hartright?

I can walk back.

Her fiancée?

Yes.

He lives nearby?

No, he comes from the south.

Sir Percival's family were friends of my

father who approved the match before he died.

As I do.

Of course.

However, we did speak of your secret, Mr Hartright.

And now I will tell you mine.

Have you ever had the uncanny feeling when you go into a room, or meet a person,

or see a picture that is perfect in every way, and yet you know something is wrong?

A kind of premonition, you mean?

Yes.

It is no more rational than that.

And it concerns Laura.

Yet Sir Percival is good-looking, wealthy, and shows every sign of being in love.

Believe me, I have put him to every test and I cannot find fault with him.

But is it not natural you should feel some apprehension?

You and your sister are very close, and your living relatives are distant.

Mr Hartright, if I had any doubts you would put your own

feelings aside to help me, you have just dispelled them.

Your tea, Sir Percival.

I must forgive you, Miss Ferry, I quite forgot myself.

It is so many weeks since I last heard a play.

Not so many.

Four weeks, two days, and six hours.

It was at a lunch party in this very room.

Mr Hartright, if I may say so, Limeridge is indeed fortunate to find you as a tutor.

I had the great good luck to see some of your

drawings at Burlington House last summer.

It is a wonder to me you do not exhibit more often.

You are very kind, but I fear it will be some

months before I have suitable work to show.

Well, I hope after Laura and I are married you will reward us by coming to stay at

Blackwater on occasions and continuing the tuition.

As you may know, it is my great wish that

Miss Ferry here will make our home her home.

I may be a fool, Mr Hartright, but thank heaven I am

not fool enough to try and separate the inseparable.

Miss Ferry, I am sorry if I startled you.

I love this spot.

Yes, it has memories.

Our father used to come here.

He taught us to throw stones.

I am probably better at it than drawing.

Then will you take this one?

A blue stone.

I have heard that is lucky.

So I am glad to give it to you.

You know we should not be here alone.

Please.

In a few weeks I will be married, Mr Hartright,

but I want you to understand one thing.

I will never forget this summer, the days we have

had together, the time I have spent with you.

Wherever you go, whatever you do, I want to wish you happiness.

Then no matter if it is wrong, I will think of you.

I will keep this memory.

For God's sake, please go.

The matter is of some delicacy, Mr Ferry, and you would oblige me by

giving that man permission to withdraw.

Man?

What man?

You provoking Earl Gilmore, what can you possibly mean by calling him a man?

He is nothing of the sort.

At present he is simply a portfolio stand.

Why object Gilmore to a portfolio stand?

Well, I do object.

It is important.

Sir Percival has just left, and I want to discuss Laura's marriage settlement.

Oh, a settlement.

The terms demanded by his lawyers seem to me to be excessive.

There is, after all, a considerable fortune involved.

Good Gilmore, how you reconcile one to human nature.

But what exactly do you propose?

That either we resist their demand, or at the very least, before we sign,

make Laura and Marion acquainted with it.

Make them acquainted?

Gilmore, in such a miserable world as this, is it

possible to overestimate the value of peace and quietness?

No, and yet you would upset me, upset yourself, upset Glide, upset Laura,

and worst of all, upset Marion.

And all for a trifling nothing.

His lawyers have no right to demand these clauses, and it seems to me is that

they're anxious to settle before she comes of age.

If you stand firm, they must give way.

You dear old Gilmore, how you detest Glide for being a baronet.

What a radical you are.

Oh dear me, what a radical.

Mr Fairlie, I will put up with a good deal of your provocation, but after holding the

soundest conservative principle to all my life, and serving three generations of

Fairlie's, I will not put up with being called a radical, and I have to tell you

that no daughter of mine should be married under such a settlement.

Don't shake the room, worthiest of all possible Gilmores.

Do not shake the room.

I would dispute this remote contingency with you if I could, but I can't.

I haven't stamina enough.

Shall we drop the subject?

That's a good Gilmore.

You hold by this then?

So glad we understand each other at last.

Make them give you a good lunch downstairs.

Do, Gilmore, make my idle beasts of servants give you a good lunch.

Do you want some, sir?

Do you want some?

Do you not remember me?

There's Glide here.

What?

I saw his carriage.

What is supercible to you?

I want to help you, not hurt you.

What brings you here?

A man was once kind to me here.

This man and his wife, better than all the others.

Glide put me in the cold asylum, sir, to the cold stone and the baths.

They scream in the baths.

I was wrongfully treated.

You must warn them here.

I will never go back there.

Warn them of what?

I want nothing except to help you.

Please to help me.

And then they pull at you with their lips.

Still those coins and those burst lips.

Please.

Please.

I mean you no harm.

We will not jump to hasty conclusions on either side.

I will provide for the tracing of this woman,

whoever she is, with a private investigator.

I have been in touch with supercible solicitor.

And when supercible returns on Monday, I expect a satisfactory explanation.

And I have no doubt we will get one.

I'm mightily glad, Mr. Hartrack, that you met with Anne Catherick.

But I was most interested to hear that she was at Limeridge Church.

It is my urgent wish that she is found without delay.

Have you known her long?

Yes.

Her mother, one of our more faithful retainers of Blackwater, was doubly

unfortunate in having a husband who deserted her and a

daughter whose mental faculties were disturbed at an early age.

In time, the poor girl's symptoms made it necessary for her to have medical care.

But Mrs. Catherick did not want Anne to go to a public asylum.

She appealed to me to meet the expense of a good private asylum, which, in mark of

her services to our family, I was happy to do.

Kitson, a Harley Street specialist, was put in charge of her case.

And did she improve?

No, she did not.

And as her condition worsened, she developed a confused hatred for

everyone involved in her treatment, including, I'm afraid, her mother and me.

So I hope she's returned to proper medical attention as soon as possible.

I have to leave again tomorrow, but I will watch for her tonight from the church.

We must all hope the poor girl is found.

And I will communicate all you have said to Laura's uncle and guardian.

I imagine that ends the matter.

No, it does not.

If my plain statement of legal fact had only been addressed to you, Mr. Gilmore,

and to you, Mr. Hartright, then I should consider any

further reference to this unhappy matter as unnecessary.

But, Miss Fairleigh, my position with the lady is not the same.

I hope, Sir Percival, you do not suppose I distrust you.

No.

But I owe to you what I would concede to no man alive.

Proof of what I say.

Here is the address and name of Anne's mother.

May I insist you write at once to ask anything you wish.

And ensure that she confirms my account.

Sir Percival watched all night here, but he saw no sign of her.

Why watch from here?

You cannot even see the grave.

Did you find his account convincing?

More than I thought possible.

But I would give anything to talk with Anne Catherick.

Then we must keep looking.

I think I will start making moonlight sketches around the estate.

There is a chance I may see her.

Begging you pardon, Miss.

Yes, Margaret.

I wonder if I might ask you something.

Of course.

What is it?

I did not know whether to trouble you, Miss.

It may be nothing at all, but I was not sure.

If something is worrying you, I will help in any way I can.

It is Mr. Hartright.

Mr. Hartright?

What about him?

Well, you see, it was getting late and I saw he was there down by the summer house.

And it is just I was not sure what he was doing, whether he needed anything.

Oh, I see.

No, Margaret.

He wants to sketch various parts of the estate in moonlight.

So please just do what he wants to accommodate that.

I am very keen to see the results.

Oh, yes, Miss.

That is all right, then.

Thank you, Miss.

Just it seemed rather late.

Yes.

But I am happy to go there at ten if it helps him.

Thank you, Miss.

To go there?

Please, Miss.

Please.

He tried to make me undress.

What?

Miss Fairleigh!

Miss Fairleigh, please.

I can explain.

Please, listen.

Get her inside.

Well, as you both know, I was always concerned about the absence of a proper

chaperone in your arrangements here.

Fortunately, Mr. Hartright is leaving in a few hours.

But there is always this servant to consider.

Sir Percival has already offered the servant concerned a position at Blackwater Park.

So the change of scene should help her.

And please don't forget, Mr. Gilmer, it was Marion who saved her.

Well, this is true.

And provided both of you accept that you were completely

duped by this young man, I suggest we let the matter rest.

I accept that we were deceived.

I do not accept that I was wrong to take every means at my disposal to find Anne

Catherick.

Her mother has now written to me.

Evidently, all that Sir Percival said is true to the letter.

Miss Fairleigh, I will be gone in a few minutes.

Please grant me one moment of your time.

If I am found with you, I will be punished.

There is nothing to say.

I say nothing for myself but the circumstances in which I was disgraced.

Leave me to suppose you and your sister are in very great danger.

I beg you to take heed of that danger.

Mr. Hartright's disgrace was such painful proof of our own

inexperience that I begged Laurie to forget all my doubts.

It had been agreed I would join her as soon as the honeymoon was over.

And how strange it seems now to think that I travelled that long road in hope.

Where's the housekeeper?

This dog's been hurt.

That's Baxter's doings, that is.

Baxter?

Who is Baxter?

Well, he bless you, Miss.

Baxter's the keeper.

And when he finds strange dogs, he takes and shoots them.

That's Baxter's doings, Miss.

Very lucky dog, Miss Fairleigh.

Thank goodness you saved him from that brute Baxter.

I'll see someone takes him back to Mrs. Catherick.

She will be grateful to you.

Mrs. Catherick?

Yes, Miss Fairleigh.

Oh, do you know her?

No, it is just I've heard of her poor daughter.

Oh, yes.

Well, the woman was round here looking for her

daughter who's been seen around the grounds.

Here?

Yes.

If Mrs. Catherick could just find her, she would get her to medical help.

But why can't she be found?

Oh, because there are those who don't want her to be found.

Begging your pardon, Miss, but you know how she makes a living now.

And it's always the men who see her.

Have you noticed that?

I'm so sorry, Miss.

Am I talking too much?

And they must be here already.

You'll be wanting to see your sister.

How long it seems.

Marianne, I'm sorry.

I'm tired from the journey.

Will you excuse me?

Miss Fairleigh.

I must apologize.

Laura's a little tired, but how nice to find you awaiting us.

I regret to say it seems we have a guest arriving later

in the week, some wretched cousin whom I barely know.

Still, he will only be here a short time.

Will you excuse me?

I must apologize.

Laura insisted on dining in her room.

She's still a little tired.

Now, talk to me about art or music.

Is it true your uncle has the most wonderful Rembrandt etchings?

Yes.

My uncle is very proud of his collection.

Matters have reached a head, and the situation may become serious.

We must address ourselves quickly.

What if I can obtain the signature to the papers?

That will resolve the question.

We can then proceed to clear the outstanding bills as they become few.

Sir Percival, I wonder if I might have a word with you regarding something.

Miss Fairleigh, of course.

I have been here four days now.

If she does not want me to be here, then I can leave.

But I cannot understand why she will not talk to me.

I cannot wholly understand it myself.

I have kept expecting her to change, but I fear the

moods of women are sometimes unaccountable to me.

You have her messages.

She makes excuses.

She has business.

She is tired.

Once I pass her, she talks for a few moments and then goes on.

If I have done something to offend her, then I will be duly sorry, but I must

first know what it is.

Believe me, Miss Fairleigh, you have done nothing to offend her.

I am sure of that.

You must simply give her time.

I have given her time.

And if, as you say, I have done nothing wrong,

then I must leave and return to my uncle.

Because it is clear she does not want me.

Perhaps you would be kind enough to inform the servants to prepare for my departure.

I have every hope she might change, and I will

try again to prevail upon her to be more civil.

Please, stay longer.

No, you have been kind, but I cannot impose myself if she does not wish me to be here.

Marion, do not leave here.

Oh dear God, do not leave.

Laura, oh Laura, it was a bad dream.

Why would you not talk?

What is this?

It was a fall.

I must go back now, but tomorrow, we will talk tomorrow.

I am so sorry.

Laura, you must tell me.

Whatever the matter is, you must tell me.

I beg you.

When we were in Italy, we went to see a wonderful

tomb that her husband had built for his wife.

She was called Cecilia, Cecilia Mattella.

It was a bright afternoon.

I asked Percival if he would ever build something like it for me.

His reply was that if he did, it would be with my own money.

It was a joke, Laura.

What of it?

I am sure the marriage settlement must provide for him to inherit.

At least in the event that there are no children.

And Marion, I do not want children.

Not the way he touches me when he... Tell me.

I never knew men could enjoy the act, even in hatred.

Why does he hate me?

Is it because I have done something?

You have done nothing.

And you must never think of yourself in this way.

Then I can only tell you what I believe.

He wants my money and I am sure he is prepared to do anything to get it.

Come on, we must go back.

Laura,

you cannot be sure.

Perhaps if you would talk to him.

I have tried.

Sometimes I have seen sadness, but...

Now I keep remembering the warning of that woman, the poor woman in white.

You may yet meet her.

She is here.

Where?

Have you seen her?

Cut this out, my lady!

One of the dogs was brought with nothing dangerous!

Keep still!

Don't run!

We are sent for the keeper!

Ladies, keep quite still, please!

He flies at everyone!

He does that because everyone is afraid of him.

Let us see if he flies at me.

The dog is barking!

Miss Fairly, Lady Glyde, yes?

I would beg your very great forgiveness.

In my haste I neglected to make my introductions.

I am Count Isidore or Octavio Fosco, once through my parents of Siena, now of Paris.

Arriving for only the second time in my life to

pay tribute to my cousin and his beautiful home.

I must admit that my early life was spent like anyone else's, in innocent folly.

I ruled the fashions of a second-rate Italian town and

wrote preposterous romances for a third-rate newspaper.

Then I studied law, finance and chemistry in that order.

Laura, I have something here for you to sign.

This is a formality, but we may as well do it now,

so I can get the boy to take it down to the train.

The Count and Miss Fairly can be witnesses, if they don't mind.

What is it I am to sign?

I would tell you, but we are short of time and I doubt you would understand it.

I ask you to let me try.

When Mr Gilmore had any business, he always explained it.

I dare say, but you see, he was your servant and was obliged to do so.

I am your husband and I am in a hurry.

It is just if my signature pledges me to... You are not refusing me, surely?

No.

Then I will be glad if you proceed to sign it at once.

Sir Percival, perhaps I may explain Laura's objections.

Miss Fairly, I hope very much you can continue to be our guest, but it could

obviously become difficult if you choose to interfere in our affairs.

It is just...

Pardon me for one moment, Sir Percival, and please believe that I speak with respect.

What that document that Lady Gleide is about to sign may be, I neither know nor

desire to know, but I feel uneasy about witnessing any signature at all without a

full and fair understanding by the signatory.

You take my wife, sir?

I take the side of my poor European conscience, which is different,

and by all means set me down as being no better than the rest of my kind.

I will see if my lawyer can find some way around it.

Now, I really must get the rest of these papers off.

Without you in the county would have made me sign it.

Please, Marion, give him no excuse to make you leave.

I will never leave without you.

But, Laura, you must now tell me what you fear.

Many things.

Poison, a fall, a boating accident in the lake.

He wants me dead, Marion.

If what you are saying is true, there are laws.

Laws cannot prevent evil.

They may only avenge it.

I have no evidence against my husband, except that he is cruel.

What is that?

So are half the men in England.

I want to see.

Please.

Never again.

I don't care if you kill him.

You will not let him near you.

From this moment on, I swear our endurance ends.

What are you talking about?

What can we do?

We can fight.

I have no means of proving my suspicions, Mr. Gilmore.

Anymore than I can prove the burned document forms

some part of a plot to taint my sister's money.

I know my uncle will not countenance a scandal.

But I beg you to ask him whether there is some

way Laura and I could return alone to Limeridge.

At least for a prolonged visit.

Who are you?

You are not Lady Glide, are you?

No.

No, Anne.

I am not.

I am her half-sister.

What?

They use you, Miss, do they?

Anne, I could help you to see Lady Glide.

Would you like me to help you?

I don't need help.

I am not going back there to the asylum.

No.

I won't take you back there.

But we can help.

You want to see Lady Glide?

To tell her the danger.

It's not safe here, Miss.

Never, never marry, Miss.

I travel free.

I choose.

Can you choose, Miss?

What is the danger?

Where can we find you?

After dusk.

Tomorrow.

The boathouse.

You must tell no one else.

The secret frightens him.

I promise.

But what secret?

Anne!

If she will be here tonight, we must bring her food and clothing.

I will look out for some of my own.

She had such sadness.

She is free.

But at what cost, Laura?

Does it matter, Marion?

At least she can move on from those who abuse her.

And so can you.

My letter was in the post this morning.

By tomorrow it will be with Gilmore, and he must act.

And the Count helped us before.

He will again.

I'm surprised you ladies wanted to visit this place.

Especially in this stifling weather.

Some may call it picturesque.

I call it a blot on a gentleman's property.

A bailiff says it has a curse on it.

A good place to commit murder, maybe.

Not much else.

Why?

You know exactly what I mean if you choose to understand me.

If you don't, I shall not bother myself to explain.

But why not, Sir Percival?

When your meaning can be explained by anyone in two words.

If a fool is going to commit a murder, your lake is the first place he would choose.

A wise man might look elsewhere.

Baxter, what does he want?

He keeps leaving messages for me.

Count Fosker, if you must divide murderers into classes, I

think you have been unfortunate in your choice of expressions.

To describe a murderer as a wise man seems to me an abuse of language.

Truly wise men are truly good men, and have therefore a horror of crime.

My dear lady, these are admirable sentiments, and

I have seen them stated on the tops of copybooks.

But surely you admit, Count, that murder will out.

I mean, crimes provide their own detection.

Miss Fairlip, because you of all women appear to appreciate the truth,

I shall tell you it.

One has but to ask the coroners who sit at inquests in large towns, or the poor

secretaries of life assurance companies, when the

criminal is a resolute and highly intelligent man.

I am afraid the police, in nine cases out of ten, lose.

Miss Fairlip, why did you not tell me Anne Catherick's mother was here?

What?

I gather you found her dog here.

Why, the devil didn't you tell me?

Laura, Laura, have you had dealings with Anne Catherick?

Gently, my good friend.

I want to know.

I beg your pardon, Miss Fairlip.

Truth is, I've been a little out of sorts today, but I would

like to know if you've had news of Anne from her mother.

No.

The housekeeper merely told me she was looking for her daughter.

I hope she has been found.

So it seems Anne Catherick may have been here.

Our friend, Mr. Hartright, was so concerned about Anne.

Tell me, was he a good companion?

It seems a long time ago.

How did he spend your time?

Did you read with him?

Read?

Yes.

I have no knowledge of what you did together.

Reading verse?

Or discoursing?

There is no end to my imaginings.

I do not understand.

No, not why.

I never have.

Pure ramblings.

I must dress for dinner.

Oh, Miss Fairleigh, see the light dying in the trees.

Do not break the heart.

Ah, but Count, the heart will surely mend by morning.

You have your English sense, Miss Fairleigh, but you cannot deny what is so

striking, that you feel things very deeply.

I would not deny it.

And yes, the light is beautiful.

And as your poet says, truth is beauty.

See, your face shows as much now.

So, you study poetry as well as crime, Count.

But I wish to know, is your study of detection an amateur interest only?

To be truthful?

No.

But then I have dabbled in many things, including the science of character.

And I see that your sister is very fortunate to have you as an ally.

I have never met anyone like you.

Then I must be honest with you.

At this moment, we are in need of as many friends as we can find.

And I will tell you why.

I truly think he is some kind of detective,

a specialist, and he says he will help us.

She is coming.

Where is she?

Suppose we are seen here.

Who will see us?

You are quite sure we are not followed?

I am certain of it.

I am not alone.

It is all right, Anne.

There is no one here but us.

Look, we have food and clothing for you.

Lady Glide's things will fit you.

My lady, I have your word.

You are alone.

You have my word.

I have only kept out of their sight by moving from

village to town, staying in woods and ditches.

No one will listen.

You are the only ones who might believe.

There is a secret.

You would destroy him.

What is it?

It is hidden.

I was sure I heard a noise.

Get her!

No!

Stop!

Please!

Please!

Stop!

Please!

Stop!

All right, Baxter.

Get her up.

Poor woman, it is up to you.

This is an end.

We will confine her until an asylum can be found.

Head up.

I curse you, Lady Glide, my betrayer!

May your body twist and fall from the highest tower of Blackwater Park!

And I did it!

I didn't let him know!

Move it!

What is this?

Come on!

Well, as I just said, it is poor Anne's.

She is in need of clothes.

Oh, and there is excellent news.

A good Count has agreed to stay on.

There are several more weeks, I hope.

So the Count is no cousin.

Yes, he is a specialist.

God knows what he was hired to do in this house.

But the signature, he helped us.

No, he knew I would not let you sign, so he pretended to be our ally.

Like a stupid girl flattered by his attention, I led him straight to Anne.

So what will they do?

We will not wait to see.

We are leaving.

And, Laura, for all his talk, I am sure the Count is more dangerous than any of them.

Never let him see what we feel.

Well, you are traveling, aren't you?

Mrs. Ridout?

Mrs. Ridout?

Mrs. Ridout?

I need your help again to send a telegram.

Margaret?

Where is Mrs. Ridout?

She is gone, Miss.

Gone where?

She is left.

You see, I am to be housekeeper.

You?

The other servants have had their notice.

The last of them are off now.

Apart from Liza here.

You mean it is just Liza and you?

Oh, yes, Miss.

Sir Percival has been very kind after what happened with Mr. Hartright.

Margaret Porter is on their side.

She is housekeeper to him now.

She is more than that to him.

I doubt I can do better.

Ladies, may I present to you my dear wife who has just now joined our company.

Can I say how pleased I am to be at the party?

They are clearing the house.

Yes, it is happening just as Walter Hartright warned.

He begged me to believe him and I just turned away, but I see it so clearly now.

He was innocent, Marion.

They made him their victim.

We will leave as soon as it is dark.

The station is half an hour's walk.

If we catch the late train, we are safe.

Take what you can.

I will join you on the lawn after dinner.

Beg pardon, sir.

How can you get through so much cream, Posko?

A taste for sweets is the innocent taste of women and children.

I love to share it with them.

Another bond, dear ladies, between you and me.

No, this weather is impossible.

It must break soon.

It will break, I have told you.

Soon now.

By the way, there have been reports of poachers in the park with guns.

Back to a standing guard, but I consider it highly dangerous.

None of you should be in the grounds tonight.

You understand?

I take it the garden is safe?

Yes, provided you stay in it and do not venture out.

Miss Fairleigh, I must appeal to you on a question of the greatest importance.

Indeed, you might say that the honor of my country is at stake, unless you have some

more pressing business, in which case I could accompany you.

You see, the English were always reviling the Italians for their music.

I am sorry, I know nothing of music.

But I am sure they forgot Rossini.

As a very great personal favor to me, might I ask you to listen to this and say

if anything more sublime has been composed.

I have no wish to interrupt the count, but I am

feeling a little faint and I must get some air.

The count would not let me go.

We must be quick or the train will leave.

But the poachers and guns... There are none, that was just to scare us.

I hope we never see it again.

The road cannot be far now.

I think I can see it just a short...

Wake up!

Get up!

It was Baxter, there were no poachers.

He knew who we were, but he still shot.

What would they call it?

An accident!

At first light we will go to the stables.

I will tell the green that Sir Percival requires him

urgently and then we can take the cart ourselves.

But lock your doors tonight.

Stay with me.

No, I must know what they are doing.

What's the latter count?

Why don't you come and sit down?

Because they want to check the rooms on either side of here.

Miss Fairleigh is sharp enough to come down and listen.

She is an extraordinary woman.

You seem quite besotted with Miss Fairleigh.

Yes?

Well, we are on the edge of our precipice.

And let me tell you, Sir Percival...

If you give these women one more chance, they will push you over it.

Come in and sit down.

You are as restless as a cat.

Have some brandy and water.

You know how careful we must be.

Cold water with pleasure, the spoon, basin of sugar.

Both you crave, my friend, a wonderful drink.

A sickly mess, you mean.

You foreigners are all alike.

It is here, at last, the rain that washes away our sins.

So, Sir Percival, how would you treat a woman who opposes you?

Knock her down.

Yes, that is one inferior route, chosen by the lower orders.

It is a superior way to deny all their suspicions.

And never, under any circumstances, to accept the provocation at their hands.

Yet despite all my warning and entreaties, you keep

forgetting this crucial fact with your wife's sister.

Now, you hired me as a specialist.

Are you going to stand in the rain all night?

So, as a specialist, I tell you, Sir Percival, in this sweet rain,

that there are limits even to the male prejudices of your good country.

We cannot keep these women here indefinitely.

Horseman, where are you leading?

I saw that your wife's sister would lose us the signature to the deed.

I turned that to our advantage and secured Anne Catherine.

But without the signature, we are having to do something

infinitely more complicated and infinitely more dangerous.

Are you ready for that?

Of course.

How?

Death's mount.

And there is danger, too.

Anne almost told the women of the will my father made at the end.

And I still cannot find where she has hidden it.

And the will would disinherit you.

Why?

You have hinted at something worse.

It will never be disclosed.

Now, come to the point.

I would have acted earlier and more crudely against my wife.

You restrained me.

But time is running out, so I say to you again, how?

I will tell you how.

First, we must separate the women from breakfast.

Do you understand that, Percival?

We must separate them tomorrow at breakfast.

Then I, Fosco, will resort to that most comfortable way.

Light!

Bring a light!

Someone is out there!

Then we will find them.

Tomorrow at breakfast.

Tomorrow at breakfast.

Tomorrow at...

Tomorrow at breakfast.

Tomorrow at breakfast.

Tomorrow at breakfast.

Tomorrow at breakfast.

Tomorrow at breakfast.

At breakfast.

A door must go to a door.

No breakfast.

Not a breakfast with the chemist.

Laura must see Laura.

Only a dream.

Dear God, only a dream.

But this is not my room.

Why have I been moved?

You've been in a fever, Marion.

The doctors moved you simply for the risk of infection.

Mr. Gilmour, thank heavens you've come.

Of course I came.

I wanted to be sure I was the one who saw you first.

Why?

Where's Laura?

They had to break open the door to get help to you.

But the doctors say you are stronger now and...

I have to ask you to be brave, Marion.

There is bad news.

You were told about it before, evidently, but nobody knew how much you'd taken in.

Told what?

There's been an accident.

Laura is dead.

She fell from the tower.

They have killed her, then!

Please, Marion, you are still not strong.

You don't understand.

I know what happened.

I heard them plotting.

Clyde and Fosco drugged and killed her.

Clyde had no hand in her death.

Laura's mind had been turned by Anne Catherick's prophecy.

There are witnesses.

Who?

A respectable doctor who I know and who was tending you in your fever.

He was with Clyde and Fosco when she fell.

It makes no difference.

Lyza and Margaret Portia would have done it.

Clyde used Margaret against heart right.

He has paid her to kill Laura.

This is madness, Marion!

Who else would you have involved?

The groom, the stable boy, the doctor himself?

There is not the slightest proof of any of

these accusations and I will not hear of it.

Do you understand?

But they were all in league against us.

There is some secret hidden.

A will that would disinherit Sir Percival.

I shall not listen to this, Marion.

Clyde would have the perfect right to take legal action against you.

Please.

Come.

For Laura's sake.

From her soul.

It was for Laura's soul.

I would not go to the funeral.

I said I was ill.

And weeks had passed before I could bear to see her grave.

I promised Laura.

Whatever it takes.

And so I left Limeridge.

Seen of all my happiest memories.

As readily as one leaves a scorched desert.

And with only one thought in my heart.

The promise I had made at her graveside.

I set out on a new life.

As I say, the Fosco's sent word they are happy for you to join them.

But I cannot understand why you'd wish to go.

I have probably misjudged them.

And I feel the change of scene will do me good.

Did you find news of Anne Catharick?

As we thought she was in a private asylum.

But it's impossible to discover where.

Mrs Catharick has gone abroad.

So there's no more I can do.

My dear Miss Fairbaird.

Naturally I offer you my deepest sympathies.

We are beguiled that you have elected to join us.

Was the hotel to your liking?

Very much so.

Now shall we start the tour, Kent?

I've always longed to see the museum.

What gifts there left for the dead.

I don't know.

Do you believe in ghosts, Miss Fairbaird?

If I do, Count.

We talk in the most haunted room in England.

It is so long since we last talked together.

I still remember that wonderful twilight.

This room is not to my taste, Count.

I shall move on to the treasures.

Of course, my Andrew.

I remember the twilight.

And I have often reflected since that you were right.

Right?

The heart does not mend by morning.

Now I think I will take your carriage back if you have no objection.

I feel a little tired.

I have no wish to interrupt Madame Fosco's tour.

Of course.

The carriage will take you safely back to the hotel.

I look forward to talking to you further over dinner.

I am Miss Fairleigh with Count Fosco's party.

They are out for the day.

But it appears an item of my wardrobe was sent to his suite by mistake.

I wish to collect it.

Room 11, Miss.

Thank you.

Miss Fairleigh?

I am sorry.

My cape was separated from my luggage.

And it seems the porter brought it here by mistake.

Ah, but you have retrieved it.

Good.

Well, I followed your example.

The museum was too exhausting.

And now you are here.

Will you have some refreshment with me?

For a few moments at least.

I think we are all in need of some refreshment.

No?

See, Miss Fairleigh, my mice have not eaten for a little while.

They are deprived of their food.

And since they know no other morality, food is their only notion of virtue.

A good notion of virtue too, says Fosco.

But I am a bad man who says what others only think.

And what is your notion of virtue, Miss Fairleigh?

I suppose the same as my notion of goodness.

Excellent, Miss Fairleigh, excellent.

Here is my notion of goodness.

Tincture of Lordenham.

Many find it helps their disposition.

And since your notion of goodness evidently embraces lying, stealing keys,

ransacking people's rooms and destroying their property in search of evidence

against them, I am sure it can extend to include

Lordenham, which is what you were looking for.

Yes, as I thought this woman here was attempting

to steal from me, she stinks of Lordenham.

Collect her things and throw her out.

Stop!

See,

Miss Fairleigh, attack me and I must defend myself.

I fear that once your uncle hears of this, you will be an outcast, liar, thief,

betrayer of hospitality, degenerate.

You think I care?

I only want to do you and your kind harm.

And I will commit any crime to achieve it.

Oh, corruption, when once it begins, is a wonderful thing, is it not?

This is just the beginning, Miss Fairleigh, but there is no going back.

I feel nothing but the affinity of master for pupil.

You not only caused a scandal, you also made wild accusations,

which may well prompt legal action.

Your uncle is severely angry and disturbed

and will now not have you back at Limeridge.

In the circumstances, I have persuaded him to make available a small allowance,

enough for London rooms, but only on one condition, that you go nowhere near

Limeridge, not even the church.

But why?

Am I not to be allowed to visit my own sister's grave?

I am sorry, Marion, but I must have your undertaking.

The alternative is destitution.

Go on!

How much?

He's outside.

Sorry, better off.

Give me!

Your offer for a portrait is generous, but this setting is hardly appropriate.

Why not commission an artist of your own station?

Because, Mr. Hartright, I wish to see you.

Go, please, Miss Fairleigh.

There is nothing here for you.

Mr. Hartright, I know you were wronged.

I've paid a lawyer to trace you.

I am aware that you were... I am changed, Miss Fairleigh.

Whatever was is no more.

Now, I must escort you to a cab.

You should not be here.

So you will not help me?

The subject is closed.

Very well, Mr. Hartright.

I need someone to help me, and I'm prepared to achieve that.

I have changed, too.

We have all had to change, have we not?

You are not the only one who has suffered, and I will do anything to get help.

You have refused.

Perhaps one of these men will oblige me.

What?

Enough!

I will talk to you, someone else.

We have the power to avenge her, not to let anyone forget.

Forget?

I think of her every moment, of every hour.

Yes, I would love to forget how I failed her.

You had no choice!

So I told myself when I left you that the criminals

would be caught and she would seek me out.

What a miserable lie!

I slunk away from the one I loved and I let her die.

No, you did not.

I remember how you fought back, even after they crushed you.

Laura remembered, too.

She spoke of it often at the end.

I'm as guilty as you are.

I counseled her to forget you.

If you are right, they planned it perfectly.

You will find no evidence against these men.

The laudanum you saw proves nothing.

But do not see.

They used it.

Once she was weak, Margaret Porcher and Liza could force her to the tower.

I cannot act alone.

As a woman, it is hard enough to travel alone.

But I do have a little money.

Will you help me?

Yes.

I will do anything.

Where can we begin?

Perhaps with the women.

They cannot be hard to trace.

If we work together as equals, we can hurt those who hurt us.

You are changed.

You know what people will think.

Let them think what they like.

We cannot go back to such scruples.

They took everything we had.

But we are free.

I want to use that against them.

Tell your mistress that Miss Fairleigh is here.

With a message from Sir Percival Glide.

Yes, Miss.

I saw you from the window.

What did you want?

Is there someone with you?

Yes, I have someone with me, Margaret.

Perhaps you recall him.

Hello, Margaret.

Why?

Why have you brought him?

I bring him because I know you accused him falsely.

And you had a part in murdering my sister.

It would be as well for you if you told us what your part was.

In other words, you know nothing.

You are making wild and false accusations.

And I could ask my servant to throw you both out.

Yes, my servant, Miss.

I own this house now.

I am not a housekeeper anymore.

And I don't need to be bullied or harassed by the likes of you.

Glide bought you the house, didn't he?

What if he did?

No law that I know of against repaying a retainer for faithful service.

But what kind of service?

Let me tell you something.

The clergyman bows to me here.

Even Glide didn't expect that, but it is so.

I am a respectable woman.

But I am not a respectable man.

And I have only you to thank for that.

Your lies bought you all this.

And others paid dearly for it.

I have nothing more to say to you.

How are you travelling together, anyway?

Are you married?

No, you're not, are you?

Now, go.

We will not stop.

We mean to find Anne Catherick.

You can't.

Why not?

Why does it frighten you?

I merely mean you cannot find her.

You know what a state she was in when they took her.

Her clothes were so filthy I had to burn them.

Leave the poor woman alone.

And leave me alone.

I am not leaving anything alone.

And I don't care what I have to do.

I find nothing at all physically wrong, Miss Fairleigh.

I rather think the symptoms you describe must have belonged to some passive

infection which took a toll on the nervous system.

I feel sure they will not return.

You can put your clothes back on.

Dr. Kitson, I also wish to ask you about a patient who I

think you were once involved in committing to an asylum.

A Miss Anne Catherick.

Anne Catherick.

Yes, yes.

Very sad.

I want to know where she is.

I feel that's quite impossible, Mathieu.

You must know that all such matters are entirely confidential.

Now, please, go to the cloakroom and put your clothes back on.

I'm afraid I have to know.

I find her tone rather offensive.

I've told you I cannot help.

I have other patients to see.

I have very little time.

You are right.

You have very little time.

And if you walk out of the door now, I will start to scream.

What?

I will run into the waiting room and say that you

made overtures to me of a most disgusting kind.

How dare you?

I will swear it.

You think they will believe you against me?

I am happy to take that risk, Dr. Kitson, of you.

You can be sure there will be scandal.

I will have nothing to do with you.

All with this kind of blackmail, a medical examination will quickly reveal.

..

Your hair on me.

I took it from your brush in the cloakroom where I removed my clothes.

I will also make a public appeal to your next

patient, who is, I believe, the Duchess of Norfolk.

If you deny me, I can certainly wound you, perhaps destroy you.

And I want nothing from you but information which concerns me.

Nobody need know you have provided it.

Please, put some clothes on.

I will tell you what you want to know, and much good may do you.

I want to know her history and also where she is now.

She was moved to a more secure asylum at Sir Gillis in Cornwall.

I have not seen her since I recaptured her,

but I am told she is of no use to anyone now.

What little mind she had is quite gone.

Your name is Fairleigh.

You related to Philip Fairleigh of the Limeridge House?

That was my father.

Are you aware that Anne's mother, Jane Catherick, used to work on the

Limeridge estate when you were in your cradle?

It is possible.

She conceived out of wedlock, and later, to avoid embarrassment, a job was found

for her by her father, I believe, far away on the estate of some friends,

the Glides.

That was the background to Anne's birth.

When she was twelve, she came to see me because she was morally degraded,

quite beyond control.

Why?

I do not know.

Much was concealed from me, and it was obvious

that her mother had been paid for her silence.

But Anne devoted something to me to no one else, which may seem suggestive to you.

She had left something, a lock of her hair, in your father's grave.

Now, why would she do that?

I cannot think.

No?

Hmm.

It rather seemed to me that the Cathericks had

been used as some kind of physical resource.

What do you mean?

And that your father had an involvement.

You've obviously taken after him yourself.

Now, I would be grateful if you would leave and never return.

Without the protection of your class, you'd certainly be on the streets yourself.

Most probably in the gutter.

You think Anne is my father's child?

We may never know.

But if she is, your father did no greater wrong than many men.

You should not confuse his sin with what was done to Laura.

But he was my father.

Perhaps he started a chain using people for what he wanted, and I am where it ends.

I told myself if I was acting wickedly, it was for Laura's sake.

Now I see it is in my blood.

That is not true.

It is true.

And the Count recognised as much.

I cannot go on.

Listen to me.

I did nothing for you and your sister when it might

have mattered, but listen to me now for her sake.

If you talk like this, you let them win.

You are not giving up, and nor am I.

There are two of us now.

We will go to Gilmore together.

He will not hear us.

He must.

Laura would have wished it.

Very well.

But first we must help Anne.

Her mind may be gone, but if we failed Laura, we will not fail her,

especially if she is my sister.

You said in your letter that you were friends with the family.

We had business in Falmouth, and Sir Percival Glyde asked us to see her.

Yes, of course.

Well, it was Sir Percival who brought her here in June.

He has been very good to her.

Well, some aren't, some aren't.

This place is more comfortable than a public asylum, sir.

It is, as you know, only for those who can pay their way.

Anne Catherine gives us no trouble, as you will see.

Mild as a lamb, though that is partly what she takes for the delusions.

Lordenham, sir.

Do you have many visitors?

I hardly think so, sorry, I hardly think so.

Most of us are here, here a long time and are well out of sight, as you might say.

And out of sight is out of mind, isn't it, sir?

A doctor visits and does what he can, but thems has come here.

They're not for cure enough here.

Not really for curing.

Oh, I've just remembered, Sir Percival had this message for you.

For me, sir?

He wanted to know if you'd heard from Mrs. Catherine, Anne's mother.

No, sir, I don't have anything from her, sir.

And Sir Percival said I would know.

Anne... Anne... It is a friend.

Laura!

Oh, thank God, it never lived!

We will see you are not blamed.

And for now, nobody need know she has left.

It is a private arrangement, and we wish to reimburse you fully for your part in it.

It was Anne Catherick who fell, it must have been.

They locked her up in the tower, and she threw herself to her death.

And we had given her Laura's clothes.

Sir, the doctor assumed it was Laura.

They looked so alike.

And Fosco no longer needed to murder.

He had all he wanted, the life of one, the identity of the other.

Then it was Anne who gave her life.

It has been hours, why does she not know us?

It will take time.

We must sleep now.

But what if her mind is gone forever?

Like Anne.

A physical resource.

What?

It was something the doctor said.

Father?

Conceived out of wedlock.

She came to see me because she was morally degraded.

Quite beyond control.

Anne almost told the women of the will my father made at the end.

And I still cannot find where she has hidden it.

There is a secret.

It is hidden in... She had left something.

A lock of her hair in your father's grave.

Now why would she do that?

I know he was her father.

It is so hard to bear.

We believed in him.

I thought he was the best who ever lived.

You cannot be sure.

Yes, I am sure.

And I know where the will is hidden.

This painting always haunted me.

The story of how the artist exhumed her body.

Now I see why.

It is in my father's grave, Walter.

With her hair.

They never allowed us to see him at the end.

He was too ill.

No one.

We are there.

Her hair.

And yes, the will.

Anne did hide it here.

What's that?

Almost in shreds.

But her writing.

We need more light.

It is as we thought.

This will strip Glide of his title and his state.

It will destroy him.

Anne Catharick, age 12.

I hide this will with a lock of hair in the grave of one who was kind to me and...

I know to be my father.

It may yet tell us why Glide was cut off.

Go on.

Because these past months my own secret is I have

one who comes to my bed at night as a husband.

My husband Percival.

Dear God, Walter, I am a child.

What did they do?

I have been looking for so long, as you know.

She was 12 years old.

It is only the ravings of a disturbed child.

A physical resource.

Yes, the Catharicks were that.

First the mother and then the child, even in death.

Yes, I heard you found your sister.

Is she of use to you now?

In her condition?

Even now you have no remorse.

I will tell you, Sir Percival, what you are.

You are a sham, hollow shell, a false thing.

I needed money.

I did what I had to do.

It is over now.

No, it is not over.

And it will never be forgiven.

No degree of self-interest.

No circumstance.

Not even ignorance could ever excuse what you have done to us.

To me and to my sisters.

So what do you propose to do?

Wrestle with me.

No.

If you put yourself so low, then I cannot see you.

Come on!

Open the door!

It was an accident.

And that is how it will be seen.

Mr...

Mr... Mr...

Heart...

Right...

Marion!

Marion!

Laura... Allow me to present Mr. Heartright, who was wrongfully accused.

I am as great an invalid as ever.

But he intimated I must be here.

And he is so very obliging as to speak for me.

The subject is dreadfully embarrassing.

Please hear him.

And please do not make a noise.

All of you will have heard that a conspiracy has been unmasked, which led to

the wrong woman being buried in the church out

here, and Lady Glide being mistakenly imprisoned.

We are here today to celebrate the return to Limeridge of Lady Glide, who is almost

restored to full health, and my own engagement to her.

And so in my dreams, I often find myself back in Limeridge churchyard, in front of

the church, which is now only a bare shell.

And I stand thinking of how they changed the letters on the grave, the grave that

was no longer of my sister Laura, but of a child who was shut away for life,

because a man had abused her.

Of course, everything has changed now.

We live a different life, setting our faces bravely forward, and perhaps we try

not to remind each other, treading carefully around the familiar areas of pain.

But I can never forget the cruel cycle that began

so long ago with the birth of an unwanted child.

And I have one waking prayer.

Let it be over.

Done May 2024