Original subtitles

She wants sorrel soup.

Sorrel soup?

Where am I to get sorrel, I'd like to know?

There's a fine clump of nettles, out by the dairy. . .

Nettle soup?

It's a County Cork specialty.

They'll never know the difference.

You should really push it on to Mrs. H ugo. . .

Lois. . .

Ah, Colthurst! Welcome, welcome!

- Isn't she a beauty? - Very fine, sir.

Would you like some poteen? Best in the country.

Myra won't let me have it above stairs.

- D'you fancy a drop? - No, thank you, sir.

I'm sure Sarah could get you a beer, if you'd rather.

No. . . I wanted to talk to you about Lois, amongst other things.

- Lois? - Yeah.

They say that young scamp Peter Connelly is still about.

Connelly?

Oh, Richard! Look, Richard!

Richard, look, those disgusting ants are back.

- So they are. - Oh, do something.

- They're just ants, Myra. - Richard. . .

Sarah! Is the water boiled for the tea?

- Here it is, ma'am. - Bring it here, then.

- Out here? - For the ants, dear, the ants.

- Ah, here they come. - Trust them to be early.

Hello-- oh, really. . . Hello!

"Darling, darling."

"H ugo, H ugo."

- Hello. - Hello.

Hello, H ugo.

Richard, you're looking well.

- I'm so dusty. - Oh, dear.

And this is the niece?

Yes, this is our Lois. She's left school, you know.

- Oh, my dear, so young. - I should never have known you.

Danielstown's looking lovely.

You came through safe? Nobody at the crossroads?

- Nobody stopped you? - No, the roads were empty.

- Quite a day. - Shall we have tea?

- This dust. - The ants.

Oh.

Now, that'll put manners on them.

Poor things.

Daventry, what the devil. . .?

Thanks.

What a peculiar person.

It's so nice, the way you have the house full of young people.

Oh, dear. Someone's left the window open.

Oh, dear, oh, dear.

There.

It's Laurence, my nephew.

He's with us a good deal before he gets back to Oxford.

He's very intellectual, you know.

- Though he does play tennis. - Ah.

It's so good to have you back with us, Francie,

after all this time.

And you're looking so well.

Oh, it really is too much.

See? I told Lois to change these books.

- She's so sweet. - Mmm.

Like her mother.

Mind you, she's not much like her in character.

There's a good deal of her father there.

- Shall I help you unpack? - Oh, no, no.

H ugo always does that sort of thing.

- Does he? - Yes.

Oh, dear H ugo.

Well, if there's anything you need. . .

"You made me happy, sometimes. . .

You made me glad. . .

But there were times, baby,

You made me feel so bad. . ."

So you've given up on Canada, then, have you?

I don't think it was ever on, really.

Would have been a bit of a wrench for Francie.

Oh, yes. A wrench for everybody.

I've sold Rockriver, you know?

The house? And. . .?

And. . .

and now we have no home.

"Gimme, gimme, gimme-gimme. . .

What I cry for. . .

You know you got the kinda kisses. . .

That I'd die for.

You know you made me. . .

love you."

I ntolerable.

I'm off.

Hang on, don't leave me.

I can't help you with her, you know.

Oh, there you are.

What are they thinking of? It's like night in here.

Sorry, old girl. Richard's in his usual form.

I thought I'd never get up to you at all.

What a confounded racket!

So energetic.

I say, there's some kind of guard down there.

- What? - Soldiers. Look.

I'm sure they're just here for Lois.

U h-huh.

- Not too tired? - Oh, no.

Well. . .

perhaps a little.

It all seems the same as ever.

- Certainly Myra is. - Myra.

Of course, she never ages.

Aren't nails the most disgusting things?

J ust growing out of one, yards and yards of them.

I did think Myra looked a little strained today.

I think Richard's worried, frankly.

Doesn't show it, of course.

If you were to believe him, you'd imagine we were in Kent.

All the same, the game is up.

"Doomed, m'dear. All doomed."

Must be extraordinary being an orphan.

Lois, I mean.

Well. . .

she's not, strictly speaking, is she?

- An orphan? - Yeah.

I know the father's still around somewhere.

Africa, I believe.

But he's a bounder. Hardly what you'd call a father.

No, the poor thing's quite alone.

Confusion on people who put flowers on dressing tables.

"You have the loveliest soft eyes."

Silly.

Ah, cigarettes. . .

Must just. . .

You do look sweet.

Black is so striking.

Aunt Myra isn't sure about black for girls.

But you're not a girl. You're quite grown up.

And I expect you're having. . . a wonderful time?

Yes, I suppose I am.

That young man, that was your cousin Laurence?

I'm U ncle Richard's niece, and he's Aunt Myra's nephew,

so I don't know that we're really related at all.

Everything is so complicated over here.

No wonder we poor English find it all so baffling.

I'm afraid I had. . . no idea how to talk to him.

You can talk to him about anything, really.

- Except politics. - Oh?

He's not allowed to talk about politics here,

since the ones he brings over from Oxford are all wrong.

Oh.

I saw someone today.

I n the trees, down by the drive.

My dear. . .

what is that thing?

- It's Lloyd George. - Who?

We call him Lloyd George. My father sent him.

I think it was his idea of a joke.

Shoo!

Ah, Francie!

Down already.

Oh, dear, really is too bad.

Myra's delayed as usual.

I'd always be late if I had a home of my own.

It's very nice weather for the time of year.

We could all sit out in the steps tonight.

Or do you sleep after dinner?

Sleep? No.

It's what I chiefly remember about you.

I think you're mixing me up with someone else.

Won't we get shot if we sit out on the steps?

Well, we haven't been so far.

Even with the soldiers here,

and Lois dancing with officers, up and down the avenue.

But seriously. . .

They said in County Carlow, as we were coming down,

that things were really very bad here.

That's County Carlow all over. There's a great rivalry, you see.

- We always beat them. - Beat them?

- At the football. - Oh, football.

Oh. . .

you've dressed.

Richard, they've dressed.

We're getting so. . .

so bucolic down here.

My dear, Francie was wondering. . .

whether we shouldn't have a machine gun to protect ourselves.

Francie!

Well, shall we go in?

Thank you, dear.

Ah. . . !

From all the talk, one might think

almost anything was going to happen. But we don't listen.

Of course, when you talk to the people themselves,

they tell you the whole thing's nonsense.

I had a long chat this morning with Mrs. Grogan.

She said, "Tis the way o' the young to be a bit wild."

That was her judgement of so-called war.

I said, "some of your friends would like us to go."

Well, she was so indignant.

She was so. . . oh, thank you.

Yes, she almost wept.

She's a very interesting woman, she thinks a great deal.

Of course, our people do think. Not at all like the English.

The Hartigans were telling me. . . By the way, H ugo,

the Hartigans are coming tomorrow for tennis.

- Ah! - Yes.

- Tennis? - Yes, dear, I told you.

The Hartigans and one or two of the regiment.

Will your captain be able to get away?

This country is altogether too full of soldiers.

With nothing to do but dance,

and poke old women out of bed to look for guns.

It would be a great pity if we were to become a republic,

and all those lovely troops were taken away.

I say, the blighters should be rounded up,

and put on a prison ship, and sent to the tropics.

- Like my father. - Lois. . .

What do you think?

About what?

The situation.

Closing in, I think. Rolling up.

H ugo, you mustn't make Laurence exaggerate.

It's the Oxford influence on him.

- What's that? - Shhh!

A furtive lorry is a sinister thing.

Laurence. It isn't furtive.

If it wouldn't be taken in some absurd kind of way. . .

as a demonstration, I'd invite the poor fellows in for coffee.

Colthurst's chaps.

Out every night.

Tomfoolery.

You sound as if you're on their side.

- Whose side? - Well, the Irish.

Why wouldn't I be?

I am Irish.

We all are here.

Except you, my dear.

Richard, would you like a brandy?

I must go in.

This damp.

Your captain doesn't have much to say for himself.

He's not "my captain."

Doesn't he write to you?

Miss Marda Norton on the telephone.

Mmm, Marda Norton? Oh, good.

She's decided to come early. She'll be here tomorrow.

Dear me, we shall be a full house.

Laurence. . .

there's an ants' nest there. You're sitting on it.

Not since you made Sarah scald them all to death.

Richard should be here soon. . .

"You made me sad. . .

"but there were times, when. . ."

Oh, it's you!

Sorry. Did I startle you? Who d'you think I was?

What are you doing, creeping about there?

- Well, my men are down the road. - Your men?

Yes. . .

We had a bit. . . a bit of an adventure tonight.

You mustn't write such things to me, you know.

Oh. . . Did you get my letter?

I'll come to the tennis party.

Aunt Myra invited you, didn't she?

Yes.

Well, I see you at the party, then.

- Gerald. . .? - Yes?

Nothing.

Oh, you dope.

I was thinking. . .

if Gerald were with us and we met some of them,

would Gerald have to shoot at them, or would he be off-duty?

- "Them"? - You know, rebels.

They might shoot Gerald.

Oh, no. Not with me there.

Well, they know me.

She's lost a suitcase!

O'Brien!

I need to go to town. Miss Norton has lost a suitcase.

It suits you.

Such a fuss!

The train made off with one of my suitcases,

and now there's a council meeting to decide what to do about it.

The young man is all for motoring off in pursuit.

- Laurence? - Yes, that's the one.

He's quite excitable. He insists he met me in London,

but I'm afraid I just don't remember.

Then, there's the other woman. H ugo's wife, you know. . .

Francie?

Yes, isn't she. . . his mother? Practically?

Faintly resentful.

I expect she thinks me a vamp.

Do you?

- What? - Do you think that I'm a vamp?

Oh, God.

- Livvy, was that you? - Did she arrive?

- Who? - Miss Norton, of course.

Murphy at the station said he saw O'Brien

collecting a woman in a fur in the pony and trap.

Is she pretty? How old is she? Is she engaged?

I don't know.

She used to come to Danielstown when she was young.

She knows H u-- Mr. Montmorency.

She's quite old.

That must have been a disappointment!

Yes, Mr. Montmorency, I believe.

You mean he. . .? Oh!

That was years ago, of course.

After he was in love with Mummy, and before he met Francie. . .

There seem to be more people here than I thought we'd asked.

Lois is so free with invitations!

She is so sweet. Where is she, by the way?

Here is that appalling Vermont woman.

She will insist on talking about her insides.

Look at the state of you.

Will you not get up and play a game?

Isn't it a grand day?

Grand.

You're such a sourpuss.

I didn't see you at the Mount Isabel bicycle gymkhana.

I thought you said you'd be there.

Something came up.

I suppose you had to go and shoot somebody.

That's right.

Any news of that brother of yours?

What have you said to her? Livvy?

Livvy?

- What did he say to you? - Nothing.

Was it about Peter?

I'm going home.

Lady Myra, have you seen Lois?

Gerald, would you mind fetching some rugs?

People will insist on sitting on the grass,

- and it's far from dry. - Yes, of course.

What do you suppose she thinks she's doing. . .

having a tennis party in the midst of a war?

And what do you think you're doing?

Why are you here if you don't like it?

I was happy here at your age.

I asked nothing better.

I should like something to happen. . .

something real.

I should like to be here when this house burns.

Oh, for heaven's sake.

And it will burn.

And when it does, we will all be so careful not to notice.

- Isn't this splendid? - Yes. Most enjoyable.

You haven't seen Lois, have you? Myra. . .

I do think it's so sporting. . .

the way you all just stay here and keep going.

Who'd have thought the Irish would turn out so disloyal?

- The lower classes, of course. - It'd be a pity to have a war.

There's been enough unpleasantness already.

Peter.

- Connelly! - Get away from here!

You have no business coming here.

Come out! We know you're in there.

Livvy, go inside. Go inside this minute.

I won't until these. . .

Livvy, Livvy.

Oh, I say, it's damn bad form. . .

hiding behind your womenfolk.

- Don't you, lads? - I'll get behind his womenfolk.

You're being beastly to poor Livvy.

She's quite smitten with you, you know.

I hope you're not being snobbish, I mean. . .

with her people being in trade.

The police barracks in Ballydrum was attacked last night,

just before midnight.

Two policemen were burnt alive.

The others were shot as they were surrendering.

The telegraph wires had been cut, and the road was blocked.

There was no one to send for help,

so there was no help for them.

Our chaps arrived too late. . .

as usual.

Oh, good heavens.

Oh, Francie. You'll catch your death.

- No, I'm all right, really. - Come along. . .

No, H ugo would never forgive me.

Tea, or a nip of brandy, perhaps?

No, nothing, really.

Isn't that young Captain Colthurst devoted?

"Devoted"?

To Lois. And yet he seems so. . . so troubled.

I suppose it's being in the Army,

and being on guard all the time.

It will be most unfortunate if he is sweet on her.

I mean, seriously so.

U nfortunate?

It's impossible, of course.

I mean, he's charming. . . certainly.

He seems to have no relations.

He says his mother lives in Surrey.

Really, my dear. . . Surrey.

I'm not saying his people are in trade.

I'd never say a thing like that without knowing.

Besides, if they were in trade, there'd be money,

and money on that sort does show,

and he obviously hasn't any.

But is that fair on the young man?

Fair?

Well, to let him. . . keep coming here like that.

Shouldn't somebody tell him?

Certainly.

I must have a serious talk with Lois about her future.

We think for Lois an art school.

But don't you think that Lois. . .?

Pissing again, sergeant?

You must have a bad bladder.

Of course, they would all insist on champagne.

- And then Leslie said. . . - Here you are, ladies.

Thank you.

Halt!

You, man.

On your knees, chappie.

Our Father . . . Our Father who art in heaven.

Hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come. . .

It really wouldn't matter,

except that my walking shoes are in it,

and I feel that I must have walking shoes.

Yes, well, your case may have come back by now.

I don't lose things, except coming here.

I'm efficient, really.

It seems to be a kind of fatality.

We'll send O'Brien in the trap to the station.

Ah, James.

Good day to you.

What is the news?

They have found your man.

Oh, yes?

It was a sad thing.

But he wasn't liked, the same fella.

Who was that?

The sergeant. The Tan, Wilson.

Oh, he was well known.

And what happened, James?

They took him on the street.

Gave him a hiding and. . .

then brought him across the fields,

and made him strip off every stitch he was wearing,

and put a bullet in him.

The poor fellow.

Young Connelly it was that done it, they say.

Ah. . .

he's a wild one, all right.

All this violence.

They're after you already. . . the young men.

Richard.

I really think I must have walking shoes.

- I'll drive you into town. . . - We'll send O'Brien.

Anyone interested in getting the benefit of this sunshine?

It won't last the morning.

- A walk, yes. - I'm afraid I can't.

I can lend you a pair of shoes. We're about the same size.

Laurence, you stay here. Keep Francie company.

- Have you done the flowers? - I'll do them later.

- Lois, you're not even dressed. - I know just the ones. . .

Of course, Aunt Myra will keep asking me what I'm going to do.

She wants to send me to Paris. . .

to learn to paint properly.

She says. . . every young girl

should have something a husband could be proud of.

Oh, it's such a bore.

- You're right, they do fit. - Oh, good.

I lost a ring somewhere about here, once.

Did you? What sort of ring?

Engagement, as it happens. Awkward.

Did your fiance mind very much?

No, not very much.

I mean, not as much as Myra and, of course, Richard.

But he was killed on the Somme-- my fiance.

But he had two sons first. I mean, he had married.

He was so young to be a father. . .

to be dead.

I used to play here when I was little.

I've never met anyone so. . . determined to be in love.

Lois?

Well, there is that young man. . .

Oh, thank you. . .

Harold? Gerald?

They dance on the avenue.

- Like rabbits. - Hares.

What?

Hares dance, not rabbits.

Oh.

What a countryman you are. Quite the shepherd's almanac.

Is this Gerald supposed to be in love with her?

I imagine so.

Myra doesn't think it's suitable at all,

and won't hear a word of it.

Personally, I can't think it necessary

for a girl her age to love anybody.

But one always has the idea of love.

I haven't.

Yes, but. . .

you're married.

Goodness, Lois.

You look as though you've seen a ghost.

Have you had a Proustian moment?

I think I'm gonna go back now. I feel a bit funny.

What an odd child.

- Do you think so? - Mmm-hmmm.

She reminds me of me. . .

when I was that age.

It'll rain again by lunchtime.

She's in love, all right.

I'm going to marry, you know.

What?

Perhaps you know him. . . Leslie Lawes, stockbroker?

Fishes a lot, people from Neath.

There, I've blurted it out.

I should have told Richard and Myra,

but that wretched suitcase kept on getting in the way.

And, anyway, they think my engagement's fantastic.

They've all come to nothing.

Hello?

- When? - Mmm?

When will you marry?

Oh. . .

Soon.

This winter.

It'll make a nice break.

I expect you'll go somewhere sunny.

Yes. Leslie is quite rich.

I thought you didn't believe in it.

- Marriage? - Yes.

I never said so, you said you never would,

and then you went and did, and now it's too late.

I expect. . .

I shan't be that different.

Perhaps to be shot. . .

would not be so bad.

It would solve so many things.

Hello.

- I love. . . - Oh, but look. . .

- But I love. . . - What are you doing here?

- I've come for lunch. - You ought to tell someone.

I can't think why you're being so. . .

sudden all of a sudden. I n every way.

I haven't even done these flowers yet. Look. . .

The gong's about to go.

How do you know I'm not in love with a married man or something?

Lois, I thought about you last night,

up in the mountains, when you were asleep.

We were out all night, practically.

Gerald, darling.

Did you have breakfast, even?

What were you saying, Lois?

What did you call me, then?

When?

J ust now, before the. . .

before the thing.

The gong?

Yes, the gong. What. . .?

You're sopping wet.

You're steaming, practically. You smell like a dog.

You know, I'd die for you.

What did I say?

Say it.

"Darling."

Of course, her people were utterly impossible.

Marda, my dear, I've been on to lost property. . .

Marda, dear, look at you, you're soaked.

No, it's just some drops from the trees.

H ugo, how could you let her get so wet?

Myra, dear, I'm not an umbrella.

There's no sign of it, they say, but I thought. . .

Good heavens.

Gerald, are you all right?

Come.

I wondered. . .

I wondered if I could show you my drawings.

- They're fearfully bad. - Do sit.

I shan't be a moment.

- Lunch is being served. - I'm not hungry, somehow.

That's done. I've clinched the deal.

The deal?

Yes. . .

Mr. Lawes. Leslie by name.

My intended.

I told him I had to come here to clear everything up.

I'm terribly sorry. I didn't mean to intrude.

But you haven't.

Cigarette?

Thanks.

I had rather thought that you'd come to confess.

Confess?

To a secret love.

Didn't you meet someone at the mill?

No.

I didn't see anyone.

Oh. . .

Why do you stay here?

Well, I don't have anybody else, you see.

Only U ncle Richard and Aunt Myra.

- Ever been abroad? - Abroad! No.

You should travel.

I'd be interested in what happens to you.

And don't expect to be. . .

"touched" or changed.

That's the advice of someone who is immensely old,

one just watches. . .

What's it like being engaged?

I suggested to Leslie. . .

that we write to Eton and put down the names

of the two boys that we. . .

should hope to have.

And he was terribly shocked.

Oh, my dear, you mustn't,

you mustn't let things. . .

go, they're so. . .

terribly difficult to get back once they've gone.

Now this young corporal of yours,

what's his name? I've forgotten. I mean, his first name?

Gerald. He's a captain, actually.

He seems very dashing and very eager.

- He kissed me. - Did he? When?

J ust now. When you all. . .

You poor dear.

There you are, trying to have a romance

and we come along clumping over it.

I thought that you were a little bit derange.

Well. . . he says he. . .

he cares for me, but. . .

Did you have difficulty beginning?

I can't remember.

Gerald, I'm sure he's. . .

terribly brave and so on, but. . .

I think they're all like that underneath.

They're the weaker sex, really.

Not all of them.

Surely there are other kinds?

Not in my experience.

And I have had. . .

a lot of experience.

Lady Myra, I've got to go.

Oh, dear. Oh, what a pity.

There were so many things I wanted to ask you.

You know, about the Army.

You know, what you do.

Well, well. . .

it's Little Red Riding Hood.

They'll put you in jail, you know.

Cut off your hair,

and make you run through the barracks in your knickers.

- Why did you come here? - To see you.

I remember when we used to play here.

You and Livvy and me.

I was the miller and you were my helpers.

Those summers. So hot.

You wouldn't have a fag, I suppose?

No.

Did you kill that sergeant?

What's his name, Wilson?

I sure did.

And. . .

were you in that ambush on the police station?

- Why do you want to know? - Were you?

What do you think?

I must go.

Don't forget those cigarettes.

"Gold Flake".

Get Livvy to pinch them from the shop.

Well?

Well what?

Out for a spin, were you?

- Will you stay for the dance? - What dance?

Well, the officers' wives are organizing a dance,

up at the camp.

Well, how could I resist?

I'd like you to stay.

I'd like. . .

- How's your fiance? - Mr. Lawes?

Terribly glad it's all decided, at last.

- Does he write? - Yes, he does write.

Very businesslike.

"The papers are being drawn up," he says.

I think he's going to float our marriage on the Stock Exchange.

But it's not the worst choice, you know.

What?

- Safety. - Hello, there!

Captain Colthurst. What an unexpected pleasure.

- Splendid day, what? - Absolutely.

I must go. I have to get back and do the flowers.

Quite abrupt, these country girls.

Dashed if I can understand them.

Perhaps it's because. . .

we're Irish.

We look like you, and we speak like you.

Well, almost. But we're not. . .

Well, we're not you, are we?

Sorry, I don't follow.

Well, we're not so much. . .

a people as a tribe, really.

And, of course. . .

tribal people always. . .

prefer their own.

- Their own? - Yes.

Even. . .

if their own. . .

come from a different tribe.

I mean, take Lois, going about the country like. . .

a "chieftainess" or something.

Very Irish.

D'you see what I mean?

Good day to you now, missus.

I want to see Livvy.

She's with her mother.

Will you call her for me?

Miss Lois, I think you'd be better advised. . .

I'm not the Army, you know.

Some cigarettes, please.

"Gold Flake."

Ah, Miss Lois.

For Miss Norton.

They say he's been seen about the fields.

- Seen? - So they say.

You're keeping a watch on the shop?

- Around the clock. - Good.

I hear the mother is very bad now.

Yes.

It would be a hellish thing. . . to trap him that way.

Oh, hellish, yes.

They won't win, you know, sir.

My dear chap, they will. It's only a matter of time.

But we've got to make it as hard for them as possible.

That's important for afterwards, you see?

Sorry?

We've got to spoil it for them, that's the point.

You're losing a bit of the jolly old Empire--

territory, revenue, subjects.

When that's gone, England will still be there.

But we are losing a country. . .

a world.

The difference is that you don't care.

Flanders saw to that.

But we do.

We care.

D'you follow me?

"We"?

The Irish.

But they're Irish, too.

Exactly.

You wanted to speak to me about. . .?

Oh, Lois, yes, of course.

You see, the thing is, O'Brien came to me.

You know my man, O'Brien.

He tells me that Lois has been seen

wandering about the countryside.

- Yes? - Not safe, man. . .

With hotheads like young Connelly roaming around.

I've tried speaking to her. . .

but she's a willful child, as you're aware, I'm sure.

You see, they knew each other as children.

She and Connelly, and Connelly's sister.

You've met her-- Livvy.

Yes. They used to play together.

Things were easier in those days.

No, I think the only thing for it. . .

is to find young Connelly,

and make him safe.

I mean, the womenfolk have to be protected.

"Make him safe"?

Well. . .

I think that's the thing to do. . .

don't you?

I'm. . . I'm not. . .

Good, good, I'm so glad we understand each other.

So, are you looking forward to the dance?

Splendid idea.

Does wonders for the morale, that sort of thing.

Good night.

I'll see you out.

Thanks for coming.

Thank you, sir.

Bye-bye.

Why do you keep on?

To get rid of your crowd.

Why else?

We want our chance.

Where will we go?

Wherever you like.

Back to England.

Back?

What's the matter?

Oh, look.

O'Brien's taken down the nets.

Oh, honestly, at the first shower of rain.

Dratted fellow.

They long for it to be winter, you know.

It's a thing I've noticed.

Tennis without a net is not much of a game.

Can't we get him to put it back?

Well, let's play H unt.

It's a grand game. We used to play it as children.

Dear me.

What is she up to now?

- Who? - Marda.

She's hatching something. Look.

Shall we spin?

I can't say I'm entirely sorry she's going soon.

She's such a disruption.

And I don't think she has at all a good effect on H ugo.

H ugo?

You must have noticed.

It's something I can't speak to poor Francie about,

but I know she's noticed.

I know she's unhappy.

Of course, she always is unhappy,

but she's unhappy now in a different way.

It's so, so delicate. One could easily say too much.

No, what H ugo needs is real trouble.

If Francie were to die. . .

- Is she seriously. . .? - Oh, no. No, no. . .

I'm sure he'll die first.

He has just that way of avoiding things.

Tally-ho!

I'm on you, Miss Norton.

Oh.

Watch it.

I say. Caught, what?

Caught.

Is that the gun you shot the sergeant with?

It is.

Can't you see the notch here on the butt?

What's it like?

What, killing?

Ah, you get used to it.

You're always staring at me. D'you know that?

What are you looking for?

Come on.

Is that Colthurst?

Yes, it is.

Look at the cut of him.

What'll you say?

I'll say you held me hostage.

Give me that.

You'll have to wound me, or they won't believe me.

Go on.

Lois?!

That's my last round.

Lois!

Lois, what. . .

Stay here. Stay there!

Jesus.

Not in the back, man. Not in the back!

Jesus Christ!

I say, old girl.

Why don't you take me for a nice walk?

I think Lois wishes to be alone.

Well, niecey?

Heigh-ho, uncle.

What a thing, eh?

I don't know what the world's coming to.

Where's your gallant soldier?

He seems. . .

to be fond of you.

Mmm.

I hear his regiment might be moving up to Carlow.

Not far, of course, but still. . .

you'd miss them.

You'd miss the tennis and so on.

Others would come.

You're sure?

Yes.

Quite sure?

We just want you to be happy.

That's all we want for you.

I am happy.

Good.

And stay away from that mill.

Dangerous times, niecey.

Captain Colthurst. Oh, how good of you to come.

I hope I'm not taking you away from your duties.

Not at all.

How is. . .

how is Lois?

Lois? Quite recovered, I think.

It was a small wound.

Is there any news of Peter Connelly?

Not yet, but we'll get him.

I was told that you had him.

Livvy is beside herself, of course.

She won't show her face.

Oh, the greenfly this year.

Oh, poor Livvy.

I'm very fond of her.

Very fond.

Of course her people are not. . .

Then there's the matter of her brother.

Still, I do think these stories about her are too bad.

- Stories? - Yes, she apparently has. . .

some connection with one of your brothers in arms.

That rather dangerous looking man. . . What's his name?

Captain Daventry.

That's the one.

There are all sorts of rumors, you know.

It's too bad.

Doesn't seem fair to a young girl at the beginning of life

to have her name coupled.

Don't you agree?

Of course, her father would never hear of an. . .

An engagement?

No, never. Never.

Livvy, you know, is practically motherless.

But many people are motherless.

- Lois is. - Exactly.

We would never countenance that kind of an attachment for her.

But there's nothing between Livvy--

between Miss Connelly and Captain Daventry.

He doesn't care for her.

I'm so glad to hear that.

On the other hand, Lady Naylor,

I am in love with Lois.

What nonsense. Where do you young people. . .

get these ideas?

I can certainly tell you, she's not in love with you.

Naturally, she's pleased that you like her.

But I'm afraid that's as far as it goes.

She's spoken to you?

My dear young man, I don't need to be spoken to.

Captain Colthurst, I don't want to see you miserable,

but there are all sorts of reasons why

there can be nothing between you and Lois.

And one of them is. . .

Now you may think me dreadful. . .

but there are things in life one must face.

There is money, for example.

I mean, you haven't any now.

Have you?

You're going to stop it, aren't you?

Captain Colthurst, do think.

Would I ever stop anything?

Besides, there's nothing to stop.

I'm too poor, and not "county" enough

or whatever it is I ought to be, isn't that it?

Will you prevent me from seeing her?

I don't know what kind of mothers and aunts you're accustomed to,

but how could you think that I could attempt such a preposterous thing?

Lois isn't even my niece.

It would be for Sir Richard to decide.

I thought he had.

Eh?

He spoke to me.

Oh, yes, I . . .

I seem to remember him mentioning

that you and he had had a chat.

You used me. You and Sir Richard used me.

I'm sure all Sir Richard asked was that you do your duty.

Is that not so?

And from what I hear, you failed in that.

Captain Colthurst, I don't see why you and Lois

should not have a perfectly friendly, sensible talk

before your regiment leaves. Now, there must be no. . .

Here's Mrs. Montmorency.

Ah, would you take these in for me, dear?

Time for lunch, I think.

You'll have things to attend to, I expect, Captain.

Oh, Myra.

Yes, dear?

It seems that we can't ever be married.

Your aunt says that I'm not good enough for you. . .

and I haven't got any money.

And she said we should have a frank talk.

And this is it, then?

The frank talk?

It's very hard for me.

The regiment's to be moved, quite soon.

To Carlow.

I might be able. . . to stay.

But I'd need a reason.

A reason?

I want a chance with you.

Despite your aunt, despite. . . everything. . .

I believe I could make you care.

I can't. . .

You see, you're everything.

I know.

You do? Then why can't it all be simple?

This is a nightmare.

No one, not even Marda. . .

Gerald, don't stand there like that.

Like. . .

and do stop fiddling with that belt.

I'm sorry, I don't understand you.

I was so happy. I was so safe.

- When were you happy? - What?

Before.

You didn't "stumble" on Connelly, did you?

You knew where he was and you went to him.

God, I should never have let him go.

If you had shot him,

I would never have forgiven you.

I would have taken a gun, and shot you myself.

We're lost. . .

both of us.

Entirely lost.

Gerald?

Yes?

Oh, Lois, I . . .

Oh, Lois. . .

The young man. He seems so unhappy.

Gerald?

I saw your aunt speaking to him. I'm sure she meant well,

but, oh, he looked so, so lost.

My dear, I can't bear for lives to go wrong.

And that poor young man, the way he. . .

the way he picked up that rose. . .

I should write to him at once, or even telegraph.

I should say. . .

Well, I don't know, really.

Oh, Lois. . .

D'you not love him at all?

Who?

Why, Gerald, of course. Who else?

I'm silly.

I'm sorry.

I just. . .

thought that I might be able to help.

He's in a bad way, you know.

Who?

Captain Colthurst.

And you?

Are you all right?

I'm not at my best. That's a fact.

I'm beginning to hate this country, you know. . .

down to the very feel of the air,

and the smell of the water.

Like falling in love. . .

in reverse.

You have the most satanic laugh. D'you know that?

Have I?

Oh.

Is this like a bombardment?

No.

Livvy.

He wants to see you.

What?

He's at the mill. He asked me to tell you,

now I've told you.

Livvy?

Mummy's gone.

I wanted to see you.

Before I go.

- Go? - Over to Clare.

I'm no good here with half the bloody Army after me.

How's the hand?

When?

Tonight.

You can't. . . go.

I'm sorry about your mother.

This time I'll be the miller.

You could help me with her, you know.

Help you?

With Lois. You could help me with her.

I'm afraid I can't help anyone. Not even myself.

Where is she? Have you seen her?

She left.

You're hurting me.

You might think of going after her.

Has she gone home?

I think not.

Perhaps the mill. . .

might be the place to look for her.

Playing with fire, Miss Lois.

What's that?

You brought them here.

You bitch, you.

I didn't.

Go.

Go, go on.

Go on!

H ush, now. . .

This one's loaded.

Where was he?

How, how was he. . .?

I nstantaneous. . .

as they say.

It's. . .

it's too bad.

I told him he should put the fellow. . .

He used to come here so often.

It's queer how one can't. . .

How one never. . .

He was. . .

Yes, he was. . .

wasn't he?

It's from Gerald.

Oh, my poor child, I . . .

You must get away from here.

Go with Marda, go to London.

This place is dying.

What's that, old girl?

Oh, it was Lois.

She doesn't seem. . .

It hasn't sunk in, probably.

No.

That's it, you know.

Time to move on.

What?

Better get out your little pen,

find somewhere else for us.

Are you sure?

Sure.

Was that the Montmorencys I heard leaving this morning?

Practically at dawn.

Yes.

They wanted to get an early start.

The Trenches are taking them in.

Are you very sad?

About H ugo?

Not really.

I keep wondering. . .

how he knew to come to the mill.

I'd like to know.

There are occasions when it is better to be ignorant.

Don't you think?

And now I must away. . .

and be wed.

- Will you take me with you? - What?

On my honeymoon?

I don't know what Mr. Lawes would say.

But I can't stay here.

Oh, my darling.

Of course. If that's what you want, I'll take you with me.

If that's what you want.

Francie recommended you.

Francie? Well, the sly old thing.

And all the time I thought she disapproved of me.

We shall have some adventures, you and I .

Yes.

I shall be just like my father.

Laurence. . .

I do wish you'd stop playing with that thing.

- Isn't it Lois'? - She's given it to me.

It's a going away present.

There's an article in here about Canada.

You know, H ugo says he and Francie

are thinking of it again.

What?

Canada.

all this coming and going, it's too much.

That man Daventry was odd, wasn't he?

Yes.

Shell shock, I should think.

Yes.

Dreadful, really.

We must all learn to live with our losses.

Yes.

All right, Davey.

Be careful at the crossroads. Don't stop for anyone.

- Well, niecey. Goodbye. - What-ho, uncle.

Look after her in London. None of your loose ways.

- We'll be a pair of nuns. - Lois. . . here you are.

- Thank you for your help. - Bye. I'll write.

Make sure you do. You'll have to tell all the news.

- Won't he, Marda? - Absolutely.

All right, Davey, off you go.

- Bye-bye. - Bye.

Bye.