All language subtitles for Mr.Selfridge.2013.S02E07.720p.BluRay.HEVC.x265.BONE

FRANK: And now the
reporting restrictions

Are getting even worse.

I want to tell my readers
the truth.

But the stories
I'm allowed to print

are only fit
for the gossip columns.

The editor's always pushing me
for a scoop...

Whiskers!

What have whiskers
got to do with it?

Every time you get het up

about some great
injustice or other,

I see your whiskers
start to bristle.

(both laughing)

And is that
an attractive quality?

Well, I'm on your arm,
aren't I?

That you are, Kitty Hawkins,
that you are.

What's going on, Frank?

(whispering)?
So is he a spy?

Well, who knows?

(staff whispering)

Would you like to call everyone
to order, Mr. Crabb?

Ladies and gentlemen,
if you don't mind...

(clears throat)

(whispering continues)

KITTY:
Spying is treason,

and the punishment
for treason is hanging.

Yes, but who on earth
would suspect Mr. Leclair

of such a thing?

THACKERAY:
This is war, Miss Mardle.

People show their true colors.

Let's not rush to judgment, eh?

Especially when none of us
know the facts.

Yes, I agree
with Mr. Colleano.

Ladies and gentlemen,
if you please?

(whispering continues)

(loud whistle)

Thank you,
Mr. Colleano.

Now, I appreciate we're
all shocked and distressed

by the incident involving
Monsieur Leclair.

One can hardly fail to notice

the presence of the police
in the store.

As I'm sure you're aware,

with somewhat
unfortunate timing,

Mr. Selfridge has been called
away to Paris on store business.

In his absence, Mr. Crabb and I
will take the helm.

When do we expect
Mr. Selfridge to return?

Imminently.

Imminently, wouldn't
you say, Mr. Crabb?

Yes, that was the impression
Mrs. Selfridge gave me.

Merely a short trip to meet
some new wholesalers.

GROVE:
In the meantime,

I would ask you
to do your best

to cooperate
with the authorities

and to answer any questions
they might have.

Anything, Mr...?

That will be all,
thank you.

Back to business,
Mr. Crabb.

Paris at a moment's notice!

And yet Mr. Selfridge
left no itinerary at all?

This is most unlike him.

He usually asks me to book
all his accommodation.

I can only assume he chose
to make his own arrangements.

If you wish, I could try
his favorite hotels?

Do so at once,
Miss Plunkett.

Let me know the second
you hear from him.

Yes, Mr. Crabb.

You said yourself

Mr. Leclair's been
acting strangely?

Somethings wrong,
but spying?

Stranger things have happened.

Go to the police station.

Talk to him.

Find out what
all this is about.

Anyone says anything here,
I'll cover for you.

Thank you.

They can't do this!

If Pa was here,
he would...

He would cooperate.

As are we.

He'll only be in France
a short while.

I hate the fact
they're searching our home.

There must be some kind
of misunderstanding.

Then why aren't we
doing anything?

Henri is no spy!

Your father's lawyers
are trying to ascertain

exactly what evidence
the police have against him.

(door opens)

(keys jangling)

Miss Towler.

For God's sake, Henri,
call me by my name.

It's good to see you, Agnes.

Look at you.

They would not even let me
change my shirt.

I look terrible,
I'm sorry.

What is it that they think
that you've done?

They believe I have a link
to Germany.

And do you?

It's not what they think.

And you've explained that?

That you're innocent?

You don't think
I've tried?

They refuse to believe me.

Well, then tell me.

Tell me and I'll do everything
I can to help you.

But you have to trust me.

Henri, you're...

You're in great danger.

If they charge you with treason,

then God only knows
what could happen.

Please.

All I want is the truth.

I'm no SPY-

Ever since I returned to London,
I've been searching for someone.

I've been looking for Valerie.

Uh, Valerie Maurel?

Yeah, Valerie Maurel.

She left me a year ago.

We had been happy in New York,

or so I thought.

But then she met another man.

They left and went to Berlin.

I followed them.

I don't understand.

Why couldn't you accept them
being together?

I did, finally, but...

But you loved her very much,
didn't you?

I heard they had
come back to England.

So I came back,
hired a detective.

I just needed
to talk to her.

Well, if you've explained
all of this to the police,

then why won't they
release you?

Someone in the store has
accused me of being a spy.

They think I'm lying
about Valerie

to conceal the truth.

But who would do such a thing?

And Why?

GUARD:
That's it, time's up.

We haven't finished...

Yes, you have.

White gold and diamonds.

Mr. Colleano shows taste.

Victor proposed last night.

I said yes.

Then you must both be
very happy.

You've never
approved before.

He's a good man.

You deserve nothing less.

Miss Mardle.

Mr. Grove.

Miss Mardle, I feel
I simply must broach

a somewhat
delicate subject.

Mr. Grove?

Your lodger...

Florian.

He's a young man.

And men, we both know,
have certain... urges.

Urges they might find
hard to control.

I'm sorry, I'm not quite sure
what you're referring to.

I'm merely concerned
for your reputation.

My reputation?

He gives you
a certain look

which only a man of similar
weakness might recognize.

That is the most ridiculous
thing I have ever heard.

There is nothing inappropriate
about our arrangement.

I don't know what to say!

I'm sorry.

(elevator doors open)

Miss Towler?

Sit down.

AGNES: Mr. Leclair can
explain everything.

He's been looking
for Valerie Maurel.

That's why he went
to Germany-- to find her.

He even hired a detective.

Which accounts
for his strange behavior.

Yet they're refusing
to release him?

Someone has accused him
of being a spy.

Someone from Selfridge's.

That's why the police
won't believe him.

But we have no idea
who his accuser is?

Well, the police won't say.

But Mr. Thackeray
has never liked Henri.

Especially since
Mr. Selfridge promoted him.

I agree there has been
a certain rivalry between them

as two creative people.

He hates him!

We mustn't jump to conclusions.

Leave it to me.

You will find out
who did this?

His... his life is at stake.

Be assured, this matter
will be dealt with.

If someone has falsely
accused Henri Leclair,

I will find out who that is.

ROSE". I don't understand,
Miss Plunkett.

Harry always stays at the Ritz
when he's in Paris.

I'll keep trying other hotels.

All right.

You will call me
if he does arrive?

Of course, Mrs. Selfridge.

Thank you.

Goodbye.

$3'

ROSE".
Why would he have this?

This is Bill's
handwriting.

Who is Bill?

Bill Summertime.

He works for the
Intelligence Service.

The Intelligence Service?

Yes, they were
in touch with Harry.

I'm sorry, I just assumed
he would have confided in you.

Where's Harry?

Where's my husband?

I don't know.

From the looks of this,
he's in Germany.

Germany?

I'm sure if they thought

there was any real danger,
they wouldn't...

My husband runs
a London store!

He's been sent into the arms
of the enemy

and you think there's
no real danger?

Rose, I apologize.

I honestly thought he would have
discussed this with you.

I had no idea that
your relationship was in...

This has got nothing to do
with my relationship.

I need to contact my husband.

There's been an emergency.

Henri Leclair has been
arrested for spying.

Henri?

If you know this man
Summertime,

you need to find out
where Harry is.

I want my husband back.

GROVE".
We still have no firm idea

as to when Mr. Selfridge
will return?

Has he contacted you at all?

Not precisely.

But with all the war
restrictions,

he may be unable
to contact us.

Just so.

Though it is most unlike him.

He does so pride himself

on keeping in touch.

Yes, well, rest assured,
the minute I hear from him,

you will be
the first to know.

Thank you.

The timing is somewhat
unfortunate.

People are seeing conspiracies
everywhere they look.

All the more reason for us
to keep our heads.

Lord Egerton.

I've had the Ministry
on the phone all morning,

bending my bloody ear.

Apologies for the language,
Lady Loxley.

Shoddy.

Poor workmanship.

And the worst of it is

the story is leaking faster
than your damned boots!

So it's a bad batch.

Teething troubles.

I'll have a word
with the suppliers.

For God's sake, Loxley,

everything they've sent
has failed!

Poor seams, cheap leather.

I merely acted
on the recommendations

of Harry Selfridge.

And you followed his advice?

To the letter.

Well, whoever's to blame,
you're the one who's going

to carry the can for this
if it gets out.

So I suggest
you take steps to fix it.

Now!

This a new low.

Even for you, Loxley.

Young men sent to the front
with boots like these?

You should be ashamed
of yourself.

One can't be held to account
for another man's mistakes.

I'm no fool.

One minute we're broke

and the next,
we're rolling in it.

There's no wonder
you were in such a hurry

to get back to town

the moment war
was declared.

You never showed a blind bit of
interest in the House of Lords

until you realized you could get
on the procurement committee.

And then you take
a kickback

from your shady
manufacturers!

Making a profit from war!

Oh, and now you have the nerve

to try and blame the whole thing
on Harry Selfridge!

It is a pity you didn't

raise these concerns
to your shopkeeper friend

before you vouched for me

and before you went
on your little spending spree

in his store.

No, don't you dare!

This has nothing
to do with me!

On the contrary.

You've been lavishing
my money all over town

and the whole world knows it.

And as you are aware,
appearances are everything.

I may be landed gentry

and you might be some tart
from the stage,

but we do have one thing
in common, Mae.

We both look after number one.

At least I have
the honesty to admit it.

(knocking)

Come in.

Mr. Crabb, I think
you should see this.

Thank you, Miss Plunkett.

Could you give me a moment?

Mr. Crabb?

This letter from Mr. Fletcher's
family arrived

with the morning post.

Dave's been killed?

One hardly knows
how to react.

Ed and George?

And the other lads
from the loading bay?

No word, I'm afraid.

One must assume
they remain safe.

Have you told anyone else?

Mr. Grove is aware.

No one else.

In normal circumstances,

Mr. Selfridge would write
a letter of condolence

to the family himself,
but in his absence...

I'll do it.

Dave was my friend.

We have no idea when father
will be back,

and this can't wait.

I will write it.

If you're sure?

It's what Father would want.

You'll have it today.

Very good, sir.

It has to be!

Listen.

"Walked in the park
with K this morning.

"Sometimes it takes the words
of a beautiful woman

to make one realize what
truly matters in life."

(giggling)

Sorry, Miss Hawkins.

We were just reading
Mr. Edwards' column.

Is it true?

LS it you?

"Miss K"?

I'm sure I've got no idea
what you're talking about.

Look, right here.

(gasps)

Back to work,
please, girls.

Timeless, wouldn't you say,
Mr. Grove?

The finest fabrics France
has to offer.

Most impressive display.

I am sure Monsieur Leclair
would appreciate it.

Yes, indeed.

His arrest is
most disturbing.

I recall you had your concerns
over his probity?

Information I thought
you should be made aware of

as chief of staff.

The situation is serious.

The penalties for espionage
are most severe.

If someone were to suffer as a
result of a wrongful conviction,

that would be a tragedy indeed.

I have utter faith
in the authorities.

I'm sure justice
will be served.

I hope so.

For all our sakes.

(sighs)

Writing love letters
to your sweetheart?

Sorry, you were
a million miles away then.

What's wrong?

Mr. Crabb came to see me.

He received a letter.

It's Dave.

Why is Dave writing
to Mr. Crabb?

It's not that.

Dave was killed, Grace.

At the front.

(crying)

I'm sorry.

I know you were close.

When we had problems
with the Union,

he proved himself to be
a real friend.

He understood that family
was more important,

that I had to stick up
for my father.

So what are you writing?

It's a letter of condolence
to his family.

Mr. Selfridge isn't here,

so it's become
my responsibility.

You should hear
Mr. Edwards talk!

The tales he tells me!

Really, Miss Hawkins?

Oh, yes!

Spies in our midst.

Secret agents
everywhere.

Even Buckingham Palace
has got...

Don't stop
on my account.

Miss Towler,

I'm sure Miss Hawkins
meant no harm.

Of course she did.

She always does.

You're pathetic,
you know that?

I wouldn't be surprised

if it weren't you
who informed on him.

(gasps)

Don't you see
what damage this does?!

Miss Towler, this is neither
the time or the place.

Henri Leclair helped make
this store what it is.

Your jobs, your lives--
you have him to thank.

You don't deserve him.

Any of you.

Get on with your work.

VICTOR: So why doesn't
he explain himself?

He's... he tried.

But the police
won't believe him.

Now someone's accused him,

they won't let him go
until they've investigated.

Being in love with a girl
is no crime in my book.

We need to do something.

I'm sure Mr. Thackeray
has accused him,

but we need to prove it.

I-I-I know Mr. Grove
is doing his best, but...

There's no reason we can't
give him a helping hand.

LOXLEY: I used the supplier that
Selfridge himself recommended

for military boots.

So there's your story,
Mr. Edwards.

I thought you might be
interested.

Yes, I would be willing
to meet you.

Why don't you come
to the house?

I think our boys
deserve better, don't you?

An inferior job
by an inferior firm.

All on Selfridge's
recommendations.

The reputation
of my procurement committee

is at stake here.

Not to mention
the effect on morale.

Questions need to be asked.

I thought you were
the man to do it.

I know Harry Selfridge.

I can't believe
he'd allow this to happen.

I agree.

It seems strange.

I have tried to contact him
to get his side of the story,

but he's unavailable.

And the men are talking.

This story is
about to break.

You understand I can't
publish any of this

without corroboration?

Even then, it'd be a risk.

The man has more lawyers
than lovers.

I need to speak to him myself.

I understand completely.

You must do
what you think is right.

But one way or another,
Mr. Edwards,

this story will come out.

VICTOR: And I say it's just
another word for coward.

FRANCO: I just don't see what business
it is of yours anyway, Victor?

VICTOR:
Last time I looked,

you were still a member
of this family,

which means I can still tell you
what's what!

A family quarrel, Mr. Colleano?

You saw?

My apologies.

The boy's an idiot.

Decided to call himself
a pacifist now.

Forgets where his loyalties
should lie.

Don't be fooled by the name,
Mr. Thackeray.

I'm as English
as the next man.

An admirable attitude.

We all have to be
on our guard.

You can't trust anyone.

Personally, I'm glad someone
shopped that frog Leclair.

Well, Miss Towler
seems to worship him.

Although Lord knows quite why.

I'm glad we see eye to eye,
Mr. Thackeray.

I was beginning to think
the world had gone mad.

(laughs)

Whoever turned Leclair in
has done us all a favor.

I'd like to shake him
by the hand.

Then why don't you?

I merely did
what I thought was right.

For my country and my store.

I was surprised to read
your column today.

I think at least
you could have consulted me

before using my good name
for popular entertainment.

I've been trying to see
Mr. Selfridge.

Not like him to disappear
without warning.

Miss Plunkett seemed most
perturbed when I asked her.

He was supposed
to be in Paris.

But nobody's been able
to contact him.

They've tried the hotels?

Everywhere.

It's like he's vanished
into thin air!

Considering working
for our rivals?

They're killing us.

We need a story, Frank.

And a little bird tells me

you've got something
on our Mr. Selfridge?

It's sketchy-- rumors.

That he cut corners
on military supplies?

It seems out of character
for Selfridge.

We can't run it
until we've talked to him,

and he's not
in the country.

I need a scoop, Frank.

And so do you.

I've got another lead.

Lady Diana Manners.

Tittle tattle.

My readers want real news.

Harry Selfridge.

We can't run it
until he's had right of reply,

and I don't know where he is.

I do.

He boarded a train
last night.

But not bound for Paris.

Right now, Mr. Selfridge
is on a train through Holland.

All very incognito,

but we have got a source
in the porter's lodge.

So where's he going?

Germany.

Berlin.

Are you quite sure?

It goes in the evening edition.

Write it, Frank, or I'll find
someone else who will.

(door closes)

It's no good.

Then maybe we should
stop, give up.

Wait until Mr. Selfridge
gets back.

You're right.

My father would know
the right thing to say.

He always does.

Well, maybe Mr. Selfridge
is part of the problem.

You're trying to be
like him

when you should just
be yourself.

So what would this
Mr. Selfridge do?

He'd wish he hadn't offered
to write this letter.

Then don't.

Do you trust me, Kitty?

How do you mean?

I am serious.

As much as any
so-called gentleman.

And do you believe one
should try and tell the truth

when something
really matters?

Is something wrong, Frank?

I rather fear it is.

Thank you, Mr. Colleano.

Ah.

You wanted to see me?

Mr. Colleano has told me
what you said.

About Monsieur Leclair.

I see.

You don't deny it?

Monsieur Leclair
was acting suspiciously.

He'd admitted
he spent time in Germany.

I came to Mr. Grove
with my concerns

and he chose to ignore them.

I don't see what else
I could have done.

Monsieur Leclair has fully
explained his actions.

And you believed him?

I have no reason to doubt him.

He travelled to Berlin
on a personal matter,

the pursuit of which then
brought him to London.

Nevertheless, he has risked
the reputation of this store.

The store
my husband owns.

And he founded it
on certain principles.

Respect for the customer,

respect for the people
he employs,

whether they're
head of fashion

or sweeping the corridors.

Perhaps I was
too quick to act.

Whatever your motivation,
what you did was wrong.

Are you handing me my notice?

If it was up to me,
then yes.

But the final decision rests
with Mr. Selfridge.

However, I do insist
you accompany me

to the police station,

where you will make
a full retraction

of your statement
immediately.

Collect your things.

(door opens)

Mr. Crabb?

The newspaper.

Dreadful news!

It's all over
the front page!

One can hardly believe it!

It's scandalous!

Utterly scandalous!

NEWSPAPERMAN:
Procurement scandal!

Read all about it!

Procurement scandal!

Selfridge implicated!

Read all about it!

Read all about it!

It's a tissue of lies.

The very idea that
Mr. Selfridge would recommend

any of these manufacturers!

We know full well

these names are
dubious at best!

"High-profile sources have
confirmed to this journalist

"that there are more questions
to be answered.

"Lord Loxley of the Military
Procurement committee

has expressed his shock and
surprise at the turn of events."

Loxley said that?

"Mr. Selfridge himself was
not available for comment.

"There are rumors
that he is currently

traveling
through Germany."

But this is
all nonsense!

Germany?

Mr. Selfridge is in Paris.

We must issue a denial.

Demand an immediate
retraction!

Yes, I agree.

No!

We do nothing
until Mr. Selfridge returns

and we hear what
he has to say.

But surely
you don't believe

there can be any basis
to these allegations?

Of course not,

but a strident denial
could simply fuel the fire.

Are you quite all right,
Mrs. Selfridge?

Shall I open a window?

A glass of water?

I could ask Miss Plunkett...

No, I'm fine.

Thank you, Mr. Crabb.

I just think that
under the circumstances,

a dignified silence
is the wisest course.

At least until my husband
returns.

Then he can explain
his actions himself.

Where are we going?

All in good time.

So why won't you tell me
where we're going?

Because we're
already here.

This is where
Dave's family live.

I don't know
if I can do it.

Just tell them
what you told me.

From the heart.

That's all that
really matters,

Mr. Selfridge.

Mrs. Fletcher.

I'm Gordon Selfridge.

May I come in?

Of course.

(violin music playing)

That was truly lovely.

Music is beautiful.

All I have to do is play.

Florian, there's something

that has been brought
to my attention.

A suggestion that I am sure
is quite ridiculous,

but now it has been made...

Well, I feel we need
to clear the air,

as it were.

Yes?

I'm afraid it is
rather personal.

If you wish me to pay rent...

Rent?

Rent, oh goodness me, no!

Not money,
nothing to do with money.

Please, you can say
anything to me.

Very well, I shall.

It has been suggested
that you may have developed

a mild ardor for me.

Something that could perhaps
go beyond what is proper

if we are to continue on
with our domestic arrangement.

Do you understand?

You are asking if I have
fallen in love with you?

Well, yes.

Well, no, no, I'm merely...

It is true.

I have.

You've fallen in love with me?

Is it so surprising?

Well, frankly, yes.

I am so much older
than you, for a start.

And then there are
the cultural differences.

Not to mention the...

I'm sorry, I can't...

I can't...

What is this, Frank?

Just a second.

Do you truly believe this?

That Mr. Selfridge is
responsible for these boots?

The evidence is strong.

How strong?

This could ruin him.

But if it's the truth,
Kitty...

Truth!

What about character?

What about loyalty?

In all the years
you've known him,

has he ever done
anything like this?

For a clever man,

you can be a real fool,
Frank Edwards.

You called, m'lady?

Are you happy with me?

Of course, m'lady.

We've come a long way,
haven't we, since the Gaiety?

Indeed, m'lady.

I had a very good voice.

Like an angel, m'lady.

And I could dance, too.

After a fashion.

Do you remember we used to be
jealous of those girls

who got away?

Married into money?

I bet they talk about me
that way now

when they're putting on
their makeup

and practicing
their scales.

You married well, m'lady.

You never used to lie to me.

Not when you were
my dresser.

You used to tell me
what was what.

"Not that dress, Mae.

Makes your ankles look like
a dray horse's fetlocks."

(laughs)

You understand that
I have to leave, don't you?

But you can stay
if you want to.

No, m'lady.

I'll get your clothes.

Oh, Jane?

We only take
what we came with.

No more, no less.

Mr. Thackeray?

I don't know
if I can face him.

If he truly is innocent.

But you will.

And I will make sure
Mr. Selfridge knows

you did your best
to repair the damage.

(door opens)

(phone ringing)

LOXLEY:
Loxley.

Ah, I wondered
when you would call.

Really?

Yes, I am available
to give you a comment.

Lady Loxley.

Rose, I'm sorry to call
unannounced like this,

but there's something
I must discuss with you.

I fear Loxley means
to cause trouble for Harry.

I think you'll find
he already has.

You knew about this,
didn't you?

Didn't you?!

You vouched
for your husband.

Harry trusted you.

I trusted you.

I made a terrible mistake.

I am so sorry.

I promise I'm going to do
everything in my power

to put this right.

You must think I'm a fool.

I want nothing more
to do with you.

Never contact my husband
or myself again.

I understand.

(sobbing)

Franco told me
what you did.

Getting Mr. Thackeray
to confess.

Thank you.

I felt quite sorry for him.

They're releasing Henri?

Yes, Mr. Thackeray has agreed
to withdraw his accusation.

Good.

I'm glad.

I hope he finds
his girl.

Everyone deserves
a little happiness.

Even the French.

(laughs)

You know, you could have
stopped me from going there.

Not every man
would have been

so understanding.

Yes, well, I trust you,
believe it or not.

Well, I do love you.

Good job, too.

Not too late, m'lady.

We could turn round?

We've made our beds,
Pimble.

Looks like it's time
to lie in them.

(doorbell rings)

(door opens)

Mr. Grove?

Where is Mr. Leclair?

I'm afraid there's...

been a complication.

The police have refused
to release him.

I don't understand.

They accepted
Mr. Thackeray's retraction?

Indeed.

But...

It seems there's
something else.

Since being arrested,

the police have carried out
some checks.

They've contacted
the American police.

Purely routine, but...

What is it?

Mr. Leclair has been accused
of theft.

In New York.

He disappeared without
answering the charges.

He's a fugitive.

Henri Leclair is a wanted man.

(sighs)

I thought she was going
to burst into tears.

She went as red
as anything.

(laughing)

It's a telegram.

(sobs)

Captioned by Media Access
Group at WGBH access.wgbh.org