Original subtitles

Tea, I think, don't you?

Yes.

Boots off.

Well, arm up.

Aah!

Just arrived for you, miss Caroline.

Oh, for me!

Could we have some tea, joanna, when you're ready?

Oh, come now, darling. Put us out of our misery.

Tell us who they're from.

It just says, "to my darling Caroline."

Well, don't look at me. I didn't send them.

Grandfather?

Not me. Sorry.

Why, they're probably from daddy, darling.

But he would have said, wouldn't he?

[Camera clicks]

Oh. I must have been absolutely potty,

agreeing to help with the talent show.

At least it's for a good cause.

I can't help thinking I've got

better things to do.

You seemed definite enough about it

when you agreed.

"Where else are the pensioners

gonna have their quiz night?" You said.

"And the mother and toddler groups,

where are they gonna go?"

Look at it this way, love.

I think you're gonna have a lot more fun

this morning than I am.

Oh? What have you got in mind?

Introducing young Geoffrey

to the mysteries of accountancy

for starters.

I wouldn't worry about that, Robert.

I've got me own plans for that young man

this morning

if and when he ever gets back

from his driving lesson.

What plans?

Geoffrey: Hello?

At last! Hi!

How did it go?

Not bad.

I only ran over one policeman.

Oh, aye. Ha.

How do you like your new instructor?

Nice legs.

A woman?

Well, of course, a woman.

Well, don't sound so shocked, Robert.

They're thinking of giving us

the vote soon, you know?

Now then, Geoffrey,

you like music, don't you?

Yes.

Good. Come on!

There's some lunch for you on that tray, Robert.

Tata!

Race you to the Ford. Come on.

You're on.

[Camera clicks]

Caroline: Ha ha ha!

Oh, no. It's him again.

Right!

Go on!

Hetty: Right. Come on, Geoffrey.

Say something.

Like what?

Well, I think the usual phrase is

"how now, brown cow?"

"How now, brown cow?"

I'm not saying that in front of all these people.

Look, we haven't got all day.

Jus say it, will you, please?

Ok. How now, brown cow?

Oh, terrific.

I think the tweeter's blown, Mrs. Wainthropp.

What? The tweeter.

It's obviously gonna need a bit of adjusting.

All right. Should we give it another go?

No. Not if the what's-it is gone.

We'll have to find somebody who knows

what they're doing.

Oh, look at this! Aw!

"When daisies pied and violets blue."

Oh, it's lovely, is this.

We used to sing it at school.

"And lady-smocks all silver-white

and cuckoo-buds of yellow hue."

� Then, on every tree �

"mocks marr"--

� mocks married men �

oh, it's lovely.

� Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo �

woman: � cuckoo �

yes. Isn't it lovely?

� Oh, word of fear �

very, very nice tune.

Right, then, Geoffrey. Let's make a start

on this lot, shall we?

Right. Thanks.

Coping are we, Mrs. Wainthropp?

I think so. Ha ha!

Oh! Well done, Geoffrey.

Good morning.

Oh, good morning, Mrs. Langley.

May I introduce Mrs. Wainthropp?

She's our local sleuth.

I'm delighted to meet you, Mrs. Wainthropp.

So, all set then?

Well, I wouldn't say that,

but I expect we'll get there eventually,

won't we, Mrs. Wainthropp?

I expect so, yes.

Very kind of you to let us

use the grounds, particularly

with your own big day coming up.

Oh, it's the least I could do

as President of the committee,

and we'd booked the marquee for Caroline's young friends

to have her party,

so it really is no trouble.

Woman: Excuse me. Mrs. willoughby,

can I have a quick word.

Yes. Oh. Excuse me, please.

This is Geoffrey Shawcross,

my associate at the agency.

Oh. Hello.

Geoffrey.

How are preparations coming along

for the wedding, Mrs. Langley.

Very well, thank you.

Good.

Mrs. Wainthropp, I confess

I came over deliberately to meet you.

I was hoping to have a word with you

about my daughter Caroline.

If you have a moment, of course.

Of course.

So how can we help you, Mrs. Langley?

I'm not sure that you can.

The police don't seem to be able to.

The police?

You know that Caroline's wedding

is due to take place a week on Saturday

at St. Peter in the vale?

Yes.

Well, everything was going very smoothly,

swimmingly, in fact,

and now it appears she's--

she's being stalked.

Stalked?

Yeah. For the past fortnight,

this man's been appearing

everywhere she's gone,

taking photographs of her.

And that's all he does, is it,

simply takes her photograph?

That's all he's done so far,

but, well, as you can imagine,

it's not pleasant.

No, it's not.

What did the police say to you?

Basically, that with the manpower situation

the way it is they were hardly

in a position to offer 24-hour surveillance.

Besides, he could just be some sort

of journalist

and, according to them, well within his rights.

So what exactly do you want us

to do for you, Mrs. Langley?

Well, if nothing else,

find out who he is

and why he's here

at whatever your usual rates are, of course.

But before we do,

there's nothing I should know, is there?

What do you mean?

You've no idea why he might be doing this?

Of course not.

There is one thing, though,

that may or may not be significant.

Those.

They arrived for her yesterday afternoon,

but as you can see,

there's no name on the card.

And you think this person might have sent them?

The events could be entirely unconnected,

but no one else will admit to it.

Robert: She's right about that of course.

Who is?

Mrs. Langley when she said

the two events could be

entirely unconnected.

Well, of course she's right,

but then again, Robert, it seems to me

to be too much of a coincidence

to be a coincidence, if you know what I mean.

Any road up, it's somewhere

to make a start.

Now where are you off to?

To find out who sends �40 worth of roses

and doesn't even bother to put his name to them.

Beautiful, though, isn't she?

In fact, they both are.

Woman: Two dozen best red, right?

That's right.

Australian gentleman, actually.

Australian?

Oh, yeah.

Right aussie twang.

And his name?

Can't help you there, love.

He paid cash, you see.

Can you remember what he looked like?

Oh, yeah.

I mean, dead fit really for his age, like.

What age would that be?

Ooh! Must have been getting on for 50 at least.

Good heavens! That old?

Anything else you can remember about him?

Well, he were brown-haired,

and he had this dead-good tan, like,

I mean, the sort you felt he probably had

all over, you know?

Oh, yes.

Well, apart from that and the fact

he obviously had a Bob or two.

I mean, that car he were driving.

Well, don't ask me what it was,

but it looked like it had a swimming pool

in the boot.

Nothing else really.

Well, thanks for that anyway.

So you're one of those private detectives, are you?

Yes, I am.

Can you do courses in that down at the tech then?

I don't see why not.

Mrs. Langley, please.

Oh, I see.

Is Caroline there at the moment?

Oh, is she?

And that would be at St. Peter's in the vale?

Right. Thank you.

[Man speaking indistinctly]

Then comes your chance to test out acoustics.

They're particularly fine at St. Peter's,

so you don't need to shout.

Now it's at this point that the best man

will do one of two things--

either produce the ring

or break the bad news to the groom

that he's left it back in the mess.

[Reverend continues indistinctly]

[Car starts]

Bye.

Mm. Good luck.

Thanks.

Now, darling, you sure we can't

drop you off anywhere?

I told you, I have absolutely tons

of shopping to do.

Ok. Well, we'll see you later

back at the ranch.

Don't be late.

I am saving that for the big day.

Oh, don't you dare.

[Horn honking]

Bye, darling. Bye.

Miss Langley.

Yes?

I'm Hetty Wainthropp.

Your grandfather said I'd find you here.

Ah, so you're the gumshoe

mummy's hired.

Ha! That's the first time I've been called that.

I was wondering if we could have a word

over a cup of tea perhaps.

It will be have to be a quick one.

I am rather meeting myself

coming back today.

I'm sure.

I do feel that mummy's making a bit

of a meal of this photographer business,

Mrs. Wainthropp.

You didn't see him inside the church then?

He was in church?

Well, somebody with a camera was.

An Australian?

Apparently, yes.

I don't know that I know any 50-year-old Australians,

certainly none that would send me flowers,

but if he is that age, then he can hardly be

my stalker, can he?

Because the man Thomas and I saw

when we were out riding the other day

couldn't have been a day over 30.

Robert: What's she like then, this miss Langley?

Oh, a bit toffee-nosed, I suppose,

but then given her background,

that's not all that surprising.

She probably thinks I'm a bit of an odd stick.

I think I dislike her already,

and I haven't even met her yet.

Now you she'd have eating out of her hand

in 10 seconds flat.

Oh, thanks very much.

She's a beautiful-looking girl.

If she's snooty as that father of hers--

oh, thanks.

I didn't know you knew her father.

Yes, we've met.

Not that he'd remember me, mind.

Where was that?

The British legion when I was secretary

of the fundraising committee.

He came to our armistice day parade

and marched up and down as though he was

Montgomery or somebody.

So what's our next move then,

Mrs. Wainthropp?

Well...

I think we should concentrate now

on our aussie friend, don't you,

who if he is an aussie

and a stranger to this area,

must be staying at some hotel locally.

Unless he's resident locally.

I think not, Robert,

with the sort of tan I've had described to me.

Heh heh heh!

So tomorrow, Geoffrey, you and I check out

every hotel in the area.

And if he is at one of them,

then what?

Well, we tell them that as aussies ourselves

we've heard there's a fellow countryman of ours

staying with them, and being aussies

and famous for our outgoing nature,

we just want to drop by

and say, "g'day," don't we?

As aussies ourselves? What?

Fair dinkum, Geoffrey.

I'm not even sure I can do an aussie accent.

I've told you. The key to doing

an authentic Australian accent is

"I'm going down to brisbane

for the cricket."

Come on.

I don't know anything about cricket.

You don't have to.

Now, look, just keep practicing, will you?

I'm going down to brisbane

both: I'm going down to brisbane for the cricket.

Good.

You don't think I should wear a hat

with corks in it and put a didgeridoo

over my shoulder, do you?

I'll get you a koala bear to carry

if you say much more.

See you later, cobber.

[Bell dings]

G'day.

Pardon?

G'day...Mate.

G'day, dearie.

Good morning, madam.

And isn't it a good day by the way

for the time of year anyway?

I suppose it is, yes.

Can I help you... sir?

I'm over here for the cricket.

The cricket?

Yeah, you know, the, uh...

Cricket.

Uh, and what I heard is that one of our lot

might be staying here.

We have no cockneys staying here.

You see, I'm over here from down under,

brisbane, tell you the truth,

and sweet though the old country

undoubtedly is, I'm already feeling

the odd pang of homesickness, you know.

Aussies. I'm an aussie from brisbane.

Are you? Yep.

And if we have, what?

Well, I'd just like to say, "g'day."

Woman: As a matter of fact, we do have

an Australian gentleman

staying with us at the moment.

Really?

He wouldn't by any wild stretch of the imagination

be from brisbane, would he?

I think he's from Melbourne actually.

You wouldn't by any chance be trying

to extract the Michael,

would you, sir? Me? No?

You're one of those barmy, bloody

students perhaps. No.

Up to one of your rag day romps.

No, no. Honest. I just want to know

if you have any aussies staying here.

So you can say good day to him, right?

Right. But...

If you haven't, that's ok to be honest.

In fact, forget it. Ok. All right.

Woman: A Mr. arkwright.

Is he on the premises at the moment?

He isn't, but we are

expecting him back shortly

if you'd like to leave a message.

Oh, well, perhaps not, eh?

I mean, I--I wouldn't like to seem pushy,

and if he is from Melbourne,

which, as you know, is just down the road

a piece from us,

I can--

well, thanks very much anyway, dearie.

You've been a real sport.

Not at all, madam.

Reception. How may I help you?

304, please.

Cheers.

Oh, Mr. arkwright.

There's a Mr. Vincent waiting in the bar for you.

Cheers.

Mr. Vincent, I presume.

Have we met then?

We have now.

Hetty Wainthropp, private investigator.

Snap.

Robert: A private detective?

That's what it said on his card.

Well, why would somebody want to

hire a private detective

just to take photographs

of the langleys?

Exactly. Fortunately, while I was waiting

in reception,

I did just happen to catch his room number.

I hope you're not planning on

breaking and entering.

I'm planning to go in and question him.

Hello again.

Oh, hello, dearie.

You, uh, found him then, did you--

Mr. arkwright?

Only I believe that he's up in his room

in the moment

if you'd like me to call him for you.

We did bump into him in the bar just now.

Between you, me, and the gatepost,

we've arranged to split a couple of tinnies later.

Right.

Oh, and this is my nephew by the way.

He's over here for the cricket, you know.

Aren't you, possum?

Yeah.

The cricket?

You play then, do you?

Oh, yeah. Two right.

We named him after Jeff Thompson.

He's our quickie.

Really? Excuse me.

[Telephone ringing]

"Our quickie"?

Never mind.

Hello? Mr. arkwright?

Mr. arkwright?

Wait outside, please, Geoffrey.

[Door shuts]

[Elevator dings]

Mr. arkwright? Mr. arkwright!

Mr. arkwright, I was just looking for you.

Only there's a message for you in reception,

and it sounded urgent.

Ok. Thanks. I'll ring them up.

Oh, whoa! No, no, you can't ring them.

How come?

No. Ha ha. Uh, the computers

have just crashed,

and none of the phones are working.

I see. Yeah. So shall we?

Yeah. Ok. Ok.

Uh, here.

Thanks.

Oh. Thanks very much.

Mrs. Wainthropp?

Here!

Oh, come on!

Mrs. Langley: Good God.

It's Doug arkwright...

After all these years.

Is that his real name?

Oh, yes.

Yes, except that he isn't Australian.

He's as English as we are,

so where the accent has come from...

Well, I--I suppose some sort of explanation

is in order, isn't it?

It might help.

If nothing else, it might shed

a bit of light on why he's doing

what he's been doing.

Look, do you mind if we get some fresh air?

Of course not.

I last saw Doug, what, 22 years ago,

something like that.

We were with b.A.O.R. In Germany.

Father had just been made up to C.O.

I was only about 21 myself at the time.

We both were.

And close friends obviously

from the look of the photograph.

Oh, rather more than that, Mrs. Wainthropp.

In fact, much more.

Doug was father's driver.

He used to run me all over the place.

Which was how it all started, I suppose.

He was very attractive in those days.

Well, he still is.

Is he? Oh, yes.

Yes. I expect he is.

And of course there was the other attraction

for me anyway.

What other attraction?

Forbidden fruit.

You mean that in those days

the army wouldn't have taken kindly

to the idea of the C.O.'s daughter

having an affair with a mere private.

Or even in these days

to be honest, Mrs. Wainthropp.

Things haven't changed all that much.

No, I suppose not.

So your father knew nothing about all this.

No. Neither of my parents did.

We both went to some lengths

to make sure of that.

Didn't they ever find out?

Oh, yes.

It all came out eventually,

but by then, Doug had vanished.

Vanished?

Yes. I'd been over in London

for a family wedding,

and when I got back, he'd gone,

left the army altogether.

But why?

It seems that for some time

they'd suspected that someone

had been pilfering from the house,

and when a snap inspection

of Doug's billet was called,

his locker was found to be full of stuff.

I see.

Well, my father was devastated.

He was genuinely fond of Doug.

He wouldn't hear of his being

court-martialed,

and so they came to an arrangement.

Such things can generally

be arranged, you know.

Especially if it's going to spare the army

a bit of unsavory publicity.

Yes.

And what was the arrangement.

That no charges would be brought

if Doug agreed to go quietly.

Which presumably he did.

With some alacrity apparently.

And you've not heard from him since.

Not a word, no,

which, as you can imagine, left me

feeling pretty devastated at the time.

I was after all under the impression

that he was as much in love with me

as I was with him.

So why do you think

he would suddenly turn up again after

all these years, Mrs. Langley?

I've really no idea.

Unless of course, he still bears a grudge

for having been kicked out of the army.

But that wouldn't explain why

he would want photographs

of Caroline surely.

Or of you for that matter.

Me?

Oh. Quite a lot of the photographs

were of you.

Really?

Perhaps it's time you had another word

with the police if he really has

got some sort of bee in his bonnet

about your family.

Oh, no. No, no.

There's absolutely no way I'd want

to involve the police now.

In fact, I'd say we've taken this thing

just about as far as we can, wouldn't you?

You want me to drop the investigation?

What I asked you to do was to find out

who was behind all this,

and that's what you've done.

And quite brilliantly, if I may say so,

so really what else is there to investigate?

If you'd just let me have your bill.

If that's what you want,

of course.

Would you like a cup of coffee, Mr. arkwright?

[Door shuts]

Well, well.

The ubiquitous Mrs. Wainthropp.

Not all that ubiquitous, Mr. arkwright.

It's just an impression we like to give.

How did you know it was me by the way?

My own private detective told me you'd had

a word with him, and stealing is

a criminal offense, Mrs. Wainthropp,

even if it's only an old photograph.

If you check with your hotel,

I think you'll find it's been left

for you at reception.

So why don't I make us

a nice pot of tea,

and you can tell me what all this is about,

not that I don't know most of it already.

Oh. You do, do you?

I know all about what went on

over in Germany,

how you got kicked out of the army

for stealing.

I never stole a thing in my life, lady.

I was fitted up for that one!

That's what they all say, isn't it?

Ok. Put the kettle on.

So who fitted you up, Mr. arkwright?

He did of course.

Who?

The man who eventually married her.

Lieutenant colonel Langley.

Yeah. Or rather captain Langley

as he was then.

And why would he want to fit you up?

Why, he'd probably claim he was just doing

his duty as a loyal member of staff

to safeguard his C.O.'s good name,

having found out what was going on

between his daughter and a mere private.

And when did this happen?

On the day she left for england.

I drove her to the airport as usual

and carried her bags in for her.

Langley was just getting back himself

from London at the time

and spotted us in the airport lounge,

saying good-bye,

only, uh, being what you might call

pretty preoccupied with each other at the time,

and we never clocked him...

Unfortunately.

So what did he do about it?

Well, once we got back to the base,

he took me to one side and told me,

"hands off!

For other ranks, strictly verboten."

What did you say to that?

What do you think?

Only, the next thing, the military police

do a snap inspection of my locker,

and suddenly, it's jammed to the gills

with stuff nicked from the house,

stuff I'd never seen before.

You're suggesting Langley planted it?

No, I can't...

But I know I never nicked the stuff.

As far as I was concerned,

the facts spoke for themselves.

So that's what this is about,

clearing your name.

Get real, Mrs. Wainthropp.

I know I have about as much chance

of doing that now as I had then,

which is why I accepted their terms

in the first place.

So why did you come back?

Well, uh, reading this

was what started it, I guess.

Caroline's engagement announcement?

Wouldn't you want to be there, Mrs. Wainthropp,

at your daughter's wedding?

[Piano being tuned]

Girl: 4 and a 5 and 6 and 7.

8 and a 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8.

Hello!

Rachel, I can't manage this.

Girl: 6, 7, and 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7.

I gather you wanted a word, Mrs. Wainthropp.

There have been further developments,

Mrs. Langley, that I think you

should know about.

It is true then?

Caroline is his daughter?

Yes.

Though I only found out myself that I was pregnant

a couple of weeks after he'd gone.

Of course, I was frantic.

Yes, you would have been.

If it ever came out that the so-called

daughter of the regiment

had been put in the pudding club,

as they called it, bu the C.O.'s driver--

and then there Gerald was

at one fell swoop prepared to save

not only the good name of the family

but of the regiment, as well.

Oh, you wouldn't believe how pathetically grateful

we all were, Mrs. Wainthropp.

Oh, I can imagine.

If I'd only know what they'd really done to him.

You do believe Doug then

when he says he wasn't guilty

of pilfering.

It wasn't his style.

There were times when he was honest

almost to the point of naivete.

Is Caroline aware of who

her real father is?

Oh, goodness me, no.

And she mustn't ever find out either.

You see, the real irony is,

she worships her daddy. She really does.

She thinks Gerald is wonderful, in fact.

I see.

He is quite determined then

to make himself known to her.

He was when I last talked to him.

Ok, Geoff, it's all yours.

Oh, uh, Mr. Wainthropp, can I ask you something?

It's, uh, it's personal like.

Not in trouble, are you, Geoffrey?

Is it a loan you want?

No. It's, uh, it's nothing like that.

It's--it's just this problem I have

with girls and that.

Problem?

Yeah, uh, I'm all right

when I get going.

It's just, well, getting started really.

I mean, when you were my age

and you wanted to chat up a girl,

what did you used to say to them?

Well, I suppose,

"do you come here every week?"

"Do you come here every week?" What?

Well, we were usually either

fox-trotting or quick-stepping

down at the local palais.

Right.

I remember one Friday night--

Hetty: Robert?

Your bacon's going brown at the edges.

Oh!

G'day.

I'd like to speak to Mr. arkwright, please.

He's expecting me.

I believe you'll find him in the bar.

Thank you.

Arkwright: The army was the only family

I ever had, Mrs. Wainthropp.

I was in for life and happy to be so

until Langley planted that stuff

in my locker.

And now after all these years,

you want it brought out into the open.

Well, that's one way of looking at it,

I suppose.

In my experience when a person's

intent on vengeance,

everybody ends up getting hurt,

including the avenger.

Besides, what a waste of your life.

Waste of my life?

Well, from what I can see,

you've already spent half of it festering away

over what Langley did to you.

Now you're planning to spend the rest of it

blaming yourself for what you will have done

to Caroline.

Blaming myself?

Ruining the happiest day of her life

just to get your own back on him.

So what am I supposed to do, Mrs. Wainthropp,

the honorable thing, keep my mouth shut

and say nothing?

Let me tell you something

about waste, lady.

My entire life's already been wasted.

You never married then?

Never met anyone I wanted to Mary.

Meanwhile, back in good old england,

the bastard responsible for all this,

he was married to the only girl

I ever wanted

and passing my daughter off

as his own.

You know, all I could think about

when I saw the photograph

of her in that magazine

and realized who she must be...

Was that this beautiful creature

was my daughter, my flesh and blood...

Who I never knew even existed...

And she sure as hell didn't know about me.

And you ask me if I'm bitter!

You bet I am, Mrs. Wainthropp.

And determined to have your pound of flesh

whoever gets hurt,

even if it's your own daughter?

Put it this way.

Why the hell not?

Behold! A giant am I!

Aloft here in my tower!

With my granite jaws I devour.

Penny for your thoughts.

Oh, Mrs. willoughby.

I was wondering why do people go in

for these things?

They enjoy them, I suppose.

Right.

Also, it's an excellent way

of meeting people.

You mean, girls?

Yes.

Rachel looks as if she could do

with some help.

Bit of a problem, is there?

See you later.

Thanks. Thanks.

I see.

Oh!

Do you really think he'll come tonight,

Mrs. Wainthropp?

I have no idea what he'll do, Geoffrey.

Boy: And I cross my arms on my breast,

and all is peace within.

[Door opens]

Aren't you going over there?

Probably later.

Caroline tells me Gerald rang.

Yes. He's flying in on Wednesday.

In good time for the wedding.

Yes.

Something on your mind, is there, dear?

Yes. Doug arkwright.

After all these years?

I was just wondering what would have happened

if he hadn't bee found guilty of theft

and we'd discovered I was carrying his child.

What would you have done then, father?

How do you mean?

If he'd volunteered to make

an honest woman of me himself?

Well, I'm just deeply grateful

we found him out in time,

and it never came to that.

You do realize, Doug has always claimed

that it was Gerald who set up the whole thing

simply to discredit him?

You believe that about your own husband?

Oh, easily, yes.

Having married him, I soon realized

that he'd do almost anything

to get what he wanted

and where he wanted,

but then as a professional soldier

yourself, you'd probably have recognized that,

wouldn't you, father?

He was in love with you, you know.

He was in love with his career!

Almost as much as he was in love

with himself.

You sound as if you hate him.

You mean, you don't realize, father?

How can you possibly know

what arkwright claims or doesn't claim?

Oh, it isn't important.

It isn't even all that important

whether or not it's true anymore.

What is important is just where

you stood in all of this.

Where I stood?

If Doug arkwright was framed,

were you a party to it or not?

You ask me that?

I don't know what to believe anymore.

All I know is that marrying

Gerald Langley was just about

the biggest mistake of my entire life.

20 miserable years, father,

and none of them necessary

if I hadn't been told a pack of lies!

You made it then.

Finally. Yep.

I'm glad.

Hello, Doug.

Hi.

Well, um...

It's been a long time

between drinks.

A lifetime.

Two lifetimes.

So I gather from Mrs. Wainthropp

you've something you want to say to me.

Yes.

Well?

She tells me you're proposing

to make yourself known to Caroline

at the wedding.

That's the idea, yeah.

I just wish you wouldn't, that's all.

Don't you think I have a right to

for God's sakes?

She's my daughter.

But firmly under the impression

that's he's Gerald's daughter.

That's something else the bastard's

stolen from me then.

How could you bring yourself to marry that creep?

What the hell was I supposed to do, Doug?

Settle down to life as an unmarried mother?

Go into a nunnery perhaps?

You weren't there, remember?

I wrote to you!

You what?

Half a dozen letters!

You mean...

You never got them?

No.

Not one of them?

No.

And what did you say to me

in your letters?

Um, if I remember rightly,

what I was usually inquiring about

was how you felt

about eloping with me.

Would you have?

Oh, yes.

So he stole that from me, too?

I'm sorry, Doug. I'm so very sorry.

Well, the important thing is,

has he made you happy?

Oh. He's away a lot.

I have my committees, do good works.

So why do you stay with him?

Caroline's sake principally.

She'll be married soon. What then?

Oh. I don't suppose anything will change.

Not now.

It's a bit late for that.

You're still a lovely woman, dawn,

and I, uh--

I guess you know I'm still in love with you.

Oh, please don't.

Why?

Am I suddenly so repulsive to you?

Oh, you know better than that.

[Bells ringing]

So that's that then?

I shouldn't have thought so, Geoffrey,

not for a minute

if the looks dawn Langley

and Doug arkwright were giving each other

were any sort of guide.

You think they'll get back together, Mrs. Wainthropp?

Well, judging by his good behavior,

I'd say he's still the gentleman

she fell in love with.