All language subtitles for mmm6789

Britannia Mews was the name
of the alley...

...which lay close behind our house
in Albion Place.

When I was a little girl...

I used to sit for hours with
my cousin Alice...

...at my window in the back
of the big house.

We were fascinated by the strange
sights and sounds.

By the people, the stablemen,
and the others who lived there.

I had never set foot in the Mews,
that was strictly forbidden.

Until the day cousin Alice dared me to.

Addie! I didn't really mean to.
You mustn't!

I was never one to refuse a dare.

Why, Miss Adelaide!
Should you be here?

- Good morning, miss.
- Good morning to you.

And where are you bound, miss?

To the end of the Mews and back.

Come back, come back!

Little girl, would you like a penny?

Here's a penny for you.

You should say thank you.

Well? I saw it all.
It served you very well.

- I didn't do a thing to her, she...
- She's a wicked, vicious child.

And you only got what you deserved
for going near her.

Why? She can keep the grounds.

Because she lives in the Mews.

What I'm going to do to punish you
for your deliberate disobedience, Adelaide...

You said I was already punished.
You said I got what I deserved.

Well!
You never think of me.

What do you suppose your father
and mother would think...

...if they knew you'd been into Britannia
Mews while I was looking after you?

We won't tell them.

As the years passed, I could never
get the Mews out of my mind.

Almost as if I could sense how it was
to be bound up with my whole life.

I made it the subject of my
first drawing.

Those were the days when all
well-brought-up young ladies...

...were taught some graceful
accomplishment.

And cousin Alice and I were
very well brought up.

Very gratifying, Miss Culver,
for a first lesson. Quite gratifying.

But since there's always room
for improvement,

even in those of us whose
whole soul is devoted to Art,

let us put this aside for
future comparison.

A remarkable effort, Miss Hambro,
remarkable.

If this is a measure of your full talent,
there is no telling what to expect.

Ah, the hour is of three,
to paraphrase Mr. Browning.

How fleeting the moments pass
amid beauty.

You can't really call our drawings
beautiful, Mr. Lambert.

I was not speaking of your work,
dear young ladies.

Nonetheless, I must not linger.

My aunt, stern mistress that she is,
grudges me these trivial hours.

Isn't giving drawing lessons
your profession, Mr. Lambert?

Please don't misunderstand me,
Miss Culver,

I consider it part of my mission
as an artist...

...to spread the light to sensitive young
ladies of good families such as yourselves,

but I have a higher obligation to put
what is in my heart...

...on canvas for the whole world.

- Good afternoon, Miss Hambro.
- Good afternoon, Mr. Lambert.

Miss Culver.

I'm going to practice three hours every
day and surprise him next week.

You never used to care very much for
drawing when Miss Bryant tried to teach you.

Oh, Miss Bryant.

Mr. Lambert's rather handsome,
isn't he?

Do you think so? I wasn't sure.

It's so hard to get a good idea
of what they're really like...

...unless you look them straight
in the face.

And if you do, heaven knows
what they think.

Try watching him when he's
showing me something.

That's what I did.

Why, that's Mr. Lambert.

- Does he live in the Mews?
- Our old coachman's quarters.

They've been empty ever since
we gave up our coach.

Papa suggested it when he said
he wanted some cheap...

...some inexpensive lodgings.

He lets him use the stables
as studios.

He'd be quite a presentable young man,
I suppose,

if he did something respectable.

Sold shares, you mean,
like Mr. Baker?

There's no reason for you to be nasty
about Mr. Baker, Addie.

Just because he happens
to think I'm pretty.

- Do you love him, Alice?
- I don't know yet.

He hasn't asked me.

I hoped, oh so passionately,
that I was improving.

Wednesday was the important day,

for then, Mr. Lambert would make
his weekly visit.

But one particular Wednesday
my parents were away...

...and cousin Alice was down
with her autumn cold.

So Mr. Lambert was notified
not to come.

Mayn't I come in?

Oh... of course.

Only I thought...
You see, I wasn't expecting...

Didn't Johnny Hambro bring
you a note?

- What note?
- Oh, dear, how could he have missed you?

A message from my cousin Alice.
She has a cold.

Oh, I'm sorry to hear that.

So you see, there won't be
a drawing lesson today.

Oh, I don't understand how
he could have missed you.

I was walking in the gardens all morning,
I expect he came after I left.

But Mama is out too.

Haven't you some drawings
for me to see?

Oh... uh, yes.

Mr. Lambert, we can't have the drawing
lesson. Alice is not here.

Have you really never been alone
with a man before?

Of course I have, dozens of times, but...

Well, always at dances or
picnics where...

Where there were rescuers nearby
if you had to cry for help.

Mr. Lambert, if you think that I'm afraid
that you're going to do me some harm,

it's not that at all.
It's merely...

Merely convention in polite society
which requires a chaperone.

Do you think that's sufficient reason
to send me packing now that I have come?

No. It is rather silly, really.

But I suppose many conventions are.

Will you tell me something, Miss Culver?

What made you decide you should
have drawing lessons?

I didn't decide. Mama and Papa did.
But naturally, I...

One must have some accomplishments.

Yes, I suppose so.

So many young ladies give so much time
to their drawing lessons and music.

I wonder what good it does
them later.

Some of your friends are already
married, I suppose.

I'm not sure that's a very polite
question, Mr. Lambert.

Isn't it? I simply meant I wonder what
they do in the evenings...

...when they're at home with
their husbands.

Do they draw pictures for them,
or sing?

Of course if you think I don't have
any talent,

I shall tell Papa and he can stop paying
you for my drawing lessons.

Of course if we've been
made complete...

Adelaide.

...fools.

I'd rather die than to hurt
your feelings.

I've hated deceiving you.

Why have you?

Can't you guess why?

If I hadn't told a few lies how the deuce
was I to see you?

I'm not the sort of man your mother
would ask to dinner.

By giving you lessons I was certain
of at least once a week.

You're... you're not still angry with me.

Has anyone ever told you
you're very beautiful?

No, and I'm not.

Oh, yes you are. To an artist.

You're like a Holbein.

You're also like a sleeping princess.

Now what ever are you going
to do with me?

- I'm going to tell Mama, of course.
- Oh, no, you wouldn't do that.

When I knew Miss Hambro wouldn't be here
and I thought you would,

nothing could have kept me away.

- But you didn't get the note.
- Oh, yes, I did.

But we can't pretend that you
didn't receive the note.

You can say I insisted on coming
because I didn't want to lose my fee.

And you wouldn't let me stay
because you thought it improper.

It is improper, isn't it?

Very improper.

You'd better go now to make
it convincing.

Yes, I suppose so, deplorable as
the project seems.

But... you haven't decided when
we shall se each other again.

I'll be back Wednesday week,

But Alice's autumn cold never lasts
more than three or four days.

Well, I have lessons every
afternoon and...

...in the morning I have my work.

But couldn't we... there's so much
I want to say.

How would Tuesday morning be?

I shall go for a walk in St. James's Park
after breakfast as far as the bridge.

Very good for one's health,
a morning walk. I shall do likewise.

Goodbye, Adelaide.

Dear Mr. Lambert.

Harold!

Henry.

Henry.

- Good morning, Miss Culver.
- Why, Mr. Lambert!

I said I was going for a walk in the park.

Mama didn't ask any questions,
just told me to be careful.

Adelaide...

Don't talk about last week unless
you want to.

- What do you mean?
- Well, I...

I thought you might want
to forget all about it.

How ever could I forget?

I meant when you came
to think it over, you...

It changed my whole life.

Henry... if you mean that
you regret, I...

Oh, no.
Oh, no, no.

I only meant, my dear,
if you have any regrets,

I'd behave as if anothing
had happened.

I'm not a man to take advantage
of a moment's lightheartedness.

It wasn't lighthearted.

You mustn't think I'm that kind of girl.

I don't know what kind of
a girl you are.

I've never met anyone like you.

Addie.

Mama?

Be seated, Addie. We've some
important news for you.

Your papa is going to retire.

Oh, Papa, I'm so happy for you.

Well, we've been short of space
at the office for some time now.

Seemed to be no solution to the problem
till my partners offered to buy my share.

Naturally it means our income will be less,
but you're a grown-up now...

...and your brother is going
to Cambridge next year.

So we've decided to move
into the country.

Move into the country?
But, Mama, we can't.

Oh, I know you'll miss your
friends, dear.

But you'll soon make others.

Indeed, I sometimes think a girl has better
chances in the country than in town.

Mrs. Horton has found a lovely
place for us in Farnham.

- Farnham?
- A little house called Platt's End.

We shall be moving in a week.

There's a pretty room you can
have at the back.

Well, I do think you might show
a little enthusiasm, Addie.

Mama, Papa, there's something
I want to tell you.

I want to get married.

- Oh-ho!
- Adelaide, my dear!

Do you mean that a young man
is coming to see your papa?

He will if it's necessary, it's...

- It's Mr. Lambert.
- Good heavens!

If you mean that Mr. Lambert has
made you an offer, Adelaide,

then it was a piece of great impertinence.

I don't consider it impertinent,
why should I?

Because he's a young man without any means
and probably without any character.

Just because he isn't famous yet. You can
tell by his face that he's a great artist.

And you must admit that he's very
distinguished-looking.

- Isn't he, Papa?
- How the deuce should I know?

I read the fellow's references,
I don't think I ever looked at his face.

How can he be distinguished-looking when we
know perfectly well he has no distinction?

I'm afraid you must have been
rather silly, my dear.

But as, of course, he won't come here again
and we shall very soon have left town,

the best thing we can do is
to forget all about it.

- Papa...
- You're not to bother your father.

He has quite enough on his
mind as it is.

Papa, I'm over 21 and I'm going to marry
Mr. Lambert because I love him.

- Nonsense, Addie.
- Adelaide!

You're not to see Mr. Lambert again.

- You're treating me like a child.
- You behave like a child.

Most girls have their fits of silliness.

And the drawing master
is usually the object.

But, Mama, this is different.

My dear, in a year's time when
you're properly married,

you'll see that all this is
extraordinarily commonplace

One might almost say vulgar.

I love Mr. Lambert and he loves me.

And we're going to be married.

- Bertha, dear...
- Sit down.

Oh.

Oh, Henry.

Oh, Henry, I should never have come.

This is the wickedest thing I've
ever done.

Dear girl, it was your own idea.

You said in your note something
terrible had happened.

Oh, it has, it's just dreadful.

We're moving into the country.
Mama's found a house in Farnham.

A place called Platt's End.

Oh, that does make it a bit
awkward, doesn't it?

It would do us no good to speak
to your father before you go.

I shan't be able to show him
my future by then.

I've already spoken to Papa.

You...

What did he say?

Nothing, really. He was quite
taken aback, of course.

Didn't he forbid you to see me again?

Didn't he propose some sort
of violence against me?

Papa isn't like that at all. I tell you,
he didn't say either yes or no.

Perhaps I should have a crack at him,
feel him out, see how he takes to me.

No, no, I think it would be better if we
got married first and then talk to him.

Married?

Well, that's impossible.

- Don't you love me, Henry?
- Oh, you're the sweetest...

Oh, then that's all that matters.
We'll be married.

My dear girl...

You must listen very carefully.

It's... it's not an easy thing
for a man to...

...to bear his soul.

You're going to disillusion me now,
aren't you?

No.

I'm going to tell you all the reasons
why we cannot be married.

First, my income from drawing
lessons is hardly enough to...

- I have a hundred pounds a year.
- Have you?

We could live on that for six
months, couldn't we?

In Britannia Mews yes.

That would give you time to finish
your academy painting.

Adelaide, please, I must go on.

Didn't you notice something strange
about me when we met just now,

that I was trembling a little?

You weren't really. I upset you
by telling you that I was frightened.

No, I was shaky.

Shaky because I'd had about
four drinks too many.

I don't know what you mean.

I drink too much, I get drunk.

I mean...

If you walk through the Mews
and listen to my enemies,

they'll tell you I drink like a fish.

They'll tell you I'm no good.

I'm not interested in low gossip.

I know enough of what's true
about you.

And I can guess the rest.

But you don't know what
the Mews is like.

You don't know what it means
to live in the slum.

It hasn't hardened you as much
as you'd like me to believe.

Ordinary men can't rise above
their backgrounds.

But great artists can.

We'll be married.

- We'll be married.
- By special license.

That's the best way.
I looked it up in Whitaker.

You get it at the vicar general's office
in Doctors' Commons between ten and four.

- Ten and four.
- Oh!

We should get it the day before
I'm supposed to move.

Then I can start for Farnham with
Mama and Papa,

make an excuse at the station...

and meet you at the registrar's office.

Did you happen to find out
how much it costs?

Three pounds seven and six-pence.

Isn't that a small price to pay
for heaven?

Heaven.

Scrubbing floors was one of the things
I hadn't thought of there in the park.

In those first few weeks of marriage...

I cooked and I cleaned and I furnished
our home from little odds and ends.

It was worth it.

Our hopes were high, because Henry
was hard at work on his masterpiece.

I even posed for him when he
wanted me to.

Don't her back don't give up?
She's been cleaning ever since she moved in.

You might find an example in her.

Look who's talking that lives
in a pigsty.

- Good morning, Mrs. Blazer.
- My name's Harriet O'Keefe.

There's them that call me the Blazer.
But not ladies don't!

I can just hear your
mother saying...

...a young matron must establish
relations with her neighbors.

Don't let me disturb you, dear. I just
came down to get some clean water.

Don't stand on that. The cover's
not strong enough.

- But it's hard for...
- I'll do it.

You'd think you'd realize a basket
like that is not made to stand on.

You haven't told me what's in it
that's so valuable.

Just relics. Forget them.

You make me feel like bluebeard's wife.

Is there some secret in your life
that I mustn't know about?

Dolls! Is that what you've been
making all the fuss about?

They're not dolls, they're puppets.

Those happen to be works of art.

Created by your husband.

Like them?

It must have taken months to make.

Two years, in Paris.

Those were the fullest, most creative
years of my life.

I was young then. Young, and gay,
and full of hope and in...

...in Paris.

Anyway, these are the only claim
to fame I have today.

There's a complete set of Moli�re
characters here.

Fame.

Are you going to get a Punch and Judy
cart like the man across the road...

...and do shows for children?

I'm not a puppeteer.

And even if I were,

nobody in England would
appreciate them any more than you.

I'm almost finished upstairs
if you need me to pose.

I told you I'd call you if I needed you. You
mustn't hurry me or prod me in any way.

That's the death blow to the
creative impulse.

I'm sorry, Henry.

But it is discouraging to see the days go by
and you're no further along with this.

I've been considering a basic
change in composition.

Perhaps two figures are not enough
for a work of this size.

Possibly you should have a lady
in waiting or something.

Another change?

Yes, another change.

I can't visualize the way I should
being cooped up in here like this.

I think I shall go for a stroll and see
if I can get some fresh inspiration.

Do try to be inspired as quickly
as possible, Henry.

I can't help it. Every time I see her
she frightens me.

Every village has its witch.

The Sow is ours.

Shall the old one carry that pail
upstairs for you, Mrs. Lambert?

Thank you, but it's not heavy.

In those days I rarely left the Mews.

Until one day an urgent letter arrived from
my brother Treff and cousin Alice...

asking that I meet them
at Grummol's for tea.

It was the first time I had heard from any
member of my family since my marriage.

Of course Henry has more connections
than he knows what to do with.

But sometimes he turns them all down
just to paint something of his own choosing.

Oh, thank you.

It's too bad, Alice, that neither
of our husbands could be here today.

Though I suppose they don't have
very much in common.

Likely not. I only know my brother-in-law
from what I've heard about him, of course.

But I don't think he sounds like
Freddie's sort.

I never dreamed things could turn out
so that you and I couldn't be friends.

It isn't exactly ordained from heaven
that we can't be, you know.

Oh, Addie, I can't come calling on you.
Freddie is so nervous.

Always afraid that I'll catch something.

We'd be delighted to see you
at our house.

Mama and Papa are terribly anxious
for you to visit us too.

With my husband?

My sister always had a habit of coming
very directly to the point.

It's about time somebody did,
don't you think?

Ever since I got your note I could smell
a family conference at the back of it.

What does Mama want?

- For you to come home.
- Get a divorce, you mean?

You know perfectly well Mama wouldn't
think of doing such a thing.

But it's quite possible for a woman
to leave her husband decently if...

Well, if the marriage isn't working out.

You can tell Mama that mine
is working out perfectly.

I'd be happier just to see the look
on her face.

Oh, by the way, I'm supposed
to give you this teletype...

...they've take of the house at Farnham.

Mama remembered that you
hadn't seen the place.

Well, I suppose this is rather the end
of the party, don't you think?

I know I should be getting home.

Goodbye, Alice. I think you've made it
quite clear how you feel.

But I'm not so sure about you, Treff.

Well, it wasn't my idea at all
this whole thing.

I didn't go for it a bit.

Shall I see you again?

Oh, now, Addie.

You know I'm not my own master
when I'm down from Cambridge and...

Well, I very rarely come up
to London anyway...

Hello.

- Where's my husband?
- Went out for a drink, he said.

Been gone for hours.

How good of you to wait for him.

Especially when he's been
working you so hard.

I don't mind, dearie.
I think he's fun.

How much does he pay you to model?

He don't pay me. I like modeling.

I think you should be paid.

Here's two shillings for you.

Little girl, here's a penny for you.

Remember saying that when we was kids?

- Take it!
- I done nothing for you then.

And I ain't done nothing for you now.

Take it!

Henry, I will not have wood chips
in the flat too.

Take your useless puppets downstairs
where they belong.

Little wife. Little home.

You don't see the joke, do you?

They do down at the Red Lion.

You 've been talking about me
at the Red Lion?

I told them you were the best
little wife in the world.

Am I?

Henry, I want to leave the Mews.

Go ahead. I told you not to come
in the first place.

Tried my best to stop you,
but you would do it.

I must have been mad.

That's what I thought.

I never was more surprised
at anything in my life.

Henry.

I wasn't talking about us.

I was talking about... about this place,
about the Mews.

It's the same thing.

You mean...

Didn't you expect me to marry you?

Of course not.

If every girl I kissed expected
to marry me...

Hm, what's this?

"Drink No More".

How much of this stuff have
you given me?

You can see for yourself.

I noticed the coffee tasted worse than
usual. I suppose this is the answer.

Colorless and odorless, it's guaranteed.

My dear, if you had told me in advance,
I could have saved you a half a crown.

I'll get rid of it for you.

A little experiment, my dear.

I shall now drink an equal
quantity of gin.

Addie.

Addie.

Why did you marry me?

Because I loved you.

And I wanted to help you.

But now I see that I was foolish.

And you don't love me.

Love not stronger than death
and all that?

I don't know.
I don't know what I feel.

Shame.

Henry, tell me the truth.

Did you make love to all
of your pupils?

Certainly not. Some of them
were positively repulsive.

But...

But that first day when you came
and Alice had her cold,

it was because you were
in love with me.

Wasn't it?

The truth, Henry!

All right, all right, you shall
have the truth.

You had it then.

It was what you told your mother.

I came because I could see no reason
why I should lose my fee.

I couldn't afford to lose two pupils
and all of this came of it.

It was all your doing, Adelaide,
not mine.

If you find the truth bitter,
my dear, don't ask for it.

I'll wind the clock.

Household is always winding clocks.

You didn't mean that, Henry,
you're drunk.

Of course I'm drunk, my dear,
but I meant it.

In vino veritas.

Open the door.

Open up. A wife has no right
to lock the door on her husband.

Mr. and Mrs. Lambert occupied
separate rooms.

I see you didn't wait for me
for breakfast.

Nor for luncheon.

A wife should wait for her husband.

You've changed, Addie. You're getting
hard, it doesn't become you.

Read this.

I can't without a magnifying glass.

I had to write small to fit it
all in the card.

I'll read it to you.

Mr. and Mrs. Henry Lambert announce
their drawing lessons...

...will reopen on July 1st at studio
number 2, Britannia Mews.

Hours two to six p.m.

- Terms, two guineas a course of six lessons.
- Now, what's this all about?

Henry, you're going to have
to take pupils again in the studio.

I'll look after them for you. All you have
to do is walk around and criticize.

Addie, you're out of your mind.

If I ever see another fool
with a drawing board again, I...

I won't be responsible for
my actions.

But Henry, we've got to do something.

You haven't looked at your
drawing in months.

The only work you've done at all
is on those ridiculous puppets.

I've got less than ten pounds
left in the bank.

Am I going to get breakfast here
or do I have to go to the Red Lion?

Henry, listen to me.

Why shouldn't you try?

You're young, we're both young.

Are we never to hold our
heads up again?

Henry!

You said I've grown cold.

But I had to, I couldn't endure
this place.

I've had to shut myself out from everybody
and everything I ever knew.

Not even answer my mother
when she writes to me.

The more fool you. If you did,
you might get some money from her.

Oh! Come quickly!

Quick, he's fallen down!

He must have fallen from the terrace.

Did somebody knock him down?

Stand back

Your husband?

Yes.

Your name?

Mrs. Henry Lambert.

Can you make any statement
as to how it happened?

- Did he fall or was he pushed?
- Silence there!

I seen it all.

Your name?

Mrs. Mouncey, number 9.
Rags and old clothes.

You saw it, eh?

On me oath.
I was in me door way opposite.

I seed them standing, he pushed passed
her and missed his footing.

I'd have been down sooner,
but I move heavy.

Accidental death it was.

Poor soul.

Go to the station, tell them to send
an ambulance and a sergeant.

Move on, lad.

Move on.

Mrs. Lambert, ma'am, if you wish to
go indoors, I'll...

She didn't ought to be left alone.

Can you send for any relation?

- I have no relations.
- No, but she has friends.

I'm her friend, ain't I, dearie?

It's cold dearie.
Come to see what I can do.

Make you a nice cup of tea, eh?

No, thank you.

I got me papers just now, I did,
for the coroner's hearing.

I suppose he'll do a lot for us.

The summons to the inquest, you mean?
Yes, I did.

Naughty business.

But don't you worry, dearie.
I'll make it sound all right for you.

Why should I worry?
It was an accident.

It's the talk.

I'm your friend, I am.
Going to help you out of your trouble.

I've got too many troubles of me own,
it's hard to think of anything else.

It's very kind of you to be
concerned about me.

I appreciate it.

The pains in me chest, oh God,
you couldn't know, dearie.

Or that bed.

Can I have a doctor to ever
look at me poor old heart...

...in all these rags and old clothes?

Oh, no.

I'm sorry, I wish there were
something I could do for you.

Two months behind in the rent I am.

Going to be thrown into the streets.

I have a little money in the bank
that I don't need now.

I should like to write you a check
for five pounds if I may.

Why, it's the dearest, sweetest
thing I ever heard.

Right in the middle of your own
loss and misery.

An angel from heaven, Mrs. Lambert.
That's how I'll think of you from now on.

An angel from heaven.

Heaven was gone.

The coroner wrote it's end
when he closed the inquest...

...with the verdict of accidental death.

Something in me had died too.

Now I could only think of...

...of home.

- You've been packing up.
- Yes, I'm going home.

I did want to see you,
Mrs. Mouncey.

There are some things down in the
coach house, they may be of use.

I should like you to have them.

Some old clothes and books.

If there's anything up here...
take what you like.

In fact, why don't you stay
and look around while I go for a cab?

Come here!

I'm sorry, but there's so little time
if I'm to catch my train.

You ain't going nowhere's,
you're staying here.

Staying here?

I've grown a fancy to you.

That's very kind of you.

A real fancy.

If I hadn't took such a fancy to you,
would I have said what I did say in the box?

If you mean what I think you do,

you're accusing yourself of perjury.

Do you know what the penalty
for that is?

Better than being hanged
by the neck till you're dead.

You leave perjury alone and take it
as I done you a good turn.

All you did was tell the truth.

If I'd have told the truth, dearie...

If I had told how I seed you push
your poor husband to his death.

My husband fell.

That's what I told them.

But you know and I know
you killed him.

That isn't true.
And nobody would believe you.

They'll believe me right enough...

when I show them the check
what you gave me...

...the very same day you done him in.

What do you want?

Ten bob a week.

Eight.

Ten.

Very well.

But not because I have anything
to be afraid of.

Because I'm grateful to you for...

...for your kindness.

I'll send you ten shillings every week.

Not send it, dearie,
give it like now, here.

My dear Mrs. Mouncey,

I can't possibly come up to London every
week to bring you ten shillings.

You'll have no call to.
You're staying here.

I was never one for travelling,

but I can find me way to Surrey
if I has to.

Who knows your people might
have room for me too?

From hereon to hell we'll
not be parted.

Just you say, dearie, which it's to be.

Have you made up your mind yet?

- William.
- Yes, my dear.

I'm going to London to see Adelaide.

- Adelaide?
- Yes. I had a dream about her last night.

So I looked up the calendar and last week
was her third wedding anniversary.

- Leather!
- What?

The third wedding anniversary
the gift must be of leather.

Oh.

It's time we gave her a last
chance to come home.

Yes, dear.

At least she should know
we're ready to forgive her...

...at any moment she decides
to leave her husband

Give her my love.

Wait for me, please.

- You wanted to see someone?
- My daughter, Mrs. Lambert.

- Is she at home, do you know?
- Moved out a year ago.

Oh, dear, I hadn't heard.

You don't happen to know their
present address, I suppose.

She didn't leave none. Cleared out
sudden-like with narry a word to anybody.

How could she?

Thank you very much.

Mrs. Mouncey.

Yes, dearie?

Were you talking to somebody down here?

Nothing to bother your head about.

Still, if anybody was to come
looking after you,

I'll take it you don't want no
interfering with.

No, I wouldn't.

Here, take these books back to the shop
on Spring St. and fetch me two more.

Ask the woman to choose
them for me.

Go fetch your own books,
I ain't your servant.

- I pay you, don't I?
- Not to run your errands, you don't.

I pay you ten shillings a week
and I expect some service for it.

Here!

All right, you old fool, do as you like.

But it's not so likely you'll find anybody
to pay you as much as I do...

- ...and ask so little for it.
- Hold on there.

No call to talk so nasty among friends.
I'll do it for you this once.

You'll do it as many times I tell you
if you know what's good for you.

Not so nasty, I says!

I don't mind doing you a favor
now and then.

But it ain't on account
of your paying me.

Why then?

I'll tell you, dearie. I'm a woman
what's never had a child.

I got one now.
You.

I'd as soon be mothered
by a hippopotamus.

Get along with you and do as you're told.

And on your way back past the Red Lion
bring back four-penny worth of gin.

And so I became part of
Britannia Mews.

As much a part of it as the Sow,
the Blazer and all the rest of them.

I forgot how to hope.

And as time passed, I knew that I would
be part of the Mews for the rest of my life.

You don't there, are you hurt?

If you're not hurt, why don't
you get up?

I beg your pardon! I had no idea
there were ladies present.

May I call you a cab?

No.

No, thank you, I...
I don't need a cab.

Will you tell me, please.

How do you propose to get home?

This is my home. This is where I live,
here in Britannia Mews.

Please forgive me.

You can't imagine how extraordinarily
interesting it is...

...to find someone like you here.

My name is Lauderdale,
Gilbert Lauderdale.

- What's the matter?
- Nothing.

My name is Mrs... Lambert.

How do you do?

You remind me of someone I once knew.

Oh, I'm always reminding people
of someone else.

I suppose I have no personality
of my own.

You know, in this light the Mews
is quite picturesque.

That's what my husband used to say.

He passed away two years ago.

You oughtn't to live here alone.

I have no choice.

When there's, as you say, no choice,
you take the first step and the rest follows.

I am the sot you see before you
because I had no choice.

- You're not drunk now.
- Of course I am.

I have a remarkable faculty for
appearing sober.

When I was an actor...

I used to start a scene stewed,
and finish in full command.

However my managers did not
think it good enough.

Shall I go on with my life?
There's hardly any more to tell.

Please go on.

Before that, of course,
I studied for the law and...

...at the moment I address envelopes
at two and six per thousand.

My feet may betray me,
but my hand remains steady.

And you...

You married unwisely.

Now something has happened to prevent
you returning to your family.

You have the dignity of a woman
with a pitifully small income...

...and you don't drink much.

How did you know that?

That you drink a little because
of your humane attitude...

...when I was thrown out of the pub.

You're a most remarkable woman,
Mrs. Lambert.

What a horrible creature.

She's known as the Sow.

She's hateful.

See you in the morning, dearie.
Monday.

May I come in for a moment?

That's the first time in three years
anyone opened a door for me.

I was just going to make some tea.

- Would you like some?
- Oh, no, thank you.

It's much too late for a social call
even in Britannia Mews.

I... I just wanted a glimpse inside.

Hm-hmm.
It matches.

- Matches what?
- It matches you.

Well ordered, unpretentious,
right to the point.

And cheerful in the face
of heavy odds.

We have moments, my flat and I,
when we're not so cheerful.

The mystery to me is why
you stay here at all.

Well... may I come again?

- If you wish.
- Thank you.

Well, good night.

Mr. Lauderdale, where
do you live?

There's a sheltered bench
by Blackfriar's Bridge...

...to which I have a squatter's right.

If you like, you may sleep in the
coach house downstairs.

I'm sure it will be every bit
as comfortable as Blackfriar's Bridge.

What beautiful puppets.

My... my husband's hobby.

I suppose I should have given them away
to some children's home or something, but...

...somehow I never have.

But my dear Mrs. Lambert,
these are superb.

Give them away? Look at this.

If you mean that they represent a great
waste of time, then I'll agree with you.

Mr. Lauderdale,

you said you'd been a barrister.

I wonder could you give me
some legal advice.

Oh, I'm full of advice.
I can't guarantee it'll be sound.

The only client I ever had
is still in prison.

Writes me letters all the time.
Very unfriendly.

This is about what I suppose
one would call blackmail.

That woman?

Yes, the Sow.

Her name is Mrs. Mouncey.

Hello, dearie.

Didn't know you had company, dearie.

- I'll come back later.
- No, Mrs. Mouncey, don't go.

There's something I want to say to you.
You've come for your ten shillings and...

- You want him to hear?
- Certainly.

And I don't.

He's a stranger to me and I don't
do business before strangers.

What are you doing here anyway?
Who is he?

He's a witness to the fact
that I am no longer...

...going to pay you ten
shillings a week.

I'm also a lawyer.

And I've informed Mrs. Lambert she can
prosecute you for blackmail.

A lawyer? Well, he looks like a lawyer,
don't he?

Nasty little sponger, that's what he is.

Stayed here all night, didn't he?

What kind of name's that going
to give the neighborhood?

Didn't you understand what
I said, Mrs. Mouncey?

Preying on your innocence, Adelaide,
that's what he's doing.

I hope you haven't told him nothing
you didn't ought to.

I told him everything.

You's lucky you got me
to look after you.

I bet you! Taking advantage of a poor
sweet young widow...

...that doesn't have her eyes open
to men and their wicked ways.

You heard what Mrs. Lambert said.
She'll pay you no more money.

And you don't dare go to the police.
She knows that.

We're letting you off lightly,
now get out.

You've been took in by
a scoundrel, dearie.

Very well.

Mrs. Lambert will prosecute
you for blackmail.

Prosecute me?

Well, I've been like a slave to her
running her errands,

treating her like a blooming duchess...

on account of there being a warm
spot in me heart...

...for them that is alone in this
wicked world.

Are you going to leave?

No, I'll not leave!
Never, never!

I'll kill you first, I will!

Don't!

I must. It's the only thing
she understands.

Now get out of here.

If you bother Mrs. Lambert again,
I'll break every bone in your body,

if you have any.

Like me own daughter.

I'm sorry it had to be so rough.

I'll always be grateful to you,
it's as if you'd saved my life.

As a matter of fact, you have.

Yes. You can go home now,
can't you?

It's all I've dreamed about
for three years.

Going home.

Living in the country,
waking up in a pretty room.

Doing the flowers.

Even going calling with Mama
came to seem pleasant.

If I could find more remunerative
employment,

I might be able to afford this flat
after you've gone.

I've become attached to the
Mews overnight.

I wonder if... if it's possible for me
to pick up where I was again.

If it's ever possible for anybody.

You wouldn't think of staying
on here, would you?

Yesterday I'd have said that there
was nothing more in the world...

I wanted than to leave the Mews,
and now...

Suddenly I don't think I want
to go at all.

Perhaps I'm no longer fit
for ordinary pleasant living.

There's nothing ordinary about you.

The curse of it is I'm already married.

Oh, she's in America now, I haven't
seen her for years.

It only lasted ten months.

If I did keep the flat, you could still
sleep downstairs in the coach house.

As a lodger I think I should tell you.

Addressing envelopes is not
very profitable.

If I make ten shillings a week,
I do very well.

Well, then you can give me five and I
won't be out of pocket for your food.

Or, as I said, I might get
something better.

Especially if I stop drinking.

Oh, I shan't expect that.
But, if you do drink badly,

of course I shall turn you out.

But I don't expect you
to stop drinking.

You know, if you tried to stop me,
I should undoubtedly get worse.

But because of your attitude
I shall probably stop.

There's one thing.

I don't care what other people think.

But I do care a great deal about
my own self-respect.

In such a...

such an arrangement as we are
proposing there is a danger.

We must be very careful not to become
too fond of each other.

I'm deuced if I can guarantee
not becoming fond of you.

but I will promise to keep
from showing it.

That's what I mean.

Priceless, superlative.
Unique.

Ah, Tartuffe, the hypocrite.

One sees the gaelic touch, wit
and workmanship.

Oh, Adelaide, this is Mr. Bly.
This is Mrs. Lambert.

Madame.

Mr. Bly is unquestionably the most skillful
puppet master in the three kingdoms.

We're very honored to have you call.

You are honored, no, no.

The privilege of inspecting these masterly
creations has quite made my day.

The puppets, you mean?
I suppose they are very nice.

My husband thought a great
deal of them.

That I know already.

Mr. Lambert has the enthusiasm which is
the sine qua non of successful manipulation.

We're going to start stringing
them at once.

How long do you think it
will take, Mr. Bly?

Oh, weeks, possibly months.

And before you're competent to operate them
by yourself, I daresay several years.

For heaven's sake, Gilbert, don't you
start wasting your time on those things.

You don't need to worry, my dear. We shall
only work on them in the evenings.

In the morning I shall be back
on my desk addressing circulars.

Well, in that case...

Gilbert, could you spare me
a few moments?

Certainly. Would you excuse us?

I was about to take my leave.
Madame.

- Mr. Lambert.
- Thank you again for coming, Mr. Bly.

We'll start the work at
your convenience.

Perhaps I shouldn't have surprised
you about the puppets.

- Nothing surprises me anymore.
- Not even my being called Mr. Lambert?

It's very logical from their
point of view.

Much easier talking about the
Lamberts in number 2...

...than about Mrs. Lambert
and Mr. Lauderdale.

Much more proper too.

And you're still just as deeply
concerned with what's proper...

...as Miss Culver of Albion Place
ever was.

Yes, I know.

That's the spirit, Mr. Lambert,
now you're getting it.

- One must relax the fingers.
- I think you're quite right, Mr. Bly.

I've been too tense.

Oh, Adelaide, look.
Isn't it wonderful?

Good heavens. You sound as if
you'd been knighted.

This is infinitely more important
than knighthood.

Don't trip, old fellow.
A little more life.

M. Pierre, may I present Mrs. Lambert.

How do you do, Pierre?

"Permit me to say I have never been
more charmed at the appearence of a lady."

- "Bon soir, ch�rie."
- Oh, bon soir yourself.

Mr. Bly, would you like
some hot chocolate?

Thank you very much,
Mrs. Lambert.

"This is hardly what you would call
a cordial reception...

...after ten years in a dusty basket."

"Exactly who is this lady?"

She's just an old grouch
that lives upstairs...

...and I don't think she likes people
like you and me.

"I see what you mean, but can't you
appreciate my fine clothing?"

"My noble features, my very
obvious workmanship?"

Look at my shoe. Perfect!

And note my flexibility. I'm as agile
as any gentleman in the court.

And you're also to be admired
for your modesty.

You're doing very well, darling.

But aren't you afraid of tiring
the little gentleman?

Well, one does come to look
upon them as little people.

Well, I think the time has come
for serious work, Mr. Lambert.

You have the basic understanding...

...and as soon as you can acquire
your polish, sooner we can start business.

You're right, I'll resign my job
and give my full time to them now.

I think you're wise. I'll call in my carpenter
friend and see what can be done.

It will be small but...

I wish I could share your confidence.

Good night, Mr. Bly.

I'm sure we could all do with
some sleep.

I think we'll call it an evening.

I know we'll make a success of you,
you little devils.

Britannia Mews had never known
anyone like Gilbert before.

We caught his enthusiasm and
began to work.

All of us.

I am Tartuffe, the hypocrite.

I am Elmire, the wife of Orgon.

I am Orgon, the jealous husband.

People began to come.

First, people from the neighborhood,

then sightseers and curiosity
seekers from all over London.

Overnight we became famous.

And the Mews began to wash its face
and scrub behind its ears.

One, please.

No charge for blood relatives
of the management.

- Addie!
- Shh!

But... Oh, Addie!

- How are you, Treff?
- It's... it's wonderful!

Now, ancient witch, your hour
has come at last.

And all your evildoings in the past...

No, I'm hanged if I'm going
to waste poetry on her.

Be off! Skidaddle! Get out!

The waiting and the wandering are past.

Rose of my heart, I find you
here at last.

Gilbert, dear, this is my brother Treff.

Well, this is a surprise.

Gilbert?

I thought... It seemed to me I
remembered his name was Henry.

It, um...

It was, it's, um...

It's rather complicated to explain.

Not that I mind, you understand.

It's just that when one's grown used
to thinking of a relation by one name...

I didn't know you ever thought of us
at all at Platt's End.

Oh, come now, Addie. After all you're
the only sister I've got.

And although this is the first time
I've actually met Mr. Lambert...

You may call him Gilbert.

It's, um... it's his middle name.
Henry Gilbert Lambert.

We both decided that we
liked it better.

Perhaps you don't consider
names important,

but I can assure you I feel quite a
different person from Henry Lambert.

Really? I had no idea this was
your theater, you know, Addie.

Mama had some notion that you'd
left the Mews years ago.

Did you enjoy the performance, Treff?

Enjoy it? I was thrilled.
No less. Thrilled to the very marrow.

It's a remarkable achievement
combining a...

...a classical art form with a
commercial success.

Well, at least the whole act does give one
the impression of a commercial success.

We've done rather well so far.

There's no telling how long
the vogue will last, of course.

Forever. If you employ someone who knows
how to stimulate the public interest.

You know. Do things to keep
the enterprise in the limelight.

Like Barnam, the American circus
chap, only more refined.

And just what are your qualifications
for such a job, Treff?

Me?

Well, as a matter of fact,
now that you mention it,

there are quite a few other fellows from
my college who work on various periodocals.

That's what you need.
Someone who knows their way around,

to act sort of agent between
you and the press.

- What ever would Mama and Papa say?
- Oh, I don't give a hang.

Besides, they needn't know it's
you I'm working for.

Well, not at first anyway.

I must get away from Platt's End, Addie.

They just don't let you lead
a life of one's own.

What do you think, dear?

Is the Puppet Theater in need
of some refined exploitation?

The best way to decide that
is to give it a trial.

It'll cost you very little to start.
Almost nothing in fact if you, um...

...had somewhere you could put me up.

I don't require anything fancy,
of course.

I could sleep down here, Addie,
if I had an extra bed.

I'm afraid that's one thing
we can't provide.

You could find some lodgings
close by and...

...whatever they cost, we'll pay as part
of your expenses.

Oh, in that case, it's very generous
of you. I hope I'll live up to it.

Well, I promised I'd meet my friend
at the Caf� Royale.

Why don't you come by and meet
us tomorrow, Treff,

and we'll make plans for
your new career.

I'll do that.

By the way, you're no relation to
the Geoffrey Lamberts, are you?

Geoffrey? Possibly a distant cousin.

I'm afraid I haven't studied the
Lambert family as much as I should.

- Good night.
- Good night. Good night, Addie.

Good night, Treff.

Poor Treff, he really had his
heart set on your bed.

And I'd like nothing better than to have
been able to give it up to him.

We're as much married as it's right
for us to be.

Sometimes your idea of what's right
is a little more rigid than mine.

You're an angel, my dear. It's very
ungrateful of me to wish you weren't.

Good night, my dearest love.

Good night.

And so, Treff went to work for us.

With the help of his school friends,

his youthful enthusiasm produced
amazing results.

This week's edition won't be on sale until
tomorrow, but they gave a copy in advance.

Do you really think our faces are going
to bring in any business?

By all means!

The personalized type is invaluable
for mass appeal.

For prestige we've got to attract
the more intelectual critics like, er...

Bernard Shaw of the Saturday Review.

Treff will be dreaming of a
world tour next.

Oh, why not?
As a matter of fact...

Enough. It's much too late for such
youthful enthusiasm.

- Good night, Treff.
- Good night, Gil.

- Good night, my dear.
- Good night, dear.

Good night, Treff.

Addie.

May I come up for a moment?

Well, I am rather tired,
but if it's important.

I think it's rather important.

Very well.

What is it, Treff?

Something about Gilbert and me?

You know deuced well it is.

I suppose I should have explained it
to you all from the start.

There isn't any explanation that
can make it right.

I spoke to the vicar about you
when I was home last weekend.

And he said you were making
a mockery of marriage.

You spoke to the vicar about us?

Not by name.

I just said I knew a married couple...

...where one lived upstairs and
the other down.

He said if it happened in his parish,
he'd have one private talk with them...

...and then blast the whole subject
wide open in a sermon.

You mean that's what you've
been leading up to?

That Gilbert and I occupy
separate rooms?

Don't you love him, sis?

I love him with all my heart.

Then it's his idea!

Well, I have a right as your brother
to tell him what I think about it.

Wait, Treff.

Gilbert doesn't have a room downstairs
because he wants it that way.

Then why?

- Well...
- You're contradicting yourself, you know?

I suppose I am.

Gilbert!

Whoever's at fault in this thing, we've got
to put an end to it straight away.

Don't you ever want to make it up
with Mama and Papa?

Of course I do.

Well, what do you think
their attitude would be...

...if they knew the truth about
how you're living?

I don't imagine they'd like it.

Of course they wouldn't.

Gilbert, I've taken it upon myself...
I think it's my duty...

...to put an end to this nonsense
between you and Adelaide.

Treff has a very keen sense
of morality.

Well,

whatever you may have
discovered about us,

you ought to know your sister
well enough to know that...

...nothing has happened to cause you
the slightest concern.

It's not that, dear,
not that at all.

It's just that Treff feels...
he feels...

I'm sure you can settle this much more
easily between yourselves.

I'm not even concerned with
who's to blame.

But all I ask is that an intolerable
situation not be allowed to continue.

Good night.

- So!
- Oh, it's you.

You sound rather like a comic
opera villain, you know.

Do you care to explain where
you're going and why?

I... I suppose I'll have to.

Treff, my boy,

you're still quite a young man.

and there are certain aspects of conjugal
life of which you're still unaware.

- Quite properly, of course.
- Are you in love with my sister?

Madly and...

Madly and irrevocably.

The fault nevertheless is still all mine.

Treff, I'll tell you my secret.

I snore.

- Well, so does my father, but...
- Not only that.

But I have nightmares, none of your
ordinary, passive nightmares, mind you,

but I scream and kick and thrash out
with my clenched fists.

Once in school I hit another boy so hard
one night I knocked out two of his teeth.

How ghastly.

Fortunately my father was a dentist.

But since he passed away
ten years ago,

I've had to take the most
rigid precautions.

I've made the most frightful
ass of myself.

I... I hope you'll forgive me.

Of course.

I should have confided in you
before but...

now that everything's been explained,
hadn't you better...

...be making your way back
to your lodgings?

Yes.

Unless of course, owing to the lateness
of the hour, you'd care to share my bed.

Oh, no, thank you, I have only
a short walk back.

Probably the safer course.

Well, again, good night.

Good night.

Thank you, my dear.

Good afternoon, Gilbert.

Oh, blazes.

I'm sorry, my dear, but this is
Mrs. Lauderdale.

Mrs. Lambert.

My dear, I want you to know
right away...

...that I just don't blame you
for a thing.

You've been victimized just like every
other woman since Mother Eve.

Would you like a cup of tea,
Mrs. Lauderdale?

No, thank you, Mrs. Lambert.

I think I'll just catch my breath
from those stairs of yours if I may.

Have you just returned from
America, Millie?

Yes, a month last Tuesday.

I didn't know where to find you not having
any idea you'd changed your name.

Then I saw your picture in the
Illustrated News.

Did you come all the way
to England to find Gilbert?

He deserted me, Mrs. Lambert.

I want you to know what sort of a life that
means for a respectable God-fearing woman.

Especially one whose father
died in bankruptcy.

You seem to have born up rather well,
Millie, judging from your appearence.

Thank you, darling.

I'll say this for him, he's never without
a pretty speech to cheer you up.

Now that the compliments are over
we can face our problem.

What do you have in mind, Millie?

I assume you have something in mind.

Gilbert, there's no reason to...

Cynics to the core, all of them,
my dear.

There isn't any problem to face,
is there?

Except for this poor woman
you've deceived and betrayed.

He hasn't deceived me at all,
Mrs. Lauderdale.

He's hidden nothing from me.

Oh, I must say that changes
the complexion of things.

If you took up knowingly with a married
man, you can hardly expect...

Never mind that, Millie.

There's nothing to reproach
Mrs. Lambert with.

She's above anybody's reproach.

If there's been any fault,
it's only mine.

No, Gilbert, you don't have anything
to blame yourself for.

And so we're through with
the compliments.

Let's just agree that I've been wronged
by a couple of saints.

The fact remains that I have been wronged,
isn't that so, Mrs. Lambert?

No, it isn't. Up until this moment
there has been no wrong.

And there's not going to be any.

- What do you mean?
- You've found your husband again.

It may be hard for both of you
to make a new start.

But sometimes people have to do
things that are hard for them.

Adelaide, don't talk like that.

We can't just give up so quickly.

She's your wife.

You must go back to her.

I won't do any...

Gilbert, please.

It isn't easy for me,
it isn't easy for me at all.

Mrs. Lambert!

You'd better go in to her.
She's very upset.

No, it's better to leave her alone.

What could I do to help her now?

Well, she may feel differently when
she's calmed down.

This has been a frightful shock to her.

No, when Adelaide makes up
her mind about something...

she doesn't change.

I'll come back tomorrow and arrange
with her about my things.

The theater is hers,
lock, stock, and barrel, of course.

The best thing we can do is leave
as quickly as possible.

But, no, Gilbert... it's too cruel.

Nothing we could say would
make it less cruel.

We should think of ourselves instead.

We've been reunited, that's
something accomplished for the good.

- Where are we going?
- Haven't you a hotel or something?

- Yes, of course...
- Then we'll go there and talk.

We're right back where we were
eight years ago,

only this time I have neither
a job nor a penny.

Once again the Mews had become
a place of sorrow for me.

The thought of life without Gilbert
was more than I could endure.

Addie!

Addie, I've done it. I've won the
battle at Platt's End.

What are you talking about, Treff?

I've been working on Mama
and Papa gradually,

you know, dropping a word
here and there,

and last night they surrendered.

They want you and Gilbert
to come for a visit.

How very sweet of them.

At first they thought you might come
for the weekend,

till I explained that Saturday was the most
important night in the theater.

But on Sunday there's no
perfromance, so...

Is there anything the matter
with that?

Please go away, Treff, I can't
talk to you now, I...

I can't.

- Gilbert, something's terrible the matter.
- No, there isn't, my boy.

- With Addie, I mean.
- Sorry I can't talk about it now.

Some other time.

She divorced me two years ago and married a
corset salesman at a place called Milwaukee.

We would never have known about it
if you hadn't seen through her game...

...and insisted on giving me
back to her.

- But I didn't see through anything.
- You didn't?

No, of course not.
I meant what I said.

What's right must come before
anything else.

Well, what's right now is you and me.

- But, Gilbert, you're divorced, I can't...
- That happened to a man named Lauderdale.

Gilbert Lambert on the other hand
is still a bachelor...

...and very anxious not to remain one.

Treff, tell Mama and Papa that we'll be
delighted to come on Sunday.

Oh.

Oh!

We were married that afternoon
at the registrar's office...

...in Doctors' Commons and left
immediately for Platt's End.

And I might add not without certain
apprehensions on my part.

Oh, Mama!

Addie, dear.

- Mother, this is Gil.
- Welcome to Platt's End, Gilbert.

You see, Treff has trained us to call our
son-in-law by the name he prefers.

- So nice to see you.
- You've changed even less than Addie.

I always think it's so important for
a man to keep his figure.

You're very kind.

Oh, Papa, this is my husband.

No need to tell me that. Wasn't it I
who hired him in the first place?

Addie, what do you think?
Alice and Fred are coming to supper.

Alice? Oh, Mama...

- Why, that's wonderful.
- Well, come along in.

That's right, Gilbert, come along in.
After you.

I must have been dreadfully in the way
during those drawing lessons.

I'm surprised Mr. Lambert didn't
strangle me.

Well, I was working up to it but fortunately
you had your autumn cold.

And you sent the twins to call off
the drawing lesson.

- Remember, Alice?
- Yes, of course I do.

I've always had a remarkably
good memory, you know?

Shall we go into the drawing room?

Hm, very good idea.

I'm told, Mrs. Baker, that you
have three children,

which of course I don't believe.

Addie.

Your father and I, we have
something to say to you.

- Yes, Mama?
- It isn't always easy to be good parents.

Even those with the best intentions
make mistakes.

- Would you rather say this, William?
- No, no, no, certainly not, certainly not.

We both realize now that we were
wrong about... about Mr. Lambert.

- Oh, Mama.
- We didn't really give him a chance.

We just assumed that he was
a fortune hunter.

You see, he seemed to fit into the pattern
and your mother jumped to the conclusion...

I jumped? You were the head
of the house.

It was up to you to make
the final decision.

Bertha, do you mean to say that you've got
the audacity to stand there and say that?

It doesn't matter who said
what, does it?

If it means that you approve
of him now.

Yes, Addie, indeed we do.

Well, then that's all that matters.

You feel quite confident then that
South African shares are looking up?

Oh, absolutely. It said so
in the Times last week.

Oh, my gloves. I think I left them
in the sitting room.

I'll get them for you, dear.

Talking of shares, my boy, I'd like
to have a word with you.

Would you care to come round
to the office?

Remember the night I told you
I was going to marry Freddie?

Yes, I do.

We promised we'd both stand by whoever
the other one chose.

You do like Gilbert, don't you, Alice?

Much better than Mr. Lambert.

Alice!
Oh, Alice!

- Good night, Mr. Baker.
- Got them, my dear?

- Yes, dear.
- Good.

Do come in and see the children
tomorrow, Addie.

- I will. Good night, Alice.
- Good night.

- Good night, Alice.
- Good night.

- Come along, Freddie.
- I'll see you out.

I think we'll say good night too.

It's the same room, Addie. The one I've
always wanted you to have.

Yes, I know. The pretty one.
Goodbye.

- Good night, Mama.
- Good night.

- Sleep well, Addie.
- Good night.

Good night, Gilbert.

- Good night, Treff.
- Good night, Gilbert, good night, Addie.

- Looks like a bride our Addie.
- After six years.

Mama!

Now I'll show you your room, Gilbert.
I didn't know before.

- Treff has just explained to me.
- Mama, we're perfectly all right here.

Nonsense, we've plenty of room.

And there's no reason why you shouldn't
have the same arrangement here...

...as you're accustomed to.

It's just along the passage. I think
you'll find it quite comfortable.

- Good night.
- Good night.

Sleep well.

My Mews is now a fashionable address.

Famous writers and artists have
their studios there.

And gone is the squalor of yesteryear.

But to me it will always be the place which
caught the imagination of a little girl.

A place of mystery, fascination,
and heartbreak.

And at the end, a place of
enchantment, and happiness.