Original subtitles

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.