All language subtitles for Corridor.of.Mirrors.1948.576p.BluRay.AC3.x264

What's the matter Mifanwy?

- Nothing.

That bad dream again?

- Sorry I woke you.

It's alright.

- Goodnight, darling.

Yes, that bad dream again.

I'm sorry.

Wake up Mifanwy,
you're gonna miss your train.

- I've been awake for hours.

Terrible children have been
only been up since daybreak.

- Here they come.
- You better hide.

- Wake up! Wake up!
- Ooh, ooh,

- ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh.
- Stop pretending!

- We know you're not asleep!
- Ooh, ooh.

We thought up some nice new things

we want you to buy in London!

- Yes we have, Gwendoline!

Wait for me!

— Ooh, ooh,
ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh.

We found you, daddy!

- David?

Come here.

What's the matter, David?

Mommy will be home again tomorrow.

- Is London very big, mommy?

- Yes, it is.

It has millions
and millions of people.

- Will you get lost, mommy?

- Mommies don't get lost, David.

- Then why did you cry
when the postman

brought that telegram?

You're walking out with me!

Well, what is it this time?

- It depends what you mean,
as they say.

It means, my good woman,

that I can see you from where I am,

and that whatever it is
you're thinking,

you're up to no good.

- You really want to
know what I was thinking?

I was thinking that, first,

you haven't kissed me
good morning, and second,

that I have the best
husband in the world for me.

Well, as for the first.

Good morning,

and as for the second,
I'm very flattered,

though I never did think very
much of your taste in men.

I'm going to
close the window, ladies.

There's a tunnel coming.

How highly
respectable they think I am,

and I, HAPPY,

I with my beautiful home,
and perfect husband,

and wonderful children.

How shocked they'd be
if they knew the secret

of my visit to London.

I'm going to see my lover.

Yes, I'm going to see my lover.

And I must go,

his dreadful letters coming
more and more frequently,

threatening to break up my home.

If only I could tell my husband.

No. He wouldn't understand.

Who wouldn't want him to?

Bywaters, Frederick,

executed for the murder
of Mr. Thompson

whose wife had been his sweetheart.

See number nine.

Nine, Thompson, Mrs.,

executed in 1923 for the
complicity in the murder

of her husband who was
actually killed in her presence

by her lover, a young man
named Bywaters.

44, 45.

Death head of Marie
Antoinette and her husband.

Poor things.

46,

Carrier, Jean,

1756 to 1794.

Death head.

One of the French revolutionists.

He ordered over 1,000 persons
to be found on the law.

He was guillotined by
the order of Robespierre.

47, Robespierre...

- Yes, Paul.

I know that look.

You feel above the
cut-throats and murderers

surrounding you, don't you?

I know that look so well.

That look of utter boredom.

You had it the first time I saw you.

I wanted to know all about you.

I wanted to know everything.

If only they had the tune they played.

The song the
red-headed girl was singing.

Seven years ago.

- Anybody interesting
here tonight, Jack?

One or two pick you
might find interesting, sir.

Look who dropped in.

- Dropped in is hardly the
phrase I should've chosen

- Can't understand why actors
don't change their costumes

before coming to a place like this.

- First bit of real man
I've seen tonight.

I wonder who he is.

- Paul Mangin, painter,
art critic, connoisseur.

- And who are we all
pulling to pieces this time?

- Take a look,
standing in the entrance,

Lord Byron.

I'd
say Sir Walter Raleigh,

complete with cloak.

- No, Hamlet.

- Good night, sweet prince,
as far as I'm concerned.

- Jack, I shan't be
staying my head on a stick.

Will you ask them to play a waltz?

- If that's what she'd like.

Don't stare, darling.

Remember what mother taught
you, blush and turn away.

- Well, well.

- Move up.

- Thank you.

- Come closer, ladies and gentlemen,

come closer.

Yes, the lady is alive.

See the gentle rise and fall,

oh, that's sixpence extra.

The lady suffers from a rare disease.

See the glazed look in her eyes?

They're looking at what?

The curtains, ladies and gentlemen.

The curtains.
- Oh, you fool.

Give me a cigarette, someone.

- Well, if the vigil's
on for another night,

I suggest we order another bottle of,

what the management of this
morgue laughingly describe

as hone yang.

- Well, we may as well
go on to Soviler's now.

We don't want to be too late.

- Of course, love.
- Okay.

- Another one, Miss Conway?

The famous smile?

- Ooh, one moment.

I've got something in my eye.

Take this and get me a
handkerchief or something.

Oh, take it, it's absolute agony.

- Here, take mine.
- Absolute agony.

Rub the other eye.

Mayonnaise.

Pull the eyelash over the eye.

- Ask me to pull it out
together, you fools.

Oh goodness, me.

Face the light.

Lift your chin up. Ah-ha.

There.

Perhaps you'd like to repair
the rest of the damage?

I must look an awful mess.

Thank you, Mr. Mangin.

- If you know my name,
might I know yours?

- Mifanwy.

Mifanwy Conway.

Won't you sit down?

- Thank you.

- Drink?

- No thank you.

But anyway, you're Welsh?

That accounts for your black hair.

- Actually not.

My mother was Italian.

- Italian?

You seem to like that.

And you?

- I'm a mixture
of so many nationalities,

I can truthfully say I belong to none.

- Well, you're an artist aren't you?

- In a way.

- An artist is a person who
belongs to no one in particular.

To the world.

- I never wanted to belong
to the world.

I carefully tried to avoid that.

Do I look as if I belong to the world?

- Well, no.

Not to this world, exactly.

It's rather stuffy in here.

There is a
little garden place outside.

- I was waiting to come
again after our dance,

and I decided not to come too soon.

Now, I mustn't stay too long.

Good night.

- Well, how'd it...
- Shut up.

- Well, care a bit to order
that bottle that I talked about

in that lucid moment I
had a few minutes ago?

- You'd better before you
fall flat on your face

in marks of broken glass.

- No thank you.

You two had better go to that party.

You don't want to be too late.

Aren't you coming, Mifanwy?

- No, I'm rather tired.

I think I'll go home.

Get you a taxi, miss?

- No thank you, Harry.

It's a lovely night.
I think I'll walk.

Goodnight.

Goodnight, Miss.

- Mifanwy?

I thought it was you.

Have you ever been to Nahanson before?

- Yes.

Long ago.

- You must've been very little then.

Would you like to try it again?

I like the way you dress.

It's not like everybody else.

- I shouldn't call you
all together conventional.

- Don't you think it
might be a mistake

if I were to send you home
at this moment?

I'd like you to see my
house and my artistry.

Would you care
to continue the adventure?

- Yes. I would.

- Go us home, Mortimer.

- Very good, sir.

- Would you wait, Mortimer?

There's no key.

The Florintine's liked
mechanical gadgets.

Come along.

As we came
in, I could feel somehow

that he was watching me,

and even now, after all these years,

I can still remember this house
of his in Richmand's Park.

Perhaps if I could see
it today, it would seem

much smaller and much more ordinary.

They'd be where the scent of flowers,

so strong, so sickly sweet,

that I felt almost suffocated.

- And here I ought to explain,

you'll see no one here
except for myself.

I keep my staff out of
view as much as possible.

I like to attend to the
needs of my guests myself.

- Girls?

- I very rarely invite anybody
to my home.

It has to be the appropriate person.

You need not come any
further unless you wish.

- I wish.

- I strongly advise you not to

unless you feel the inclination.

Oh, I feel
the inclination.

You have no idea how much.

It was
then, for the first time,

I was to learn of the strange effect

love had had on poor Mangin.

How do you like this room?

- Highly effective.

- Thank you.

I never quite thought of it like that.

- Oh, how intriguing.

What's that little scent bottle?

Must be very old.

- It is.

The scent is still there.

The scent of an age to
which you really belong.

- Smells of musk,
and thyme, and amber.

Juliet might have used it.

- Not Juliet.

The Porcher's with their lusts,
and passions, and murders.

I'm glad you like
the little scent bottle.

It happens to be one of the
most lovely things in the house.

You've got very good tastes.

- I should've said that of you.

- Here's something more
than mere taste.

It's an attitude towards life.

Handsome calve.

Seven 66 and all that?

- Handsome?

I have the courage in my conviction.

Did you enjoy your ride?

- It was a novelty.

You know,
I was most terribly disappointed

none of my friends passed
in a car to see us.

- No doubt you're wondering
why I surrounded

myself with an atmosphere of the past.

Tell me exactly
what you think, Mifanwy.

Most people think they were
born before their time.

I'm after mine.

Everybody wants to belong
to the future.

Nobody wants to belong to the past.

Except me.

A bat's humor is in me sometimes.

I hope you like this.

- You know, you mustn't think that.

I belong neither to the
past nor the future.

I'm up-to-the-minute.

Neither a second behind or beyond it.

The present.

- Whether you like it or not,

we're all products of the past.

Even the present
you think you belong to

will soon become the past.

We don't know whether the
future will be good or bad,

but we gamble on it.

Well, I've given up gambling.

I prefer certainty.

The past.

- Tell me something.

Remember you said
after our little waltz

that you dare not come too soon,

but you mustn't stay too long?

What did all that mean?

- I've always found that
whenever I'm very much attracted

to anything or anybody,

I always move very slowly
in the opposite direction.

You know, mentally I
push back that curtain

at the night club many times before I

actually went there again.

They're just too difficult
to keep away.

The chance is worth taking.

What chance?

- The chance that you
might be interested.

Some more wine.

- Only interested?

- Interested at first.

I'm going to set out to charm you.

- Lots of men have tried that.

- It's my form of
seduction that you'll like.

- Strange.

No man of any shape
or kind I've yet met

has ever suggested charm as
his entire plan of campaign.

Very well, charm me.

- You don't understand me.

I mean my ideas, my way
of looking at things,

my attitude towards life.

- Well, that's a new approach.

- Don't you like this wine?

- Oh.

Alright, show me around.

Show me your studio.

- I don't paint anymore.

' Why not?

- You notice this?

It should interest you.

Do you recognize it?

- I'm ashamed.

Should I?

Is it so famous?

Oh, it's a mirror,

and of a special significance?

- Only for me, Mifanwy.

I'd like you to have it.

- Oh, I couldn't!

- Please.
- I couldn't!

- You'd give me a particular
pleasure out of accepting it.

- Paul, do you know what you
put in that wine you gave me?

I swear I've just seen a
white cat in the mirror.

- Cat? Nonsense.

- I did.

There.

- Get out.

Get out!

- Oh, it's a lovely cat!

- I do apologize, I'm afraid I...

- Well,

I really must be going.

I promised to have an early night,

and it's getting rather late,

but I thoroughly enjoyed
myself, I really did.

- Please don't go yet.

It's not really very late.

Care to have another glass of wine?

Well, maybe.

- Perhaps it is a little late.

I'll get you your coat.

You've been interested, I hope.

- Yes.

Enormously.

- I'm glad.

Mifanwy her
mother would call it.

The natives couldn't
pronounce it, so they gave it

their own name, Devil Girl.

Particularly suitable.

Well, you're
prejudiced in half, though,

because she's your daughter.

David Conway
the overindulgent father?

I wonder what the quivering
prisoners of bar who

think I've got the
hardest heart on the bench

would think if
they could see me as I am?

- Well, she certainly keeps
the most fantastic hours.

You know, sir,
it's none of my business,

but don't you think
this night club life's

sorta bad for the young girl?

- Well, let me put it this way.

The gawky school-girl
that you remember

has turned into something of a beauty.

Yes, then.

Look at this rather fine peak.

Why, I'm not really worried about her.

The young people she runs
around with are all like her.

Just marking time waiting for
something to happen to them.

Oh, end of film.

- And so we say, farewell.

Owen Rhys.

- My dear girl.

- Well, say something.

Preferably something about me.

- Well, four years in the
wilds doesn't exactly improve

my small talk.

- Well, have I changed?

Since you'll expectedly answer yes.

- No.

You still have a brace on your teeth,

I can't see your legs, but I expect

you're still knot-kneed,

and quite honestly,
between you and me,

your nose is too very shiny.

- Oh, you beast.

You're probably right.

Well, go on talking about
your life in the wilds,

or the bush, or wherever it was.

Well, I'm home
for a short time.

Been away for a couple of years.

I think that's all.

- Why do grown men do these things?

To get away from the
young women who write poems.

Now, I've still got that one about

love and dove you knocked up.

- Terrifying.

Quite terrifying.

- Flattering.

Quite flattering.

- How do you turn this
infernal thing off, Owen?

Horribly unorthodox, but effective.

- If you don't mind, I'll
leave the infernal machine

till the morning, sir.

- Of course. Goodnight, Owen.

- Goodnight.

- Nice of you to have
looked here on nights first.

I'll see you to the door.

I hope we can
see a lot of each other.

That would be lovely.

Goodnight, Owen.

Goodnight, Mifanwy.

I want a word
with you, young woman.

- Quite a bit tired, David.

Can it wait?

No.

Come here.

Nearer.

Whose crest have you
got on around your neck?

- Now, David.

It's not the quivering
prisoner at the bar,

this is your spoiled beauty
of a daughter.

Remember her?

- Stop being foolish.

I want to look at it.

Here.

You weren't wearing this when
you went out this evening?

- He came tonight.

- Ah.

This is a priceless piece
of Monet source work.

You can't go accepting
valuable presents like this.

Who is this man anyway?

- Oh, someone I met in
a night club weeks ago.

Your tie is crooked.

- And you look at everybody's tie.

Your affairs don't usually
last as long as this.

- No?

This is something different.

I find him attractive, David.

Madly attractive.

Don't ask me any more.

This is my own secret for the moment.

It only matters that I'm
mature as a companion

of the most extraordinary
man in the whole of London,

possibly in the whole world.

- Alright, Mifanwy.

You shall keep your secret,

but you won't keep this.

You shall take this back
tomorrow, to your...

Your most extraordinary
man in the whole of London.

- Paul?

Paul?

Paul?

Stop joking.

Where are you?

Paul?

- Very beautiful,

but this is hardly character.

Now, we must do the finishing touches.

The jewelry's missing.

So is the headdress.

How wonderful!

Would you mind
renting me this costume?

- I've been collecting
them over a period of years

just for this occasion.

- Oh.

Surprising how it fits me.

- It isn't surprising at all.

In the future, you'll find all the

matching jewelry
in the opposite closet.

- Is that well?

- I hope so.

- You know, Paul,

since the moment I entered this house,

I can't help feeling that
I've left the other Mifanwy

back at the night club.

This one is someone
entirely different.

- You are someone entirely different.

Yes, I was becoming

someone entirely different.

I was beginning to think
like him, speak like him,

feel like him.

Paul was turning me into
someone I couldn't understand.

Weeks passed, he took up
all my time and energy,

and yet, there was
never any undue pressure

in Paul's hold over me.

All day long there was a
sensation of being imprisoned

in a different world.

It was as if I wanted to
get away and couldn't.

Even in my sleep, he would be there

in the corridor of mirrors,

watching me dressing up for him.

I was becoming like a wax doll,

all with a head and shoulders.

What's in the letter, Caro?

Since you're so anxious to tell me,

and it is addressed to me.

What's in it?

- Since you're so anxious to know,

your favorite client, Mr. Paul Mangin,

is giving a ball, a
masked fancy dress ball,

next month.

Here, he wants you to make him

a particular dress for a lady.

The design is enclosed.

It could be for miss Mifanwy Conway.

- Could be.

That man knows what he wants.

These are quite perfect.

- She hasn't been seen at
the club now for some time,

has she?

- Neither has he, my pet.

You think I haven't noticed
the look in your eyes

whenever he's around.

It makes me sick.

I could always tell the
moment he came into the club.

Even your voice would
take on a hungry note

like a yowling cat on the tiles.

- Tell me, Edgar,

if you hate him so much,
why have you slaved

on these dresses all these years?

Why do you crawl to him?

Why do you lick his boots?

Or maybe that's become a habit, hm?

- The reason is simple, my pet.

I am an artist.

He appreciates my artistry,
and pays well for it.

Hello?

Oh alright, show him up quickly.

Yes, quickly.

- I hope I'm not too early.

Oh no, Mr. Mangin.

I'm at your service at
any time of the day.

I received your designs.

They are quite perfect.

- Well, Anasia probably thought so

when he originally designed them.

I want all these costumes
kept in the same style.

- Venetian school.

- I'll leave the choice
of materials to you.

That's your affair, but
they must be kept simple.

- May I make a few suggestions?

- I'm still here, you know?

- I beg your pardon. I didn't see you.

- There was a time when
you first came to the club,

when you couldn't look at anyone else.

- I wasn't looking at you, my dear.

I was merely interested
in the play of light

on your red hair, and amazed at the

vulgarity of an age who can
produce such a type as yours.

- This fancy dress ball of yours?

I'm looking forward to it.

- I'm afraid only my friends
are invited.

- Mr. Mangin, perhaps
you'd care to look at this

Spig of felt?

- Oh, Edgar.

I was just trying to explain
to Mr. Mangin

that the costumes might not
be ready in time unless...

- Is that also your condition, Orsen?

- Yes. Sorry, Mr. Mangin.

- I'll arrange to have
the costumes sent for.

Who put that on?

- Must be the young lady, sir.

She told me not to tell you
she'd arrived.

I think she wanted to be
a little surprise for you.

Will there be anywhere
you're going tonight, sir?

- No, you can go, Mortimer.

I'll see the lady home.

- Does me good
to see you so happy, sir.

Haven't seen you
like this since Italy.

The day you brought the picture home.

- That was 10 years ago, Mortimer.

That's a long time.

Yes,
it is a long time, sir.

Perhaps this might be
the right number to ask

how much longer I've got to
wear these fancy clothes.

I'm getting a little tired
of the way the ways people

keep laughing at me.

Even the girl in the grocer's
calls me Mr. Pickwick.

- You ought to be honored, Mortimer.

Pickwick was Dickens'
favorite character.

- Pickwick?

Pickwick?

- Charming.

Please don't laugh.

You love dancing, don't you?

I've got something here
that might interest you.

I've arranged the ball
especially for you.

You'll be able to dance
all night long,

and I've invited all the
most famous and infamous

people in London.

- Oh, how wonderful!

For me?

How do you know they'll all come?

- They'll come alright

if only out of curiosity.

For one night, you and I will
be in our proper setting.

Venice, 400 years ago.

Mind your dress.

- Sorry.

- You know the little piece of canal

that goes through my grounds?

Well, there it is. The grand canal.

The dancing, the valet,
the bella di latte.

But a detail will be missing
from the age to which

you really belong.

That should make you happy Mifanwy.

- And what have you chosen
for me to wear?

- I'll tell you about that
after dinner.

I don't know what I should
do if you were to die.

Odd thing to say.

- I shall have nothing left
to live for.

Do I mean
so much to you, Paul?

- One day, you'll realize how much.

- It's two, really?

- I'm afraid it is, and
Mortimer isn't back yet.

- Paul, would you consider
it very 20th century

if I invited myself for the night?

I'm really awfully tired.

Have you a guest room?

- I have, but I'm afraid I
can't supply the chaperone.

I'd hate to answer the
door to an irate father

shouting for my blood.

Daddy's on holiday
in Wales.

- Good.

Have a horror of bloodshed,

especially my own.

No one's been in this room before.

It was waiting for you.

Goodnight, Mifanwy.

My name is Veronica.

Won't you come down?

Sit down, Mifanwy.

- You know my name?

- Well, yes.

I know everything about you.

Naughty, Naughty, Blanche.

This time you've given me away.

- So, whenever I saw the cat,

you were near?

- Oh yes.

Many were the times I wished
that I could talk to you.

You wondered how I knew your name.

I heard him say it.

It sounds beautiful from his lips.

I don't understand.

Paul told me there was
nobody else in the house.

- For him, there is no one.

You have some tea.

- But, you had many
opportunities of talking to me

when I was alone.

- But, how could I know
that he wouldn't

suddenly appear?

You know how he can appear
quite suddenly from nowhere.

But, I can always watch
you without his knowing.

I have a way of flittering
from room to room,

and about the corridors like a ghost.

Sugar?

Very often, I thought that
you would discover me.

- What would happen if
Paul were to find out

you'd spoken to me?

- He would throw me out.

- What's he afraid of?

- How old do you think I am?

The truth, now.

50?

- That's what he's afraid of.

That you might find out
why a woman of 30 should

look like me.

- I'm not gonna listen to you anymore.

I don't believe a word of it.

- Oh, but you must!

You don't want
to become like me, do you?

Listen, he found me in
Italy during the war.

I'd lost my home and my family.

I was really beautiful
and he was very rich.

He said that I was what
he'd been searching for.

He promised that I should be
the mistress of this house,

that I should never want for anything,

that I should have all
the clothes and jewels

that I wanted to wear.

I did.

Every day, I was dressed up in them.

He never allowed me to
go outside the house

because he said it would
spoil the illusion,

and then...

He got tired of me.

I was banished below stairs.

You could've
run away and left him.

- For years I've been a
prisoner in this house.

I didn't know a soul.

Since that time, there's been
a long procession of girls,

but I always warn them

in time.

You think he loves you, don't you?

He loves only himself.

- It isn't true.

It's not true.

Paul didn't force me.

I came and stayed at my own free will.

- Of his will.

He's clever.

He makes you think it is your will.

He's like a drug.

He makes you see life his way,

and you've got to go on

because if you stop,
you'd find the world

so cruel and ugly, that you'd
have to go crawling back

to him again.

No. No.

No! No!

No. No. No. No.

Must get out of this house.

The strangest curse.

I've got to get out. I must get out.

He makes
you see life his way.

There's been a long procession...

Oh! Where's my room?

- Come in Mifanwy.

You'll find out where I work.

Come over here
and tell me what you think

of my designs for musician's costumes.

I found them in this old book.

- Paul.

Is it true about the other girls?

Did they also have
black hair like mine?

Did you dress them up as well?

- So, Veronica's been talking to you?

- So it is true?

Everything she's told me is true.

You haven't a hold over me.

- What are you talking about, Mifanwy?

- You haven't a hold over me.

You can't make me become like her,

or a slave like all the others!

See? You can't deny anything.

I've seen how she looks.

I thought she was an old woman.

That's why you kept her hidden,

because you made her what she is.

- She looked as she does
now in Baltimore

when I first found her in the street.

She's a poor creature
with the mind of a child.

- Don't lie to me.

You know you found her in Italy.

She doesn't sound mad at all.

- She's afraid of you Mifanwy,
as a child would be afraid.

Her obsession is that
with your coming here

that she will be turned out.

Why should
she be afraid of me?

She also warned the others?

- There were no others.

- I don't believe you!

Aren't I almost a prisoner?

You've done everything
you could to keep me

away from other people!

- I was afraid of losing you

because you're the one
I was waiting for.

Afraid of losing me!

So, in his untiring quest,
the well known connoisseur

Paul Mangin discovered
her in a wild expensive

curio shop, took her
home, and found that she

was the exact shape,
color, and measurements

to fit his unique collection
of costumes.

But, this marionette's
got tired of the role

before you got tired of her.

Paul, I don't intend
becoming one of those dolls

in your cupboards.

I'm getting out of this toy shop.

- Wait!

Mifanwy, I've no power to hold you.

What I'm going to tell
you may seem puzzling

and strange to you.

You may wonder why I
haven't told you before.

You're young, and I wanted
to be sure that you're ready

to accept a miracle.

- I don't believe in miracles.

- Don't you, Mifanwy?

Then, what's this?

- It's wonderful!

When have you drew this of me?

Portrait Of A Lady,

Tributed to Christopher O'Lore, 1486?

I don't understand.

- I was in a castle in Italy.

Has to be last fall, wounded,

with a shell splint in my head.

All the times I lay in
bed, she looked down at me.

For nights, I dreamt about her.

She filled my imagination.

After the war, I went back to England.

I found no peace and no happiness.

That girl's face haunted me.

She drew me back to Italy.

I had to possess her.

The clay I bought her, an
infinite peace and happiness

enveloped me for the
first time in my life.

I was atoned to find out who she was.

They let me search the
archives of the castle,

then I discovered her name.

Venetia.

Then, something very strange happened.

I became conscious in
knowing events in her life

before I'd even read about them.

I felt that somehow, somewhere
I'd known her before.

That mirror in her hand,
I thought I'd given it

to her myself.

I've always laughed at
the idea of reincarnation,

but this had happened to me,

so I was bound to believe it.

Right now, I was convinced
that I had lived 400 years ago,

that I had been Venetia's lover.

- But, you're Paul Mangin.

Living here and now.

How could you believe
that you're that man?

- Yes, how could I believe?

One part of the puzzle was missing.

- That part was me.

You believe that I'm that girl?

Smile,

it's mocking, it's cruel.

- Yes, I always hated her smile.

- I wonder what she was thinking.

- She was cruel. She was faithless.

I could've changed her,
but she left me.

- You speak as if you
were really there.

- As if?

I was there, I tell you! I was there!

This time, you won't leave me Venetia.

- No.

I won't leave you.

14867

No, Paul.

I won't leave you.

It wasn't
easy to lie to Paul,

to leave him.

I knew in that moment
that if I didn't,

I would never be able to.

It wasn't so much Paul
who frightened me,

but what I knew was happening to me,

and most of all, I wanted to be able

to love again.

- So, you are happy here, aren't you?

- Oh, very happy.
I never want to leave.

- Mifanwy.

Have you ever been in love?

- Oh, a thousand times,

but never in love.

- Both cynical and sad.

- And, so...

Here, move over.

Use your wrist more
when you're crossed.

- Don't peter?

- How dreadful.

- Oh.

- Do you think you ever could be?

- In love?

- Yes.

- I could be.

- But, not like the other
thousand times.

- I'd want it to be different somehow.

- How 50? Name one.

- Days and nights.

Heavens! What a country slow down.

- Yeah, they're one to
work, but are always minor.

It's a lot better than
living in a back drought.

Still, I wouldn't live
anywhere else if you paid me.

Now, you run up
and change your clothes.

I'll get you a hot drink.

Here.

- Shall I bring my own
shoes and socks down?

- It's in the top,
right-hand drawer. Will you?

- Heavens! Any more of
this hunt and shoot and

fishin' business, I'll turn
into a horse and begin to lay.

- Give them the seal, woman.

What's the matter m'darling?

Bad news?

- Oh, no.
I've got to get back to London.

It'll only be for a few days,
but I've got to get back.

Disappointing,
even for a few days.

- Perhaps it's because of
you I've got to go back.

I can't explain it. It
wouldn't make sense.

- Nothing you do say makes much sense.

- You see, I can never marry someone.

The shadow of another
man always beside me.

- This shadow,

You're sure you're right
the other day when you said,

"A thousand times and never in love"?

- It's always so difficult
to explain, isn't it?

Perhaps I should've said I
never loved anyone before.

- Good evening. So glad
you were able to come.

- Delighted!

- My dear, what we've
missed by him hiding himself

all these years.

- It must've cost him thousands.

No, sir. It's
completely crilickers.

I wonder if it's a woman.

- Hear that, Caroline?

He wants to know if Paul has
done all of this for a woman.

- You ought to know, dear Edgar.

You made the dress.

- Well, it's getting late and
I haven't seen it anywhere.

- Don't worry, you will.

Even if, according to the
panther, Miss Mifanwy Conway

is spending part holiday in Wales

with the ever-so-eligible Mr. Rigbys,

the distinguished explorer.

- Somehow I doubt if poor
Mangin reads the tattler.

- Then don't you think, dear Edgar,

someone should tell him?

Hello, Paul.

Looking for someone?

- You are recognized, my
sister Lucrezia Borgia.

- Is that intended as a compliment?

- Just as you like.

She's as handsome
as you are, Caroline,

and just about as dangerous.

- And what do I do to
live up to her reputation?

- Start up by poisoning
a dozen lovers or so.

- Lead me to the bar.
I'll start at once.

- I'm afraid you'll have
to look elsewhere

for your first victim.

I knew you'd come.

- Good evening, Miss Conway.

- What a lovely costume, Mortimer.

- Yes, I'm afraid I've made more noise

than a ruddy fire engine.

Begging your pardon, miss.

- I would have one
of those if I were you.

- I never take it, sir.

- Well, that's all I have to show you.

- You've given me something
that I'll never forget, Paul.

- Until some bright
young thing comes along

and shows you something
you more, you see?

You will remember, won't you?

- Yes. I'll remember.

It's getting rather cold.

Let's go inside.

- Stop, Paul. Stop.

Well, it's all over.

- Not for us.

Give me your hand.

- Whatever for?

It's an engagement ring.

- You don't like it?

- How very amusing,

and awfully cute.

- It's just like hers don't you see?

It's just like hers.

- Oh, for goodness sake Paul.

Stop this nonsense.

This bringing of something of
the present back into the past

or the past back into the
present, whichever way you put it.

It's becoming a bit of a bore.

Got a cigarette?

I'm absolutely panting for one.

Oh, I'm forgetting.

We don't smoke, do we?

- What's the matter with you?

- Nothing.

It's just that I have the
courage to tell you the truth

at last.

You set out to charm me,
as you put it.

Well, you succeeded.

I was attracted to you.

I liked dressing up,
what woman doesn't?

I was in the mood.

It was a novelty.

You played up to my vanity.

Yes, of course.

It was my vanity
which made me take part

in all this madness,

but when you showed me
the picture of this woman

and told me that I was her,

then things became a bit
too complicated for me.

So, I went away for a rescue.

- Why did you come here tonight?

Curiosity.

That was all.

- Mifanwy.

No, it had to be because I was here.

We can't be too long
apart from each other.

- I'm sorry, but really.

Just because you're
dressed up as a Bourget

doesn't make me Venetia.

Look, ours was a very
charming, unique affair.

That was all.

I never intended anything serious.

I love someone else.

I'm going to marry him.

- So you laughed
when I told you my story?

You thought it was very funny?

She laughed too.

I should've known that
four centuries can't change

a woman's soul.

A pity, Mifanwy, that you inherited

not only her beautiful body,

but also her worthless heart.

- Alright, Paul.

I'm Venetia.

Heart and all.

Didn't you say she went
off with another man?

See? We've both completed
the full cycle

of our destinies.

- Not quite.

I didn't tell you
the end of the story,

as I hoped yours might be different.

It is not going to be, Mifanwy.

Not going to be.

You see, you loved her hair.

It was so dark and mysterious.

I strangled her with it.

Do I still make you laugh, Mifanwy?

Do I still make you laugh, Mifanwy?

Venetia!

Mifanwy!

Oh, darling,

don't be so disappointed.

Aren't you glad to see me?

- Why haven't you gone home?

- I'm completely plastered.

In fact, I nearly passed right out.

Oh, don't let that little
society bit get you down.

I love you, do you hear?

You've always treated me like dirt.

Well, I am a tramp, but I like it.

Don't look at her!

Look at me!

You've never said a kind word to me.

You despise me.

I suppose you think I'm
not good enough for you.

Caroline?

Caroline?

Caroline?

Caroline?

Caroline!

- Mortimer has come back.

There are two gentlemen with him.

- Caroline Hart has been murdered.

- Why did you do it, Mr. Mangin?

Why did you do it, Mr. Mangin?

- Veronica,

would you tell the
gentlemen I shall be ready

in five minutes for them
to take me away?

- Yes, Mr. Mangin.

Only five minutes, Miss.

- Why have you come?

- Paul, let me tell them.

- There's nothing to tell.

- Yes, there is.

About you and me, and Venetia.

- That must never be told.

- But it would help to save you.

- For what? A lunatic asylum?

Can you imagine me in a padded cell?

I, who have always
surrounded myself with

beautiful things, jewels, riches,

the sound of music, the
touch of a woman's hair...

Sorry, not the most
tactful thing to mention.

- Don't you want to live?

- Do you love me, Mifanwy?

- No.

- Then there is no need
for me to defend myself.

You see, before, I was
searching for someone.

I know I must've seemed
mad, frightening to you,

but have you ever thought
that everyone

from the very minute he's born,
is searching for something?

Most people die without
even knowing what it is.

I knew,

so I'm one of the lucky ones.

- Paul. Paul.

- All sorts of people
before me have tried to live

outside their time.

It's quite futile.

There's a time to be
born, and a time to die.

So, please don't spoil the
exit I've chosen for myself.

You ought to know
I always had a liking

for dramatic effects.

- Goodbye, Paul.

- Au revoir, Venetia.

Bring out Paul Mangin.

Paul Mangin, you are charged on

the night of
September the third, 1938,

you willfully murdered Caroline Hart.

On this indictment, what do you plead?

- Guilty, my lord.

Oh yes. Oh yes. Oh yes.

My lords, the King's
justices, do strictly charge

and command all persons
to keep silence

while sentence of death is passed

on the prisoner at the bar
upon pain of imprisonment.

God save the King.

The sentence
that the court upon you,

is that you be taken from
this place to a lawful prison,

then to a place of execution.

Which is there, you will
be hanged by the neck until

you be dead and your body
be afterwards buried in the

precinct of the prison in
which you had been confined

before your execution.

My the Lord have mercy upon your soul.

- Paul Mangin, Mossbourne murderer.

Strangled Caroline Hart
with her own hair.

Executed uptown

Oh, yes, I remember reading about that

in the news of the world.

Good afternoon, Miss.

- Mortimer!

- Not quiet between you and him is it?

- So it was you who sent the telegram?

- Yes, Miss, Madam.

You see, I discovered Veronica
had found out your address

and was writing those threatening

letters you've been getting.

- Veronica?

- Madam, do you believe he did it?

- No.

Not always.

Mortimer, why should Veronica
now wish to blackmail me?

- That is why I sent for you.

Veronica's always been
a little queer, Madam.

She was like that when I found
her and brought her home.

- From Italy?

- Oh, no, that was her story.

He realized that she was mad,

and it wasn't safe for
her to be out alone.

But lately, she's got worse.

She is mad. Dangerously mad.

I sent you the telegram
because I was afraid

that you might take
action against Veronica.

The poor master's name
would be dragged

through the mud again.

Oh, Madam, I wanted to
implore you not to do that

because I'm having Veronica put away.

Yes, I'm having her put away.

He never wished that, but

every evening
just as it's getting dark,

she disappears.

A few days ago, I followed her here.

Always at the same time,

just as this place is going to close.

She wants to have a few
words with him alone.

We're closing
now ladies and gentlemen.

There she is now.

We're closing
now ladies and gentlemen.

We're closing now.
Hurry along, please.

- I'm late, Paul.

We haven't much time.

That old fool,
he will keep spying on me.

He pretends she's not in the house.

But I know she's there.

I hear her every night,
laughing and dancing

in the corridor.

I hear the music box play.

Last night,

I went after her,

but she fled and hid
in the guest room.

She knows I'm frightened
to go in there.

But one night,

I won't be.

I couldn't see the last time.

It was too dark.

I couldn't see she had red hair.

It was the one with the
black hair I wanted.

She's here, Paul.

The one with the black hair.

She still uses the same scent.

Why did you let him die?

- So that you couldn't have him.

Where are you?

You won't
find me, Veronica.

You won't be writing
any more letters to me.

Yes, get to know
those faces, Veronica.

Soon, yours will be one of them.

Look at your own handiwork.

- Where are you?

You say you loved him,

but you've turned him into an

effigy of horror and wax.

No good running away, Veronica.

No good running away.

- You go now, Miss.

I'll see to everything.

- Mortimer, I...

- Please, Miss.

The master would wish it.

- Alright, Mortimer.

Thank you, Mortimer.

What have you
got for us?

- Hello!

Hello, darling.

Darlings, why I have
lots of presents for you.

Of course I have...

- Well, how did you get on?

- Well, I had a
very busy time, darling.

I spent much more than
I ought to have done.

I bought you a new dressing
gown to match mine.

- Thank you, darling.

- How have the children been, good?

How's the garden? The tulips out yet?

- Well, darling, you haven't
been away a year, you know?

- I went into Madame Tussauds.

- Really?

- You know,

they've got Paul Mangin there.

The man who strangled
a woman with her hair.

- Funny you should mention that.

There was something about him
in the paper this morning.

He didn't do it at all.

His old housekeeper confessed
just before she died.

She'd thrown herself in front
of a lorry or something.

You were lucky to have seen him.

I expect they'll take
him out of Tussauds now.

- They will?

- He must've been a
very attractive person.

Didn't you think so, Mifanwy?