All language subtitles for A.Womans.Vengeance.1948.1080p.BluRay.x264.AAC-[YTS.MX].en

(bell clanging)

(gentle music)

(gentle music continues)

(gentle music)

(door clicks)

Oh, you are here, are you?

Emily, you promised.

Now clear out, will you?

Don't be hard on him, Henry.

You're the one who is hard on him.

You treat your brother like
an irresponsible halfwit.

And then you're surprised
when he behaves like one.

Goodbye, Henry.

I shan't forget what you've done for me.

(door thuds)

You've been so unkind to him

and the poor boy is in such difficulty.

Entirely through his own fault.

I sometimes think he's
the only person in the world

who still cares for me.

He was saying such sweet things
to me before you came in.

As the cheque.

Henry!

Oh, how can you?

I'm sorry, my dear.

Now, is this for the chemist?

You never say anything nice to me.

Because you don't feel it.

You hate me, really.

Now Emily, please.

No, you don't even hate me.

That would be too much trouble.

You're just bored.

Bored and disgusted because I'm ill.

Because of this.

Must we go through this again?

You can't bear to be near me.

That's why you won't come out with me.

But my dear, I told you, I'm too busy.

Too busy.

You're never busier than Robert is.

Robert has offered to take me in his car.

But you can't go by
car, it's much too tiring.

It isn't a question of being tired.

It's a question of being with
someone who cares for you.

You mean, who cares for your money.

Well, I don't care if he does!

At least he doesn't wish I
were dead which is what you do.

[Henry] Oh, Emily, please.

But surely you can't deny it.

You do wish I were dead.

Oh, I certainly shall if you
go on much longer like this.

- Oh, I'm sorry.
- No, no, come in and listen.

He's just said it in so many
words, he wishes I were dead.

Where are you going?

(door thuds)

He's forgotten Janet's birthday presents.

Go after him, will you?

Proust!

The complete set.

And so beautifully bound.

[Henry] Hello, General.

Look, father.

Oh, thank you, Henry.

I'm so happy you like it.

I can't make head or tail of it.

Show me the thing Emily gave you.

Isn't it lovely?

They spoil me, I don't deserve it.

You deserve everything you get.

That's a fact, Maurier.

Spending your life looking after

a wretched old crock like me.

Father, please.

Sacrificing herself, when
she ought to get married.

I'm not worth it.

I ought to be dead.

Making everybody's life a burden.

Now this girl of ours
is going to leave us.

Oh, don't worry about it,
father, it will be all right.

Very pretty.

What news of Emily?

That's what I came to talk to you about.

Will you do us both a charity?

And come to lunch with us tomorrow?

I'd love to.

But why is it a charity?

Blessed are the peacemakers,

and we are in need of a peacemaker.

What's it all about?

The usual thing.

What, women?

Father, please.

In this case it happens
to have been something else.

All right, take me out, nurse.

Time to go and feed the dogs.

I began it I'm afraid by
objecting to her brother.

That made Emily object to me, violently.

After which we both lost our tempers.

Utterly senseless of course,

but then such is life unfortunately.

It needn't be.

No, I suppose not.

If I were a little less impatient.

And Emily could be more understanding.

Then each of us would be somebody else

and we'd live happily ever after.

Meanwhile.

Do you think that a woman

who has been married for
the best part of 20 years,

would come to share her
husband's tastes, wouldn't you?

Why yes, of course.

Well.

The first time I showed
Emily a modern painting,

she said it make her feel sick.

That was when we were engaged.

Now, the last time I showed her one,

which was about three days ago.

It still made her feel sick.

That's what you call
intellectual companionship.

Luckily there is somebody

who understands what I'm talking about.

I'm thinking of the first
time I saw a modern painting.

[Henry] When was that?

When was that?

Do you happen to remember a young woman

who came back from India
just before the war?

[Henry] Oh, yes.

A very charming and beautiful young woman.

That's neither here nor there.

The point is that she was
an ignorant little fool.

And you were very kind to her.

You opened a door

and there were all the things
she'd only heard about.

Painting, poetry, music.

It was like a revelation.

Like a conversion.

Dear Janet.

And.

I wish Emily could have a conversion.

But I'm afraid it is not very likely.

Well, I'll expect you tomorrow.

[Janet] You are not going already?

Ah, duty.

Duty.

Stern daughter of the voice of God.

I have to drive to Windsor.

And get Emily's latest
prescription made up.

That's typical of you, Henry.

You always joke about duty,
but you go on doing it.

Do I?

Well, I must confess, I hadn't noticed it.

I must say goodbye.

[Janet] Where is your car?

[Henry] At the gate.

[Janet] I'll come with you.

Oh, no, you'll do no such thing.

I will dream of it.

(Henry speaks in foreign language)

What's that for?

For your thoughts.

They're worth more than that.

All right.

I'll give you sixpence when
you come for lunch tomorrow.

That's a bargain.

Goodbye.

(door clicks)

(birds chirping)

We go to the chemists first.

[Driver] Yes, sir.

(car engine revving)

Why have you been so long?

I couldn't help it, darling.

I had to give Janet her presents.

It's her birthday.

She must be awfully old, isn't she?

From your point of view,

she practically has one foot in the grave.

And from my point of view,

she is a handsome young woman of 35.

As a matter of fact,

she used to be really
beautiful 10 years ago.

I suppose you flirted with her.

Of course I did.

Do you still flirt with her?

Only in the most spiritual way.

Henry, I sometimes hate you.

Luckily, you have your own
inimitable way of showing it.

I know you don't really
love me, but I don't care.

I can love you enough for two.

If I didn't love you, I'd
think you were horrible.

The same to you, my sweet, many of them.

Couldn't we have dinner together?

Mm, I can't, I'm dining at home tonight.

At home?

But that doesn't count.

Oh, I see.

My wife is to be abolished

so I can take you to
dinner, darling child.

I think you're hard.

Good, then, I shan't have
to ask you tomorrow night.

Henry, do you mean it?

(both giggle)

He's got no right to
treat Robert like that.

No right at all.

But my dear, you must admit

that Robert's a bit, well, irresponsible.

Well, at least, Robert
has got a good heart.

Henry never thinks of anybody but himself.

You're being unjust to him, Emily.

You haven't been married
to him for 18 years.

If that's how you feel,

I'm surprised you haven't left him.

And see him trotting
off with another woman?

No, thank you.

But if it would make him happy?

That's the best possible
reason for not doing it.

Emily.

I don't know how you
can be so unforgiving.

Why don't you let him go?

Do it for your own sake.

For my sake?

It isn't good for you to
feel so bitter and revengeful.

No wonder you're ill.

Rubbish.

But it's true.

People die of those feelings.

Or else they live on them.

Shall I tell you the only
reason why I'm still alive?

Because Henry would be so happy if I died.

Do you really mean that, Emily?

Of course I do.

(door thuds)

You're early, aren't you?

It's my afternoon out.

And by the way, you don't
mind if I'm a little bit late

getting back this evening, do you?

My sister is giving a party.

Peas, I'm so bored with peas.

[Caroline] Oh, well, I'll see

if cook has something else instead.

Wait, nurse.

Emily, you are having lunch with us.

No, no, I won't see him.

Nonsense.

He'll say he's sorry and
you'll forgive and forget.

And then we have a nice
little party to celebrate.

Oh, all right, all right.

Send Maisey in to help me to dress.

And I'll go and tell Henry.

Thank you.

Oh, that poor Mrs. Maurier.

She's terribly ill, isn't she?

Oh, it isn't her health
I'm thinking about.

It's, well, you know.

Miss Spence, I could tell you things

that would make your hair stand on end.

Sex, that's all they think about.

[Janet] What do you mean?

Men, I wouldn't trust any of them.

And a Frenchman into the bargain.

Does Mrs. Maurier suspect?

I mean, does she think
there's another woman?

Oh, he's clever enough
to keep things dark.

But I tell you, we wouldn't
be surprised at anything.

Mrs. Maurier and you seemed
to have to have talked things

over a great deal.

She knows I'm a friend.

Shall I tell you something, Miss Spence.

You know that brooch of hers?

That diamond dragonfly?

Yes, I know the one you mean.

She's going to leave
that to me in her will.

Not that I'm expecting her to die.

Though of course it might easily happen.

With her heart in that condition.

Hello, Henry.

Well, what news?

Peace or war?

Peace.

Oh, thank goodness.

Even if it's only an armistice.

Oh, come with me.

I want to show you something.

Oh.

A Modigliani.

You haven't bought it, have you?

Couldn't afford it
but couldn't resist it.

What an astonishing piece of work.

Yes and to think this
idiot went and died at 37.

When he might have gone on
painting this sort of thing.

I've got no patience with
people who die young.

Make a note of it, Janet.

You are invited to lunch
on my 80th birthday.

Are you sure you won't
be bored with me by then?

No.

I'll still be wondering what goes on

behind that mysterious
little smile of yours.

What is going on, by the way?

You won't answer.

Where is that sixpence?

Now you have to tell.

(door clicks)

My dear, I wouldn't eat those
redcurrants if I were you.

[Emily] Why shouldn't I?

Remember what Libbard said.

Nothing with skins and pips.

[Emily] But I'm so fond of currants.

That is no reason for
making yourself ill.

Don't be a tyrant.

Of course I believe in letting
her have what she fancies.

It does her more good than fussing

about with diets and things.

That's what I always tell Dr. Libbard.

All right, have it your own way.

Shouldn't you be going, nurse?

You'll miss your bus.

I just want to give
Mrs. Maurier her medicine.

No, don't bother.

I'll deal with the medicine.

You run along.

That's very kind of you I'm sure.

I probably shan't see you
until morning, Mrs. Maurier.

I hope you have a nice party.

Thank you.

Goodbye, Miss Spence.

[Janet] Goodbye.

Thank goodness.

Now don't blame me if
those things upset you.

Do I ever blame you?

You never have anything to blame me for.

I'm the ideal husband.

That isn't even funny.

It's nice to feel the sun on one's skin.

Ciara, my medicine.

Run and fetch it for me, will you?

The bottle on the sideboard.

Don't bother, Ciara.

I've got to go and get my cigars.

Thank you, sir.

Shall I pour the coffee for you?

[Emily] Please dear.

[Janet] You take sugar don't you?

Rather a lot, please.

Libbard always gives me the
most evil tasting concoctions.

Three lumps.

That ought to take the taste away.

And get one in the saucer.

Coffee for you, Henry?

And no sugar, thanks.

Here you are my dear.

Thank you.

Oh, too revolting, quick, my coffee.

Thank you, Janet.

(Emily chuckles)

You know.

I used to get punished for
this when I was a child.

Nothing to what I used
to get for doing this.

But now happily, one can
commit all the misdemeanors

with perfect impunity.

(Emily exhales)

Goodness, it's hot.

[Janet] Would you like
me to move your chair

into the shade, dear?

No, thank you.

I think I'll go indoors
and have a little nap.

[Janet] These first
warm days are very trying.

Sleep well, my dear.

Oh, by the way, I shan't
be in for dinner tonight.

[Emily] Where are you going?

Old Mr. Johnson wants to discuss

the new aviation company
he's interested in.

[Emily] You know how I hate
to be alone in the house.

My last evening at home, what's more.

Oh, I'm sorry my dear.

I didn't think you would
feel sentimental about it.

[Emily] Will you be very late?

No, no, of course not.

[Emily] Not later than half-past 10.

On the dot.

Well, good evening, Mr. Lester.

Good evening.

Has, has anybody been asking for me?

I'll inquire the desk, sir.

Good.

Get me a Martini while you're about it.

Very good, sir.

(gentle music)

Horrible, isn't it?

There ought to be a law
against those things.

Don't you think so?

I don't know.

Do you like music?

Not much.

You don't?

(Robert giggles)

That's bad.

Nothing for you at the desk, sir.

Mm-hmm.

He brought only one.

He can easily fetch a second.

No, thank you.

Thank you.

A teetotaler as well as a music hater?

Added to all this, you appear
to be practically dumb.

Now, there's a deal to
be said for dumb women

in every sense of that ambiguous word.

In the first place.

[Doris] Hello.

Sorry I'm late.

I'm so glad you came.

There's a man here
who's been bothering me.

What?

No, Henry.

Your eyes do not deceive you.

It is indeed your irresponsible

and half-witted brother-in-law.

Won't you introduce me to
this charming young person?

Doris, this is Mr. Robert Lester.

Miss Mead.

How strange life is, Miss Mead,

to think that you're practically
a member of the family.

I must tell Emily about this new addition

to the domestic circle.

She'll be delighted.

Excuse me, Doris.

All right.

How much do you want?

Well, Emily was about to give me 400.

When you in your wisdom
thought fit to intervene.

[Henry] All right, I'll give you 400.

Emily was giving, you're buying.

Not a penny less than 500.

Robert, you are a.

[Robert] Henry.

You know how I hate bad language.

All right.

Come round tomorrow,
I'll give you a cheque.

I'll come early.

Before Emily gets up.

Come whenever you like.

You'll always be equally unwelcome.

[Robert] This has been
a very memorable occasion,

Miss Mead.

I intend to celebrate our
meeting with some champagne.

You will feel better

if you ordered a bottle yourself, Henry.

Is he really your brother-in-law, Henry?

Yes.

I don't want to do
anything that's wrong.

It will be all right.

I'd rather give you up altogether.

Just because I love you so much.

Oh, darling.

Thank you, Doris.

You make me feel almost ashamed.

Robert was right about one thing, though.

We need some champagne with our dinner.

After all, who tells you
the world is not coming

to an end this evening?

Let us assume we have only six
hours before the last trump.

Six hours to make the best of it.

(suspenseful music)
(car engine revving)

Goodnight, McNabb.

(car engine revving)

(door clicks)

Libbard.

Is my wife ill?

They tried to reach you at Mr. Johnson's

but there was no news of you there.

Oh, no, I was detained.

I had a breakdown.

Your wife kept asking for you.

I'll go up to her at once.

I'm afraid it's too late.

Too late?

Oh, yes, I suppose she's asleep.

[James] Mrs. Maurier passed
away about four hours ago.

You, you mean she?

She's dead?

Unfortunately, I was not
there when they called me.

I arrived when it was all over.

The only person was with
her was Janet Spence.

Janet?

[James] Yes, the servants sent for her.

There was a violent attack of
nausea in the late afternoon.

And that is what knocked out the heart.

She must have eaten something
that disagreed with her.

At lunch?

[James] I suppose so.

(door clicks)

Oh, excuse me, I.

I saw the lights and I wondered if.

Is anything wrong?

Nothing except that
Mrs. Maurier is dead.

What do you mean?

She died of heart
failure while you were out.

It was because you let
her have those currants.

You remember?

I warned you at the time.

But you wanted to have
your own way, didn't you?

Is this true, nurse?

Well she liked them, sir.

But you know how strongly
I've always insisted

on a bland diet.

Well, I never thought that a few carb.

No, you didn't think that
they'd kill her, but they did.

Please, this is a professional matter.

We don't need rhetoric injected into it.

(Caroline sobs)

You'd better go up to
your room now' nurse.

I'll talk to you tomorrow.

Let us stick to facts, Maurier.

It may have been the
currants or it may not.

All we know is that something upset her

when she had a heart attack.

Can I, can I go up to her room?

I'll wait for you here.

(gentle music)

I've been nursing for 20 years.

And this is the first time

anyone ever had anything against me.

You mustn't take it so hard.

Oh, he's trying to ruin me, Miss Janet.

I'll never get another job.

Nonsense.

I couldn't wish for a
better nurse for my father.

That's very kind of you, Miss.

Did you know our nurse is leaving?

Yes, I had heard.

(gentle music)

I admit she's a good nurse.

I'm the first to admit it.

Nurse Braddock had no business

to go against my instructions.

I think I can tell you the reason.

She wanted to spite Henry.

To spite him?

What for?

She didn't like him, that's all.

Just because he belongs
to the male sex, I suppose.

Some of them get like that.

Janet.

I'm so thankful you were
with Emily at the end.

Yes, I think, I think it helped her.

Henry, try not to feel too
bitterly about that poor nurse.

She didn't mean any harm.

I know.

Hell is paved with good intentions.

She'll be out of the house tomorrow.

I'm gonna get her to come
and look after my father.

Well, I don't envy you.

I think, it's a good idea.

I can keep in touch with
her and drop in a lesson

from time to time.

Tell me about poor Emily.

Did she suffer much?

(Janet sobs)

Janet, it's been too much for you.

It was terrible.

It was so terrible.

I've never seen anyone die before.

I didn't realize.

I'm sorry, Henry.

I oughtn't to let myself go like this.

I can't keep the memory away.

I suddenly see her struggling for breath.

With that awful look of
fear and pain on her face.

Shall I take you home?

No.

No thanks, Henry, I've got my car.

You stay here with Dr. Libbard.

Goodnight.

Goodnight, Janet.

(door clicks)

There's nothing to say of course.

Just platitudes that don't mean anything.

One talks in one universe.

One dies and suffers in another.

I found that out when Margaret died.

You two were very close, weren't you?

We were married nearly 30 years.

30 years.

And yet.

It isn't the time that counts.

It's what you feel.

What you are.

Remember Emily as she was then?

Margaret used to say,

she looked like a
princess in a fairy tale.

Shall I tell you where
I was this evening?

It seems sufficiently obvious.

I suppose you think I'm
pretty contemptible, don't you?

I never thought of that.

But I feel extremely
sorry for you sometimes.

Being born with a lot of money.

It's no joke.

Heaven knows, it's dreary
work having to earn a living,

but, at least it gives a certain purpose,

a direction to one's life.

Whereas a rich man,

a man without a job or
a family to support,

he can afford to live discontinuously,

if you see what I mean.

Without any purpose but his
own tastes and appetites.

In other words,

he can afford not to
be a real human being.

Do you think I am capable of changing?

At this moment, yes.

But it easy to be heroic
in times of crisis.

What's difficult is to behave

even moderately well at ordinary times.

The question is,

how much will you want to
change a month from now?

Am I as weak as all that?

I simply don't know.

It wouldn't surprise me if you were.

Wouldn't surprise me if you weren't.

At 56, I've stopped being
surprised at anything.

Well, I must go to bed.

I've got a heavy day tomorrow.

(man whistles)

Be careful!

I am being careful.

Oh.

It's a speaking likeness. (chuckles)

I'd recognize it a mile off.

I'd give you such a
smack in the face for that.

[Ciara] Good afternoon, Miss.

What is going on?

Where is Mr. Maurier?

Didn't you know, Miss?

He's gone.

He's gone to Cornwall.

How very odd.

He didn't say anything to me about it.

He only made up his mind yesterday.

All of a sudden.

"Clara," he says to me, "I need a change."

So I says to him.

Did he say when he'd be back?

No, but we're having
the whole house repainted.

You know how long that takes.

Nelly, cook and Maisey and me

have got three weeks off from tomorrow.

Lucky beggars.

I wish I could have three weeks off.

Come on, Janet.

What a sky!

Isn't it wonderful?

But you're not looking at it.

No, I'm not.

(Henry speaking in foreign language)

Oh, stop it, I hate
it when you talk French.

I'm afraid, you'll have
to learn to put up with it.

For better, for worse.

In English and in French.

Till death do us part.

Darling, how much do you love me?

How much?

Let's see.

I would say about 17 times

as much as I love English cooking.

(Doris giggles)

No, this isn't a joke.

You're perfectly right.

English cooking is a tragedy.

That's why we're starting
for Paris tomorrow.

Paris?

Do you mean it?

Unfortunately, I've got to pick up

some papers on the way up to London.

You mean at your house?

Good.

Then I have a chance to
see what it looks like.

No, you won't.

You are going to wait for
me until Aunt Nelly's.

[Doris] But, darling.

I don't want anybody I
know to see us together.

Not until we are back from abroad.

You know as well as I do, how they talk.

But the servants are away.

You told me so yourself.
- I know, I know.

But the house is full of painters.

Not on a Saturday afternoon.

Tomorrow is Saturday.

Please let me come and
have a peep at it, please.

[Henry] All right, all right.

Thank you, darling.

Don't thank me.

Thank yourself.

(Henry speaks in foreign language)

If a woman is well, Heaven is well.

You know I can't help
feeling rather nervous.

[Henry] What about?

About meeting your friends.

About being Mrs. Harry Maurier.

Sometimes I wish we could
keep it a secret forever.

[Henry] That would be
romantic, wouldn't it?

You see, I left school when I was 16,

so I don't really know anything.

Look at the sort of people
you go out to dinner with.

Judges and Admirals, authors.

(Henry giggles)

And then me in the middle of them.

What do you expect me to do?

Don't do anything.

Just be.

That's good enough.

But after all, I'll
have to say something.

What on earth shall I say?

Well, ask them what they
think about the Einstein theory.

Henry, you're a beast.

You might at least pretend
to talk to me seriously.

After all, you talk
seriously to other women.

[Henry] Which other women?

Miss Spence for example.

You are serious with her, aren't you?

Oh, am I not?

That's precisely why I
married you and not her.

Which showed there may be
something more in marriage

than the ability to make
polite conversation.

(gentle music)

(knuckles rapping)

Oh, Janet.

(can clatters)

Curse these painters.

Janet, what a pleasant surprise.

[Janet] I thought you were in Cornwall.

I had to go to town unexpectedly.

So I took the opportunity

to do a little burglary on the way.

Without letting us know you'd be here.

I'm just riding through.

How did you know I was here?

I saw the lights.

Oh, and here you are.

Well, I'm delighted.

Now, let's see.

This seems to be
comparatively free of paint.

Sit down, will you?
- [Janet] May I?

I won't stay long.

I'm glad you came, Janet.

As a matter of fact, it will
save me writing a letter.

What's this?

Open it and see.

But Henry, it's Emily's bracelet.

And Emily would want you to wear it.

Me?

I don't know anyone who has
as much right to it as you do.

No, Henry, I don't deserve it.

Here, take it.

But Janet, she loved you.

She'd want you to have something

that would always remind you of her.

- No, I can't.
- Now, Janet.

I shall be offended if you don't take it.

Henry, do you want me to have it?

Of course I want you to have it.

I just felt it was too much.

It's not nearly enough.

It's really very beautiful.

Do you mind if I finish up
this little job while we talk?

[Janet] Of course not.

How did you like Cornwall?

Oh, beautiful.

(lightning crashes)
(thunder rumbles)

I love thunderstorms, don't you?

Frankly, I don't.

I once saw a man killed by lightning,

just a few feet away from me.

(rain pattering)

(lightning crashes)
(thunder rumbles)

Goodness!

This is like the overture
from William Tell.

I knew this would happen.

Heaven knows where they keep the candles.

No, don't, you're spoiling it.

(wind whooshing)

Look at the trees.

Writhing, struggling as if
they were trying to get free.

But they can't, they can't.

They're tied down.

One, two, three, four.

Less than a mile away.

Listen, what a relief.

What a liberation.

Like someone who kept everything
locked up inside herself,

and then suddenly she can let go.

You must have known
what that's like, Henry.

Know what what's like?

Poor Henry, you haven't had
much happiness in your life,

have you?

Oh, I've done pretty
well, things considered.

Health, money, books.

(lightning crashes)
(thunder rumbles)

Golly, how I hate this.

You're quite right, Janet.

I'm far from being happy at this moment.

You can make a joke of it,

but I know what you've been through.

The isolation.

The spiritual loneliness.

(lightning crashes)
(thunder rumbles)

Right overhead.

It's wonderful.

Like passion.

Now, now Janet.

You've been reading too many novels.

Passion, passion.

You know what I mean.

Loving so much or hating so much

that in time it breaks
out in spite of yourself.

Like lightning, like a thunderbolt,

like the wind and the rain.

And woe to the man who comes
out without his umbrella.

You know, that always makes
me think of Benjamin Franklin.

Sending his ridiculous little kite

into the middle of an
electrical convulsion.

Heaven knows why he wasn't killed.

He certainly asked for it.

Henry, we're free now.

We needn't pretend any longer.

I don't quite understand.

[Janet] I tried to hide it.

But you must always have known,

just as I've always known about you.

[Henry] About me?

Of course.

I knew what you felt.

And I knew you would never admit

out of a sense of honor and duty.

I respected you for that, even
though I suffered from it.

We don't have to think of
anyone but ourselves now.

Janet, really.

You don't understand.

We can't.

We mustn't.

Forgive me, Henry.

Please forgive me.

My dear.

Don't let us say anything more about it.

Your nerves are on edge, it's.

It's the thunder.

[Janet] I ought to have
known how you feel about it.

It's all too recent, too painful.

Poor Emily.

Emily?

Her face.

I thought I'd put it out of my mind.

So frightened.

So horribly frightened.

And I talked about, about
us, no wonder it upset you.

Can you forgive me?

Listen, Janet.

I think I ought to tell you.

While I was away in Cornwall.

What happened while
you were in Cornwall?

(Henry chuckles)

Well.

To cut a long story short.

I got married.

You got married?

Yes.

Someone you don't know,
as a matter of fact.

I've only known her for a few months.

But I'm sure you'll like
her when you meet her.

Of course, she is rather young.

Only about 18, as a matter of fact.

Quite a baby.

18?

[Henry] Yes, it's absurd.

So you see, she has
plenty of time to learn.

(Janet giggles)

[Henry] What are you laughing at?

Oh, nothing in particular.

Janet.

We're still friends, aren't we?

Of course, we are.

Better than ever.

Nothing like a good joke
to bring people together.

[Henry] A joke?

You didn't think I was serious, did you?

[Henry] No, no, of course not.

Well, I must be getting home.

[Henry] I'll take you in the car.

(lightning crashes)
(thunder rumbles)

You should see the roads.

I almost had to swim
back from Aunt Nelly's.

Oh.

Ah, Doris.

This is Miss Spence.

You've often heard me talk about her.

How do you do?

How do you do, Mrs. Maurier.

Even though it sounds too ridiculous

for an old woman like me
to be calling you that.

Do you mind if I call you Doris?

I'd love it.

[Janet] And you must call me Janet.

Yes, Miss Spence, I mean Janet.

Isn't she adorable?

(Henry chuckles)

Well, I'll get my coat.

Tell me, Doris.

Are you very, very happy?

Yes, I think so.

You only think so?

No, no, I don't mean that.

[Janet] I'm sorry.

Let's talk about something
else if it upsets you.

But I am happy.

Really and truly.

It's just that.

Well, I'm not very clever.

Henry seems to know everything.

You know, about art and things.

Art and things, oh, you sweet child.

(rain pattering)

Well.

Here we are.

I shan't be long, dear.

Henry, please let me go with you.

No, no, you stay here
and change your shoes.

But I don't want to.

What's the matter?

Afraid of the dark?

No, afraid of something else.

Can't you feel it, Henry?

You must be very insensitive.

[Henry] Feel what?

She's still here isn't she, Doris?

[Henry] All right, come on.

Let's go to the car.

Well, well, well, married, eh?

Sensible fellow.

High time this girl got married too.

You give her a talking to, Maurier.

Father.

[Henry] I'll do my best.

Well, where is she?

Take off that ridiculous hat.

That's better.

It's your mother when
we were first engaged.

The living image of her.

Turn around.

Yes, definitely so.

Do you remember the picture
of her in the riding habit?

That's the thing she was
wearing when I saw her first.

Don't you ever ride in
anything but a habit, my lady.

Women aren't the right shape for breeches.

Whereas the riding habit, well,

a man could still have illusions.

What's life without illusions?

Nasty, solitary, brutish and short.

And women's legs are
shorter even than life.

(Henry giggles)

Let's see you without
that hideous Mackintosh.

What a charming brooch.

(Doris chuckles)

Henry gave it to me.

Well, we really have to run.

We've got to be in London tonight.

And then, we'll taking the
early boat train in the morning.

Goodbye, General.

Goodbye, my dear fellow.

[Doris] Goodnight.

(rain pattering)

[Henry] Goodnight, Janet.

Goodnight, Mr. Maurier.

(rain pattering)

(car engine revving)

[Caroline] Well, I'm glad
poor Mrs. Maurier wasn't here

to see what has happened to her brooch.

Your brooch, really.

I was a fool to think I'd ever get it.

You don't get diamonds from a friendship.

He told me he'd known the
girl for several months.

That means, that even
while poor Emily was alive.

Pigs, that's what they
are, every one of them.

I tell you they've got no
shame, no decent feeling.

And now, when she's
scarcely cold in her grave.

It must have been a great relief to him.

You mean when she died?

[Janet] Seeing that he
wanted to marry the girl.

Who tells you he
didn't have to marry her?

I'd be ready to bet on it.

Then it was lucky for him

when poor Emily died when she did.

Just at the right time.

Just at the right time.

Miss Spence, you don't suppose?

Suppose what?

Why wouldn't he let
me give her medicine?

Why, you're not suggesting?

That's ridiculous.

That stuff he brought
back from the chemists.

[Janet] What's stuff?

Stuff for killing weeds.

I happened to look at the label.

I know what was in it.

So, that's why he made all that fuss

about those redcurrants.

Just to give himself an alibi.

You're not serious, are you?

[Caroline] I certainly am!

You're mad, it's unthinkable.

After all, I've known him for years.

You've known a Mr. Maurier.

The one who talks so nicely about pictures

and all that sort of thing.

But you've never known the one

who can't keep his hands off girls.

He'll do anything, I tell you, anything.

So why did it happen on the day I was out?

What difference does that make?

What difference?

I've seen these cases.

I recognize the symptoms immediately.

So what does he do?

He chooses a day when he knows
I won't be back until late.

Until it's all over in fact.

And then he goes out himself.

On the tiles most likely,
with that girl of his.

No, he wouldn't do that.

Oh, yes he would.

And when he comes home he turns on me

and says I killed her
with those redcurrants.

Currants, indeed.

After all, Dr. Libbard thought

it might have been the currants.

Yes, and why?

Because the other one keeps harping on it.

And so I have to take the blame.

I'm the scapegoat, I'm
the one to be crucified.

Well, I tell you I'm not going
to put up with it any longer.

And I'm not thinking only of myself.

It's a matter of principle.

I want to see justice done.

I want the whole world to know the truth.

You talk as though you knew it yourself.

I do.

I'm as certain of it now as I shall be

after they've had the post-mortem.

The post-mortem?

[Caroline] Yes, you know
what that is, don't you?

Do you mean to speak
to Dr. Libbard about it?

[Caroline] Dr. Libbard?

No, of course not,

he wouldn't want to admit
he'd made a mistake, no.

I know who to go to.

I know what I have to do.

It's horrible.

Digging up somebody after they're dead.

Just because there's some spiteful gossip.

That beastly nurse of yours.

I can't understand why you keep her.

My dear, don't be unreasonable.

You know quite well I
wanted to send her away

but Henry wouldn't hear of it.

Nor would Dr. Libbard.

Sending her away would've
mean we took it seriously,

and that's the last
impression we want to give.

We were having such a
wonderful time in Paris.

Then to be called back for this nonsense.

And the painters still in the house.

That horrible smell everywhere.

Darling, how dreadfully unkind of me.

I'd quite forgot to ask
you how you've been.

Is everything going as it should?

Well, I still feel sick in the morning,

if that's what you mean.

And Libbard is pleased with you, is he?

He seems to be.

It must be a strange, wonderful feeling.

You mean, to be going to have baby?

If you ask my opinion, I think it's awful.

It will be all right when
the baby is actually there,

but right now, I tell you I'd
rather have the measles again.

At least it doesn't last so long.

[Janet] Will you
nurse the baby yourself?

I don't know, I hadn't thought about it.

I would, if I had one.

I wouldn't feel it were
really mine if I didn't.

When do you expect Henry?

He ought to be back pretty soon.

How was he when he
went off this morning?

Rather worried, I suppose?

No, he was too angry to be worried.

It makes him furious the
way they're treating him.

[Man] Then you do not agree
with Dr. Libbard's diagnosis

as to the cause of death?

Yes, and no.

I am of the opinion that Dr.
Libbard was perfectly correct

in stating that death
was due to heart failure.

Where I differ from him
is in regard to the cause.

And what was the cause,
in your opinion, Dr. Dawson?

Arsenic, sir.

But that's impossible.

No interruptions, please.

You'll be given an opportunity

of speaking later on, Mr. Maurier.

Please go on, Dr. Dawson.

The organs were removed and examined.

Both Richard's and
Marsh's tests were used.

And the presence of poison

in considerable quantities
was clearly established.

Were the quantities sufficient
to constitute a fatal dose?

Unquestionably.

Do you know Mr. Maurier by sight?

Yes, sir.

Do you think you could
give him this note?

It's rather important.

All right, sir, I'll manage somehow.

Thank you.

Much obliged, sir.

[Man] it was one of
your duties, was it not

to bring Mrs. Maurier's
medicine to her after meals?

It was.

[Man] Did you bring
it to her after lunch?

On the day that she died?

No, I did not.

I'll wait until she finishes, sir.

Then when the next one is called,

I'll slip in and give him it.

[Man] Take the Testament
in your right hand.

Will you repeat the oath?

I swear by almighty God

that the evidence I shall give
the court shall be the truth,

the whole truth, and
nothing but the truth.

So help me, God.

So I took the coffee
things out into the garden

and put them down on the table.

And what then?

Mrs. Maurier says to me,

"My medicine, Clara, run and fetch it."

And did you go?

No, sir.

Why not?

Because Mr. Maurier says,

"Don't bother, Ciara.

I've got to go in and get a cigar anyway."

Thank you.

You may step down.

Adjournment.

(Judge speaks indistinctly)

The court will adjourn
until 2:30 tomorrow afternoon.

(door clicks)

Hello, darling.

It's too terrible.

Yes, it's terrible
because it's impossible.

And yet it's happened.

It's all my fault.

I oughtn't to have let you love me.

I knew we shouldn't have done it.

But I cared for you so much.

Darling, if they do anything
to you, I shall kill myself.

Don't talk nonsense.

(Doris sobs)

[Doris] Why did you do it, Henry?

Why did you do it?

You all seem to take it for granted

that I murdered my wife.

Do I look like the sort of man

who goes about slaughtering people?

To wring her neck and
let the devil take her?

I suppose you imagine I was
so insanely in love with you,

that I would do anything, anything!

When will you women understand

that all one asks for,
is a little amusement.

And a quiet life!

Instead of which.

Well, I don't know why the
devil I ever married you.

Why did any man in his right mind

ever marry any woman for that matter?

[Doris] Henry!

(door thuds)

(Doris crying)

(car engine revving)

Maurier.

Libbard.

I've just been sent for, to your house.

What for?

Your maid told me over the phone

that your wife had taken poison.

Taken poison?

Fortunately, it was
only more than a overdose

of sleeping tablets,

I've told them what
emergency measures to take,

so I'm hoping it won't be too serious.

Get in.

(car engine revving)

Is it the result of what
happened at the inquest?

Yes, yes, that and other things.

I got angry because she
took it for granted that I,

well, that I was responsible
for what happened to Emily.

I said a lot of things
I should not have said.

I see.

Libbard, do you think I did it?

No, I don't.

Then how did it happen?

(Libbard sighs)

One of them tries to kill herself.

Perhaps the other succeeded?

But why?

Why?

Ask yourself, Maurier.

If you were a woman,

would you have been very
happy as Mrs. Henry Maurier?

I'd rather you didn't come up.

Very well.

Well.

That's that, young woman.

Two days in bed and you
can do what you want.

No more of this sort of thing, remember.

What's to prevent me?

Nothing, except your own
common sense and common decency.

He doesn't love me, I
don't want to go on living.

Who cares what you want?

Who's interest in your
beastly little emotions?

Why not think of somebody
else for a change?

I think of Henry all the time.

No, you don't.

You think of yourself
in relation to Henry,

which is a very different proposition.

Thank you, Maisey, you may go.

Remember, if you wake up in the night

with cramps in your intestines.

Don't blame Henry.

It's your own fault entirely.

There.

You're quite right, Dr. Libbard.

It was wrong.

I promise I won't do it again.

[Libbard] Good girl.

No, no, I'm not good.

That's why all this is happening.

Tell me, how can I help him?

Well.

In the first place, you
must believe in him.

Through thick and thin
in spite of everything.

That's the first thing.

Then whatever happens, you must be strong.

Be calm, no tears, no harrowing scenes.

They are just an indulgence, that's all.

Some women cry as easily as a big grunt.

And they enjoy it very nearly as much.

So don't do it.

Don't do it.

And finally, remember you
are going to have baby.

That's probably the best thing

that's ever happened to Henry.

So for goodness sake, don't
let's make a mess of it.

(door clicks)

You see who is here?

(door thuds)

Is she all right?

Flourishing.

And there isn't gonna be more
of this sort of nonsense,

is there Doris?

I'm so thankful you got here in time.

Yes, but it would have been better

if there hadn't been
a need for me to come.

Goodbye, Doris.

Goodbye, Henry.
- Goodbye, Dr. Libbard.

Thank you.

(gentle music)

Can you forgive me, Doris?

Darling, I'm the one
who needs to be forgiven.

It was all selfishness, really.

I can see it now.

I was trying to spite you.

Trying to get my own back.

I began it I'm afraid.

[Doris] I ought to have known better.

(Henry giggles)

At 18?

To think I tried to kill myself.

And everything so
beautiful, so mysterious.

Even that fly on the ceiling.

Even that silly old doll you tore to bits.

And this.

How wonderful it is
simply being able to move

from one place to another.

It's empty here.

It's empty there.

Just think of you in your own emptiness.

If everything was so jammed
full you couldn't move,

like, like in a coffin.

That's death.

That's hell.

But darling, I was forgetting.

Before you came back I
rang Imperial Airways.

There's a plane leaves
Croydon in the morning.

This is Friday, there's a
whole weekend in front of us.

We could be in Africa
before they found out,

or in Turkey or.

Henry.

You still believe I did it?

But I don't, I don't.

Then why did you
suggest, I should run away?

Oh, I've been a fool again.

I made you angry.

It's only because I love you so much.

Because I was so terribly anxious

in case you couldn't make them understand.

Shall I tell you something?

I said a very stupid thing this afternoon.

I said I didn't know
why I ever married you.

Well, perhaps I didn't know it then.

But now I do know.

I know very well.

What?

Because I love you.

Oh, darling.

When the medicine was
brought from the house.

Who poured it out?

Nobody did.

It was brought out in a wine glass.

In a what?

In a wine glass.

Oh, I see.

Mr. Maurier poured it out in the house?

Yes.

Could you see him pour it out?

Not from where I was sitting.

But of course, knowing Mr.
Maurier as I do, I feel certain.

[Judge] That's sufficient, thank you.

It's utterly unthinkable.

I'm here to determine
facts, Miss Spence.

Not to speculate about what
is or is not thinkable.

Thank you, you may go now.

I propose to recall Mr. Maurier.

Henry Maurier.

And we now come to a
rather painful subject.

Tell me.

Were you acquainted with
the present Mrs. Maurier

before the death of your first wife?

[Man] With all respect, sir.

I fail to see what bearing this question

can have upon the present inquiry.

You will please allow me

to conduct the proceedings
in my court in my own way.

Will you please answer
the question, Mr. Maurier?

I had been acquainted with her

for about four months, I think.

Mrs. Maurier's maid has testified

that after lunch you offered to go

and fetch your wife's medicine.

Is that the case?

[Henry] Yes.

Did you bring it back, the medicine?

In the bottle?

No, I poured out two
tablespoonfuls into a wine glass.

And I swear to God I added nothing!

[Judge] Please, please.

I'm sorry.

But I must protest.

You will kindly confine yourself

to answering my questions, Mr. Maurier.

(clears throat)

Was anyone with you in the room

when you poured out the medicine?

No.

Clerk, do you have the ledger there.

Will you please show it to this witness.

On the fourth line from the top.

Do you recognize your signature?

I do.

Mrs. Filmore's records show

that on the day before Mrs. Maurier died.

You purchased a tin of weed-killer.

Is that the case?

Yes.

Are you aware that the weed-killer

in question is a powerful poison?

Yes.

Shortly before
purchasing the weed-killer,

did you have a quarrel
with the late Mrs. Maurier?

Yes, I suppose you could call it that.

[Judge] Thank you, that is all.

Well, here we are.

Sure you won't change your
mind and come with us?

No.

We'd start by feeding the dogs.

It's good to be with dogs for a change.

Takes your mind off your troubles.

(both giggles)

Wouldn't have minded being a dog myself.

A comfortable kennel, free meals.

Unlimited access to the
females of the species.

When you're old they shoot you.

No wheelchairs, no
torture, no blasted nurses.

One bang and it's over.

(chuckles)

Put on your things and come with us, do.

No, father. I'd rather not.

It would help you to sleep
if you took some exercise.

Please.

A good brisk walk,
that's what you need, dear.

And then five minutes of deep breathing.

I'm a great believer in deep breathing.

That and abdominal massage.

Up the ascending colon,
across and then down,

up, across and then down 40 or 50 times.

I used to do it for poor Mrs.
Maurier every single day.

Poor thing, poor thing.

Well, she'll sleep easier
in her grave after this.

Hurry up, quick.

All right, all right.

Have you got your bag of dog biscuits?

We'll be back in time for tea.

Don't let it get you down.

[Woman] Doctor Libbard, Miss.

Show him in.

(door thuds)

I just dropped in to see
how things were going along.

Father seems very well.

He's just gone out for his walk.

And you?

Ah.

Not much of a credit to
your physician, I'm afraid.

If I don't sleep tonight I shall go mad.

You've still got some
of that stuff I gave you,

haven't you?

It doesn't seem to work anymore.

Dr. Libbard, you don't
know what it's like.

Night after night, I
can't stand it any longer.

This wretched business
with poor Maurier.

You mustn't let it prey on
your mind too much, you know.

I know, naturally, but, well I.

I mean, I can't help feeling
dreadfully sorry for him.

Sorry if the light bothers you.

Hold still just one moment.

Mm-hmm.

Do you wear these things all the time now?

[Janet] I find the light very trying.

It's been like that ever since
I started sleeping badly.

Then of course, poor Emily.

You were very fond of her, weren't you?

Oh, yes.

Yes, I loved her.

Well, wouldn't that account
for all your troubles?

Grieving over the death of a friend?

And what a death.

What a death.

Suicide at the best.

Murder at the worst.

And remember.

Macbeth hath murdered sleep.

He murdered it for a lot of
other people as well as himself.

(gentle music)

Look what I found in
the garden this morning.

Give that here.

Can't I give it to him?

It's just a four-leafed
clover, that's all.

Well, it's against the regulations.

But I don't see any harm in it.

You think it's awfully silly, don't you?

It's not silly to love someone.

It's the only thing that makes any sense.

How does Libbard think you're getting on?

All right.

Darling, let's calls him Patrick.

Call whom?

Libbard?

(Doris chuckles)

No, I mean if it's a boy.

[Henry] Oh, I see.

And if it's a girl?

Well.

What about Belinda?

Ah, no, no, there I draw the line.

[Doris] But it's such a pretty name.

Do you see me running after the child

in Kensington Gardens, and
yelling "Belinda, Belinda."

(chuckles)

There are limits, my dear.

We're taking certain things
for granted, aren't we?

Darling, you mustn't say such things.

After all, you haven't
done anything wrong,

so what can they do to you?

Besides, you've got your
four-leafed clover now,

and we won't call her Belinda, I promise.

But don't imagine that will prevent you

from making an ass of yourself.

Any man looks an idiot

when he's trying to keep
a tiny child in order.

I shall roar with laughter
and you'll be furious.

But then a moment later,
you'll be laughing too.

It will be so wonderful, Henry.

Will it?

Of course it will.

(door clicks)

Sorry ma'am, time's up.

Goodbye, darling.

Goodbye.

(gentle music)

[Cop] Come on.

When driving the car,

did you ever observe signs of intimacy

between the accused and
the present Mrs. Maurier?

Yes, sir.

There was considerable embracing.

(crowd laughing)

[Man] Silence, silence!

(crowd chattering)

[Man] On more than one occasion?

Yes, very frequently, sir.

[Man] I have no questions
to ask this witness, Milord.

Caroline Braddock.

Caroline Braddock.

Janet.

Sorry if I've frightened you.

[Janet] Have they called you again?

No, I've been sitting
in court with Doris.

Do you think?

I mean, how is everything going?

Not too well, I'm afraid.

You mean, for Henry?

Yes.

They're all coming home to roost,

every one of the follies
he ever committed.

And goodness knows, there
were enough of them.

Do you remember in the Gospel,

men and women who were
possessed by devils?

I sometimes wonder if that's
the only plausible explanation

of some of the things we do.

Things that we know are
against our own interests.

Things that are obviously
wrong and idiotic and suicidal.

And yet we do them.

Or is it somebody else inside
us that makes us do them?

If it's somebody else, then,

then we wouldn't be responsible, would we?

I think I'd better get back.

[Man] Did the accused

and the late Mrs. Maurier ever quarrel?

All the time.

When did they have their last quarrel?

On the day before Mrs. Maurier's death.

[Man] Was it violent?

To judge from what I heard
of it, it must have been.

[Man] And what did you hear?

I heard Mr. Maurier say
he wished she was dead.

(crowd chattering)

The day before she died
of poisoning, remember.

The deceased wrote as follows,

"Robert, darling.

Here with the cheque,

Henry tried to prevent you from having.

He was horrible to me after you were gone.

He said he wished I was dead.

I can't see you tomorrow.

But come the day after

and we'll decide definitely
about the journey.

Ever, your affectionate Emily."

Now.

Did you see your sister again

after you received this letter?

No, I didn't.

She wrote it on Tuesday afternoon.

I got it on Wednesday morning.

And on Wednesday evening, she died.

[Man] When she was taken ill that night.

The servants sent for
you, is that correct?

Yes.

Did you see Mrs.
Maurier alive that night?

Yes, I was with her until the end.

[Man] Was she unconscious
at the time you came?

No, she was fully conscious.

Then she was able to speak?

[Janet] Yes, she was able to speak.

Did she say anything about poison?

No.

No, she didn't seem to
realize she'd been poisoned.

Nothing to indicate that the
poison was self-administered?

No.

Nothing.

Now, what are the motives for the crime?

There were two of them.

Among the lowest

and most contemptible
of all human passions.

Lust and avarice.

His wife is rich.

She has made a will in his favor.

Her life is heavily insured.

And now to the lure of money,

is added the compulsion of
another even stronger passion.

When his wife falls sick,
what does this man do?

Does he sit beside her bed to comfort her?

Does he devote himself to
alleviating her sufferings?

No.

He wanders abroad in search of low

and criminal distractions.

He finds a young and innocent girl.

He flatters and cajoles her.

He dazzles her with a
display of his wealth.

And fascinates her by his
knowledge of the world.

True, he denies the fact of his adultery,

but, nevertheless,

he cannot deny the fact
of his infatuation.

The unhappy invalid at home is unaware

of what has happened.

And yet, and yet how terrible for her,

are the consequences of that infatuation.

Her presence becomes
increasingly irksome to him.

Her very existence is a
threat to his pleasures.

More and more, he wishes
her out of the way.

And at last that wish is
translated into action.

The poison, is bought.

Here, you've been
transferred to Wandsworth.

Wandsworth?

But that is where?

But you can't, there is the appeal.

You'll hear about
that in plenty of time.

Hold out your hands.

Poor devil.

Vengeance is mine, said the Lord.

I never was so glad of
anything in my life.

But I have some wonderful
news for you, Miss Janet.

Friday the 24th.

But aren't you pleased?

You had better go now, Miss Braddock.

Oh, very well, but I
thought she would be pleased.

After all, when a
criminal gets his deserts.

That's enough.

(door clicks)

When a criminal gets his deserts.

But is he a criminal?

I still don't believe it.

I didn't believe it, either.

Now, after everything they
brought out at the trial,

one must believe it.

Must one?

I've just been reading
a very interesting book.

It's an analysis of well
known cases of people

who are condemned for
crimes they never committed.

But they proved it.

They proved it in
these other cases, too.

Sometimes it was a matter
of deliberate false witness.

Sometimes it was nothing more
than circumstantial evidence.

Piled up.

It all pointed in one direction.

The conclusion was obvious and inevitable.

And yet that conclusion was wrong.

After all the case is closed now.

It can never be reopened, never.

So what is the good of talking about it?

It's just silly.

I don't want to discuss it any more.

They proved it at the trial, that's that.

Not to my satisfaction,

I just can't believe that
Maurier is responsible.

Then who was?

What about Emily herself?

Suicide?

No, Emily would never
have committed suicide.

[Libbard] Yet she often complained

that she was tired of life.

I never heard her say that, never.

Neither did nurse Braddock
if I remember correctly.

I must say I was very surprised

when she said that at the trial.

I don't know what she
said and I don't care.

Maurier cared.

It carried a great deal
of weight with the jury.

Somebody who'd been
with Emily day and night

for the best part of two years.

And she never heard a whisper of suicide.

Yet suicide was the main line of defense.

I'm not interested in lines of defense.

I'm interested in the truth.

I'm interested in justice.

And if you are trying to insinuate things.

If you are accusing me of
telling lies, just because,

why do you let me go on?

Why don't you stop me?

People don't like
being stopped as a rule.

You,

you were very fond of poor
old Henry, weren't you?

[Janet] Yes, I liked him.

I liked him very much.

Emily used to say that if she died,

you and Henry ought to get married.

Married?

Him and me?

Why that's monstrous!

How dare you.

[Libbard] I'm only
repeating what Emily said.

Talking about me as if I
were one of those women of his.

One of those, those.

It's disgusting as it's contemptible.

I'm sorry, Doctor Libbard.

Don't apologize to me.

I'm not the one who's got insomnia.

What do you mean?

You're getting all worked up

about Henry's tastes in women.

It doesn't help you to sleep, you know.

You don't imagine I spend
my time thinking about that,

do you?

Well, you were thinking about
it just now, quite loudly.

Do you ever think about poor Emily?

Of course I do.

After all, she was my best friend.

And when you do sleep, do
you ever dream about her?

Those are the dreams
that make me wake up.

[Libbard] I suppose you dream of her

as she was when she was dying?

Yes.

And sometimes I see her sitting
out there in the garden.

Just as she was drinking that coffee.

I thought it was the medicine

he was supposed to have
put the poison into.

Yes, of course, the medicine.

I meant the medicine, I
don't know why I said coffee.

Henry didn't give
her the coffee, did he?

I really don't know.

Somebody must have.

Anyhow, it's of no importance is it,

seeing that everything has been proved.

Quite.

Quite.

Oh, I wish it were all over.

All over?

You seem to think this business

is like something in the movies.

Or in a novel.

You seem to think it has an ending.

At eight o'clock on Friday
week, to be precise.

I don't know what you're driving at.

I'm driving at some
way to make you sleep.

Well, this has been a very
interesting talk, Dr. Libbard.

But whether it's going
to cure my insomnia,

that's another question.

Personally, I put more
faith in sleeping tablets.

Janet.

Do you remember meeting
a young Doctor Carter

at my house this spring?

Yes.

I've known him ever since he was a boy.

He's a very nice fellow.

Kind, sensible, conscientious.

And he's turned out to be
a first-class psychiatrist.

No thanks, I don't wanna
go to a psychiatrist.

[Libbard] But you wanna
get well, don't you?

I'm not ill!

Not that way.

I know you.

You're going to tell them I'm mad.

And then they'll lock me up and torture me

until I say things.

It's a plot.

Everyone is plotting against me.

Nobody is plotting anything.

That's a lie.

You said it yourself.

You want me to go to a
doctor for mad people.

It won't do any harm.

He'll just ask a few questions
and find what's on your mind.

I've told you again and again.

I haven't anything on my mind!

It's just that I can't sleep.

But he'll help you with that.

He'll put you to sleep if you let him.

You mean he'll hypnotize me?

[Libbard] Well, what's
so alarming about that?

Send me to sleep and then
make me say a lot of things

I don't want to say?

When I shan't even know I've said them.

No, no, I won't, I won't.

[Libbard] Janet,

be reasonable.
- Don't touch me.

[Libbard] Janet.

I'll kill you, do you understand?

(door thuds)

A Miss Spence to see you, Maurier.

Don't mind us.

Carry on as if we weren't here.

It's difficult to believe
that you are quite real.

Nothing is quite real anymore.

(bell clangs)

That clock.

When one thinks about time.

Draining away like blood from
a wound and you can't stop it.

It just goes on quietly flowing
until there isn't any more.

Then you're dead.

Was that half past three?

Yes, that was half past three.

Four and 12 makes 16, and 24.

40 hours.

A little more than 40 hours.

It's like being at the
edge of a huge black pit

and something is pushing you from behind.

Perhaps it would be more bearable

if it made some kind of sense.

If at least, one could believe

that there is such a thing as justice.

There is.

Janet.

I didn't do it.

I swear by all that is sacred.

Sacred?

What is sacred?

Do you remember that night?

That night when there was a thunderstorm?

You talked about Benjamin
Franklin, you know,

sending up his little kite
to attract the lightning.

A sort-of scientific practical joke.

Well, sometimes the joke comes off.

Sometimes the lightning comes
down the string and then,

well, people get killed.

Get killed?

And whose fault is it they get killed?

The fault of the lightning?

Or the fault of the man

who thought it would be
fun to play tricks with it?

I don't understand what you mean.

Well, don't try.

Just imagine a little
group of boys at school,

"What does your father do?"

"Oh, he's a Barrister."

"What's yours?"

"He's an engineer."

"And yours?"

"My father is dead."

"He died before I was born."

"He died in a place
called Wandsworth prison."

Janet, don't.

Did I ever ask for mercy?

Did you ever think of showing it?

Never.

I never said anything

when you amused yourself at my expense.

Janet, I didn't do that.

What else were you
doing all those years?

Beckoning me on.

Calling me to you.

And then at last, when I came to you,

you hit me across the face

and then ran off to have a good laugh

with that filthy little beast.

How dare you say that!

Yes, how dare I.

Do what you like but never said it.

That's shocking, that's disgusting.

How old was she Henry,

when she first started doing these things?

18?

17?

Slut riding and pawing.

And you call it love, love!

Filth, that's what it was.

And you threw the filth in my face

and then roared with laughter.

Why don't you go on laughing, Henry?

Laugh.

Laugh, this is all part of the same joke.

Don't you understand?

Janet.

You don't mean it?

40 hours more, that's all.

And you asked me to lunch
on your 80th birthday.

Why don't you laugh?

Goodbye, Henry.

Janet, Janet, Janet!

Janet!

(Henry speaking faintly)

She was the one.

She did it.

[Man] Keep quiet.

But she told me.

She confessed.

Janet!

Janet.

Janet!

Don't be a fool.

But she's the murderer, she told me.

But it's true, I swear, just let me go.

There, that's better, now sit down.

Tell her to come back.

Make her say it again
in front of witnesses.

Keep quiet.

Let me go, let me go, let me go!

(bell clangs)

Time passes slowly.

Not for him.

Eight o'clock at Wandsworth.

There but for the grace
of God goes James Libbard.

And there but for the grace
of God, goes Janet Spence.

Happily, there was the grace of God.

It's still possible to do it.

To do what?

To have the execution postponed.

Why should it be postponed?

Well, if an entirely
new fact were to turn up.

They've proved it.

The jury thought they proved it.

But do you?

Of course, you know the basic reason,

why poor Emily was so dreadfully unhappy?

What was that?

Because she wouldn't accept
the facts as she found them.

She was an invalid, she'd lost her looks.

She wanted to be treated

as though she were young and pretty.

What has that got to do with me?

That is for you to answer.

I'm only pointing out if
it's possible to come to term

even the most terrible facts.

Old age.

Sickness.

Death.

Yes, even with one's own
wickedness and folly.

Those are just words, that's all.

Just words.

But they can always be
translated into actions.

Listen, Janet.

I can quite understand your
not wanting to go to sleep

until you feel that you're safe.

But did you ever stop to analyze the word?

Safe from what?

Safe in which respect?

One can shut the door against one danger

and be wide open to another.

Look at yourself.

You want to be safe from death.

But at what price?

At the price of feeling guilty.

At the price of being driven
mad by the sense of guilt.

And what then?

In your madness, won't you
try to do away with yourself?

But then again, that's death.

You run away from death.

And what do you run into?

Death.

Madness.

And death.

But if you don't run away.

If you face the facts.

If you accept your destiny.

There's something like a certainty

that you will escape madness.

And a very good chance of escaping death.

Well.

I'll think about it.

I'm terribly thirsty.

Would you like a drink?

Yes, that's a good idea.

[Janet] I'll get one for you.

Kali, isn't it?

The great mother.

And precisely because she is a mother,

she's also the Goddess of destruction.

If you give life, you also give death.

Inevitably.

I must say they had a pretty
realistic view of the world,

these old Hindus.

(glass thuds)

Ow.

Oh, I beg your pardon.

I'm really most awfully sorry.

I don't think it will
harm the carpet, do you?

Just a little fizzy water
and a spot of alcohol.

Do I get another?

Let me do it for you.

No, no, let me.

That's Emily's bracelet, isn't it?

Yes.

I thought I recognized it.

(Libbard chuckles)

It's really rather grotesque
when one comes to think of it.

Executing a man for
murdering a dead woman.

Murdering a dead woman?

What do you mean?

Well, that's what she was.

Two months, three months,
four months at the outside.

That's all she had in front of her.

You mean, if she hadn't been poisoned.

She would have been dead
in two or three months?

[Libbard] That's it.

(Janet giggling)

What are you laughing at?

I don't know.

Nothing.

(gentle music)

(Doris sobbing)

I'm sorry.

Your poor hand.

Did you do that yesterday?

Yes, I did it yesterday.

Darling.

I want to tell you something.

It happened to me last
night, quite suddenly.

In the middle of a paroxysm
of rage and despair.

It was like, actually hearing your voice.

Only there weren't any words.

There was just a kind
of absolute certainty.

A certainty?

I knew that everything was
finally all right, I knew it.

It's true.

Of course.

One has got to face
things as they really are.

One has got to forget what
one would like them to be.

Tell me, my darling.

Have the leaves started to turn?

They're all golden now.

[Henry] Even the beech trees?

Yes.

I remember when I was a little boy.

Walking in the beech woods.

I used to pretend that the dry
leaves were heaps of money.

Knee-deep in gold.

Like the Count of Monte Cristo.

Then.

Death.

You know, if you accept it.

It's all right.

But if you refuse to
accept it, then you go mad.

[Doris] But I can't accept it, I can't.

Shall I tell you what was hardest?

Accepting the fact that I
shouldn't ever see you again.

I wish I were dead.

I wish I'd never been born.

This is nothing to do with one's wishes.

After all, we did not ask to be born

but we've got to put up with life.

Even if we don't like it.

Even if we can't understand it.

And mind you, we can never understand it

while we are actually living it.

Life has to be lived forward.

But it can only be understood backwards.

So, there it is.

That's what I suddenly understood.

Meanwhile, what was I doing?

The exact opposite of what had to be done.

Knocking my hands to
pieces, driving myself mad.

Raving against the injustice of the thing.

[Doris] But it is unjust.

From the outside, yes.

From other people's point of view.

But you know, if you accept
injustice has been done to you.

If you say to yourself, well,
this is what has happened.

And I put up with it, I actually will it.

Well, if you can do this,

then in some strange mysterious way,

the nightmare makes a kind of sense.

I know it's difficult to
explain but it's true.

Oh, before I forget.

I want you to promise me something.

Don't see too much of Janet.

Don't let her have anything
to do with the baby.

But darling, she's
always been so sweet to me.

I know she has.

But all the same, will you promise?

I promise.

I could tell you all the reasons,

but it would take too long.

Besides.

What is the point?

Let the dead bury their dead.

Why bother about the past.

I'm glad you didn't come
to see me yesterday.

Why?

Yesterday, I should
almost have hated you.

Hated me?

Yes, hated you for being free.

For having all your life in front of you.

Whereas I was here, in a few hours.

You love me, don't you?

And I love you, Doris.

And love casts out fear.

Of course, it also works
the other way round.

Fear casts out love.

Yesterday there was nothing but fear.

Today.

Today it's different.

Two, three.

Can I do a fourth?

Another Queen.

Let's see what I can do.

Jack of clubs.

Oh, my goodness.

Well, here goes.

Mine, all mine.

You're no good at all.

Well, I'm not clever enough.

This is a game for a quiet intellect.

Are you ready?

[Libbard] Mm-hmm.

At last, a King!

One, two, I'm finished.

I'm done for.

I owe you 10 million pounds.

11 million.

11, is it?

Ah, well.

Well, anyway, here is sixpence on account.

(Janet giggles)

I'll pay off the rest by installments.

Tuppence a week until the last judgment.

(Janet giggles)

Agreeable?

(rain pattering)

It's raining.

I like rain.

I like it when it rains really hard.

(lightning crashes)
(thunder rumbles)

When there's thunder, lightning.

Oh, that girl.

It's too horrible.

I hate him.

I hate him!

(clock ticking)

Do you know what the time is?

Only two minutes.

Two minutes.

That's all.

Then you will be safe.

Safe.

I'll be safe.

(lightning crashes)
(thunder rumbles)

They must have got everything
ready on the scaffold.

The rope.

The straps.

And now they are going down the stairs.

There's the Governor of
the prison, the Chaplain.

They are walking along the corridor.

It isn't far, just a few steps.

They are at the door.

Someone puts a key in
the lock, and turns it.

The door opens and there he is.

There he is.

(bell clangs)

Just because she was 18.

Because of her mouth, because of her skin.

Oh, God, God, God, God, God.

(Janet crying)

It's all right, no
need to worry about it.

Sleep now.

Hold still.

This won't hurt.

Quite still.

(Janet exhales sharply)

Let yourself go.

Feeling comfortable?

Yes.

You feel quite safe now, don't you?

Safe.

Yes, absolutely safe.

Tell me, Janet.

How did you get her to take the poison?

I put it in the coffee.

You thought he would
ask you to marry him, hmm?

No, no, I don't want to talk about it.

[Libbard] But it's true, isn't it?

I can't tell you.

[Libbard] You thought that he loved you

as much as you loved him.

It's too awful, it's too humiliating.

All right, I won't torment you anymore.

You can sleep now.

Deep sleep.

Warm, soft, dark.

Like black velvet.

Think of black velvet and black fur.

No light coming in.

No dreams to interrupt you.

Just sleep.

(gentle music)

Hello.

Give me a toll calls, please.

Battersea 6160.

Hello?

Oh, that Wandsworth prison?

This is Doctor James Libbard speaking.

I want to speak to the
Governor, please, at once.

Yes, it's official business connected

with the Maurier case.

Yes, it's extremely urgent.

All right, I'll hold on.

(gentle music continues)