All language subtitles for Strong.Poison.Ep.03.srt

Paper! Paper!

Miss Harriet Vane
to face retrial!

Date fixed for new hearing!

Paper! Paper!

Charles!
What have you found?

Look, Peter,

I don't want you
to become too optimistic.

You get Bunter to track me
halfway cross London,

you must have
found something.

Philip Boyes...
the missing ten minutes.

We found the pub,

and it seems that
there was a man there

who fits
a description...

A man who answers to
the description of Boyes?

And what's more,
feeling ill

and producing a packet
of white powder.

The arsenic?
could have been arsenic.

Wonderful!
Excellent news!

I knew you'd
react like this.

Why not?

Because I am convinced
that this suicide theory

you have about Boyes
is rubbish.

Rubbish?!

Your vision's clouded
because of her...Harriet Vane.

Peter, can you tell me
in all honesty

that you're not
allowing your judgement

to be affected
by your emotions?

Yes, I can.

Peter...

Not arsenic...

Bicarbonate of soda.

Bicarbonate of soda...

How wonderfully mundane.

Anti-climactic,
to say the least.

So I was wrong
about Philip, then...

killing himself.

Now it looks
more than ever as if I did it.

You mustn't give way.

That's easy to say.

I've come up with something
very interesting,

something that could...

Peter, please!

What?

Don't. Please, don't,
you know...

tell me things
to give me hope.

No, no.

I'm not making things up
to cheer you.

I'm going straight from here
to visit Miss Climpson,

a lady of infinite resources.
Peter...

No, hear me out.

I'm sending her
on a mission,

and I'm absolutely certain
that this one is the key.

Peter, I...you are...

you're very sweet, but...

But? Me no buts.

I'm certain now, really.

How's the story
coming along?

It isn't.

It's too close to me,
I suppose.

I was trying to think
of something funny to say...

I...I can't.

It would be awful
if you were funny all the time.

Yes. It would,
wouldn't it?

(Sobbing)

All: Good morning,
Lord Peter.

'Morning.

Oh! Lord Peter.

I feel rather silly
to be caught like this.

I just dropped my eraser,

and it seems to have taken
an eccentric bounce.

Forget your eraser,
Miss Climpson.

I have a job for you.

You seem, Lord Peter...
Your tone!

Yes, I'm in a rotten mood.

I'm sorry,
it's nothing personal.

But the fact is,

I can't think of anyone
but your good self

to do this job
I have in mind,

and it's urgent.

How kind of you
to put it like that.

And I don't in the least know
how you set about it.

Depends on what you'll find
when you get there.

Might I suggest
you sit down

and try to encapsulate
the essence of what it is

you wish me to do.

You are to go to Windle, in...

Oh. Thank you.

Windle, in Westmorland,

and seek out a paralyzed
and imbecile old lady

called Mrs Wrayburn.

She lives in a house
called Appleford.

I don't know
how you get in there,

but there must be somebody
who looks after her.

But anyway,
you have to get in

and find out where
her will is kept.

When you've got it,
you are to read it

and let me know
what the contents are.

Oh, dear.

And what's more,

you've only got a week
to do it in.

That's a very short time!

Miss Vane's life
may be at stake.

Unless I can find
a very good reason for delay

in the form of new evidence,

the case is bound
to come up on the 17th.

Dear me!
And I have nothing.

Except for this...
except this idea,

which you must
turn into evidence.

Well...

one can only do one's best.

This investigation of mine
is directed, I take it,

at Mr. Urquhart?

Yes. He is Mrs. Wrayburn's
great-nephew.

Yes. I wasn't
absolutely sure

to what degree
they're related.

Find out anything at all
to his disadvantage.

And this imbecile
and paralyzed old lady,

as you describe her,

must have some
female companion.

Yes. A nurse, possibly.

And that, I think,

is where I could
play the Trojan horse.

The...the sleuth
in sheep's clothing?

Ha ha ha!

Well...
when do I start?

Peter:
The cards simply aren't working for me at all this evening.

Third hand I've played

and never once
looked like getting out.

Hardly surprising,
m'lord.

As you say,
hardly surprising.

And it would be
the queen of spades.

I shouldn't attach too much
importance to it, m'lord.

(Doorbell)
I'm hardly at home to anyone, Bunter.

Shall I ignore it,
m'lord?

No. Better see who it is.

Evening, Bunter.
Old Peter at home?

Hardly at home
to anyone.

Evening, Mr. Freddy.
Come in.

Thank you, Bunter.

Evening, old bean.

Dear old thing...
a welcome surprise.

How goes the world?

Um, have a drink.
Give Bunter your coat.

Can't stay.

En passant,
as the frenchies say.

Time for a tot, surely?
Scotch, Mr. Freddy?

No, mustn't linger.

Called by, really,

to give you the dope
on Urquhart.

Just got it from my chappie

that he did do
a pretty high dive

into Megatherium Trust,

and therefore must have
lost a considerable packet.

That is good news.

One man's misfortune,
and all that.

Now I can hope only
that Miss Climpson

is storming the battlements.

The battlements?

Miss Climpson:
"Well, Lord Peter.

"At the third attempt,

"I found this
quite suitable boarding house.

"It is very well run
and refined,

"and there are
three elderly ladies

"who are permanent boarders
here,

"and are well up
in all the gossip of the town,

"so that nothing
could be more advantageous

"for our purpose.

"This morning I went out for
a little voyage of discovery.

"I found
a very helpful policeman

"in the town square,
and asked him

"where I might find
Mrs. Wrayburn's house.

"He knew it quite well,

"and told me
to take the omnibus,

"and it would be
a three ha'penny ride

"to the Fisherman's Arms,

"and then about
fifteen minutes walk.

"So I followed his directions

"and the bus took me
right out into the country.

"I made further enquiries
concerning the house

"from the conductor,

"and once again

"he was most helpful
and polite

"and told me
which direction I should take

"to the Wrayburn house.

"I looked at it from the road
for some little time,

and then decided
I must get a closer look."

"The grounds are enormous!

"It was a delightful walk
up the long private road

"that approached the house,

"but I began to feel
a little uneasy,

"in case my presence
might cause suspicion

"to the inhabitants.

"The garden seemed
very neglected,

"and as I drew nearer,

"I could see that
most of the blinds were drawn,

"as though
the greater part of the house

"was uninhabited.

"I was certainly
not seeing anybody about.

"I turned away,

"and was considering
what I should do next,

"when something prompted me
to turn back.

"it was most fortunate
that I did,

"for this person
turned out to be Miss Booth,

"nurse and guardian
to Mrs. Wrayburn...

"and reputedly with an interest
in Spiritualism.

"Or so my friend Mrs. Pegler,

"a very stout, fussy old lady
with a very busy tongue,

"informed me.

"I then discovered
that Miss Booth

"was in the habit of
frequenting a cafe in Windle

called the Oriental."

(Ladies chatting)

Excuse me,

does this little package
belong to you?

I picked it up
just outside the door.

No, it's not ours.

Excuse me,

is this little parcel yours?

Uh, no, no.
it isn't mine.

So kind of you,

but I only have
two articles,

and they're both here.

Oh, how very odd.

I felt sure someone
must have dropped it

coming in here.

I wonder what
I'd better do with it?

I shouldn't think
it's very valuable,

but one never knows.

You could hand it in
to the cashier

in case
the owner comes back.

How clever of you.

You must think me
very foolish,

but the idea
never occurred to me.

I'm not very practical,
I'm afraid.

I could never take up
your profession, could I?

Any little emergency
leaves me quite bewildered.

Largely a question
of training.

And self-training, too,
of course.

All these
little weaknesses can be cured

by placing the mind
under higher control,

don't you think that?

Yes, I suppose
that's true.

Such a mistake to imagine that
anything in the mental sphere

is either large or small.

Our least
thoughts and actions

and equally directed

by higher centers
of spiritual power,

if we can bring ourselves
to believe that.

What would you
like to order, madam?

Oh. Oh, dear.

I seem to have
intruded myself on your table.

Oh, don't get up,
please.

You're quite sure?

I don't wish
to interrupt you.

Not at all.

I live a very
solitary life.

Always glad
for a friend to talk to.

How very nice.

Well, I'll have
scones and butter

and a pot of tea,
please.

Thank you, mum.

Ahem.
yours is just coming, mum.

Pardon me,

but I see you're
a student of Spiritualism.

A very...elementary student.

Isn't it a wee bit,
um, dangerous?

I have been told
I'm a sensitive, myself,

but I've never
dared to try.

It's not dangerous
if you know the right way.

Unfortunately, I'm not
Mediumistic, myself.

Did you say you have
Mediumistic qualities?

Well, I have been
told so, yes.

You're obviously
a very sympathetic person.

It's quite possible

we could get good results
if we sat together.

And the spirits

are pathetically eager
to communicate.

Of course,
I wouldn't like to try

unless I was
sure of the person.

There are so many
fraudulent Mediums around.

But with someone
like yourself,

one would be
absolutely safe.

Well, I'm not sure...

Oh, please, I do know
we are a sympathetic blend.

Oh. Well...

Well, I'm willing to try.

Good.

Good.

"I have stormed the citadel.

"I am going
to the house tonight,

"and you may expect
great things.

"In haste to catch
the evening post,

"yours very sincerely,

Katherine A. Climpson."

(Playing Handel sonata)

(Clicking noise)

(Click click)

"Ever loving Harry"--

Harry...

First-class frame,

pride of place,

fresh flowers...

I think Harry's passed over.

Yes...

Sorry to keep you waiting.

The old dear was
particularly trying this evening.

But she'll be all right now
for a couple of hours.

Perhaps we can
make a start.

Oh, yes,
straightaway!

I'm so eager to try.

This is the table
we usually use.

Do we sit in the light?

Not full light.

Strong light
shatters the spirit, you see.

So I usually use
one of these.

It's quite bright enough
for taking notes, you see.

Will you take them?

Very well.

Which side
shall you sit?

Oh, this will do for me.

You don't mind
the light behind you, then?

No, no, not at all.

Good.

It will help
screen the rays

from the table,
you see.

Yes, that's rather
what I thought.

Yes. Right.

Ohh...

(Whispering)
Did you get something?

A feeling
like pins and needles

in my fingers.

So have I.

We'll get something soon.

My wrists ache rather.

That's the power
coming through.

Yes...
that's what I thought.

Ohh...

I feel sure
there's a power all about us.

Oh! Oooh!

I could feel a cold thrill
on my spine!

I have a feeling like...

...as though something were
gripping the back of my neck.

Don't move!

My arms have gone dead
from the elbow.

Shh! So have mine.

Oh! Oh! I'm tingling
from head to foot!

Oh!

Ohh!

Ohh...

Ohh!

Is there a spirit there?

(Click)

Oh!

Will you give
one knock for "Yes,"

And two for "No"?

(Click)

(Gasps)

Are you one of the spirits

who have visited me before?

(Click click)

Are you speaking on behalf
of another spirit?

(Click)

Does he want to speak
to my friend?

(Click click)

To me, then?

(Click)

Ohh!

Ohhh!

Ohh!

Is it the spirit
of a woman?

(Click click)

A man?

(Click)

Is it the spirit

I've been trying
to communicate with?

(Click)

Will you speak to me

by means of the alphabet,

using one knock for "a,"

And two for "b," and so on?

(Click)

What is your name?

(Click click
click click)

(Click click
click click)

"h"!

(Click)

"a".

(18 clicks)

"r"!

Oh! Is it...

Is it Harry?

(Click)

Ohh! Ohh!

Ohhh! Ohh!

Oh, Harry! At last!

Ohhh...

Ah, you dear Harry.

Are you happy?

(Click)

Yes?

(Click click)

No?

Oh, Harry,

it wasn't my fault, was it?

(Click click)

Oh! Oh, thank you, Harry,

because it is true,
you know...

well, of course,
you must know, mustn't you?

Do you have
a special message for me?

(No clicking)

Do you, Harry?

Please tell me you do have

a special message for me.

Harry?

Ohh....

Oh!

Oh, I'm quite
exhausted!

Oh! You are
a wonderfully strong Medium!

Did you get the answers
you wanted?

Oh, yes, indeed!
Didn't you hear?

I...I didn't follow it all.

Unfortunately,

you just got to
the most important question

when the power left you.

But perhaps
after a cup of tea?

Oh, yes, Lucy,

a cup of tea
would be lovely!

Right away, Katherine,
right away.

I'll make some tea

and have a quick check
of Mrs. Wrayburn.

Just rest awhile.
I won't be long.

(Sighs deeply)

(Door closes)

Katherine:
C-r-e-m...

Do you mean Cremorna?

Cremorna...

Cremorna Garden?

Rosanna Wrayburn?

(Altered voice)
I am Rosanna Wrayburn,

and I seek your help.

Oh! But...

Mrs. Wrayburn,
I've just left you.

Have you passed over?!

No, not yet.

In exile.

Are you still
in the body?

Not in the body,
not out of the body...

What you call "the mind"
has departed,

the spirit awaits
the great change.

Ohh..

You wanted our help...

Are you in trouble,
Mrs. Wrayburn?

Trouble! Great trouble!

My will!

You want to alter your will?

No, but you must
make haste...

Send it to Norman.

Norman Urquhart?

Yes, yes.

He knows.

But make haste.

The will...
is it in the safe?

Make haste...

The will!
Is it in the safe?!

Ohh...

She's left you,
hasn't she?

Ohh!

How extraordinary!

I never knew
I had the gift!

I was completely
taken over!

Oh, dear!

I wish she'd answered
about the safe.

Yes, that's a pity,

but that's obviously
the place to look,

isn't it?

Yes, but there's
a combination.

Combination?

Yes, and I don't know
what it is.

Oh, dear.

You have a wonderful gift,
Katherine.

Well, I don't know
about that, Lucy...

Katherine!
Yes?

You don't think
that Mrs. Wrayburn has died, do you?

Oh, no, no.

You heard her...

"Waiting for
the great change."

Oh, of course...

The great change.

The little black book!

Little black book?

I've seen
Mr. Urquhart consult it!

Do you know
where it is?

It's in
the dressing table!

Dressing table...
has it got a lock?

Yes, but I know
where the key is.

Come on! Come on!

It's all right,
Mrs. Wrayburn.

We're going to
carry out your wishes.

Lucy: 4...

0...

8.

Well...

Isn't that splendid.

It was so late
I stayed the night!

I was hoping
to get the opportunity

to steam open
the envelope,

but unfortunately,
it didn't occur.

I've just left Miss Booth now
at the Post Office,

dispatching it
to Mr. Norman Urquhart.

She wrote an excellent
covering letter,

which she showed me,

explaining the circumstances,
but mentioning no names.

Isn't that good?

Anyway, I'm afraid now,
Lord Peter,

it's up to our Miss Murchison
to uncover the secrets.

You must contact her
without delay.

I will do that,
Miss Climpson.

And you've done
a wonderful job...

Wonderful!

Oh!

Is anything the matter,
Mr. Pond?

No, nothing.

A foolish letter

from a foolish member
of your sex.

Well, that's
nothing new.

Can you read shorthand,
Mr. Pond?

No! In my day,

that was not
considered necessary.

I couldn't quite make out
this outline.

It looks like
"give consent to,"

but it could be
"give consideration to."

There's a difference,
isn't there?

There most certainly is.

Perhaps I'd better not risk it,
it's got to go off this morning.

I'd better ask him.

I've told you,

I like you to knock
before entering!

I'm so sorry,
I forgot.

Now, what is it?!

I couldn't quite
make out my shorthand note

from your letter
to Duke and Peabody,

and I thought it better
to come and ask you.

I do wish you'd
take your notes more clearly.

If I'm going to fast for you,
you should tell me.

It would save time and trouble
in the end, now, wouldn't it?

Yes, Mr. Urquhart.

Yes. Well, now,

what seems
to be the trouble?

Harriet: "Stone walls
do not a prison make,

"nor iron bars a cage.

"minds innocent and quiet

"take that for an hermitage.

"If I have freedom in my love

"and in my soul I'm free,

Angels alone that soar above
enjoy such liberty."

(Bells toll in distance)

Oh, damn!

Good heavens!

Oh!

"The real estate is left
to Philip Boyes absolutely.

"59,000 pounds is left
to Philip Boyes also,

cash."

50,000 cash!

"The remainder
is left to Norman Urquhart,

who is appointed
sole executor."

Sole executor who's already
gambled away Boyes's 50,000

on the Megatherium Trust!

And there you have it...
motive.

Motive, Miss Murchison!

Yes, Lord Peter.

I knew there was
something fishy

about that will.

But I still
can't understand why,

after she was so badly treated
by the Boyes family...

There was
a relevant paragraph.

"the greater part
of the property

"is left to Philip Boyes

"in token that the testatrix

"forgives the ill-treatment
meted out to her by his family,

for which he, Philip,
was not responsible."

Rather touching, what?

All becomes clear,
eh, Freddy?

The will was dated
June 5th, 1920,

and the witnesses were
Eva Gabbons, housekeeper,

and John Briggs,
a gardener.

Congratulations,
Miss Murchison.

We will celebrate immediately
with a bottle of Pommery!

Before we do,
Lord Peter,

I think you
should see this.

There was about two ounces
of this mysterious white powder

in a packet
in Mr. Urquhart's safe.

My word...

what have we here?

This is work for
Bunter's darkroom, I'd say.

It's working,
or something.

Lovely, lovely.

Miss Murchison:
Is that arsenic?

I hope so.

It's either arsenic
or antimony.

Allow me, m'lord.

Addition of a small quantity
of solute chlorinated lime

should decide the question
beyond reach of cavil.

Arsenic,
definitely.

Of course
it's arsenic.

Didn't I always say so?

Is that all?

Isn't that enough?

Not quite.

Quick, Bunter,
pour the champagne.

Parker's about to
pour the cold water.

Parker: We've merely proved

that Urquhart has arsenic
in his possession.

By the way,

I notice it's ordinary
white arsenious acid

without any mixture
of charcoal or indigo,

which agrees
with what was found

at the postmortem.

Now, that's satisfactory.

Thank you, Bunter.
help yourself.

Thank you,
m'lord.

But it would be
even more satisfactory

if we could provide
an opportunity

for Urquhart to have
administered it.

Unfortunately,
all we've done so far

is demonstrate clearly

that he couldn't
have given it to Boyes

during the dinner.

I.e., in exactly the period
right for the symptoms...

when they later appeared.

No, to convince a jury,

I should prefer
something better

than a credo quia impossible.

Riddle-me-right
and riddle-me-ree,

we've forgotten something,
that's all.

Probably something
quite obvious.

Give me
the statutory dressing gown

and an ounce of shag

and I will endeavor
to dispose of

this little difficulty
in a brace of shakes.

In the meantime, Parker,

I trust you will stand by
to arrest the right man

when the moment comes.

Gladly.

(Peter playing Beethoven's
Pathetique sonata)

(Clock chiming)

(Stops playing)

I've got it, Bunter.

Permit me to offer
my congratulations, m'lord.

Almost...

Not quite.

I couldn't sleep,
m'lord.

I wondered if I could
get you anything.

No, thanks.

Let's have
a cigarette.

Been thinking about

what appears to be
the crux of the matter.

Crux, m'lord?

Hmm.

Obviously,
it's that last meal

between Urquhart and Boyes.

That's the crux
and the key.

Sit down, Bunter.

Now...

Hannah Westlock said

that nothing
that was eaten upstairs

wasn't eaten by herself
and cook later.

Her actual words, m'lord,

were, "Cook and me
had just the same,

"and all as sweet as could be,

'cept, of course,
for the omelette."

The omelette.

It was made
with four eggs.

Yes, m'lord,

and Hannah Westlock remarked
that one of the eggs was...

cracked.

"but they was
the last four in the 'ouse."

The last four
in the house.

One of them was cracked...

through that crack,
Bunter,

there shines
the light of revelation.

A light burning with
ever-increasing brightness,

a light...blinding
in its intensity!

Would you care
for cocoa, m'lord?

Hannah Westlock
and your way with the ladies.

You are to play upon
her susceptibilities once more

and discover the name
of Urquhart's hairdresser.

Mr. Urguhart's
hairdresser?

And when you have found it,
you are to pay him a visit.

Within the next few hours,

the guilty party
will be arrested,

and Harriet Vane,
completely vindicated,

will be a free woman.

But the retrial
is tomorrow, Peter,

are you really
that confident?

Absolutely
and completely.

I would never...
I may be a bit of a fool...

But never would
I make such a...

Peter...
I do believe you.

Thank you.

It's just hard for it
to sink in, you know.

It's hard to believe
the end of the nightmare.

Yes. It'll take some time,

no doubt about it.

You have been wonderful
the way you...

the way you're supported me
and acted on my behalf.

It was nothing.

You are the woman I want to
spend the rest of my life with,

how else could
I have behaved?

You're such
a romantic, Peter.

A sort of
latter day knight errant,

searching for opportunities

to perform deeds of valor,
rescue damsels in distress...

What's wrong
with that?

I've had a lover, Peter,

I've been accused
of murdering him.

I'm not going to
rush into another affair.

Marriage.

Marriage, affair...
what's the difference?

It's supposed
to be love, isn't it?

I'm sorry.

And I'm sorry.

Sorry I can't
say I love you.

And even...

because I do like you...

even if we did get married,
it wouldn't be fair to you,

so please
stop asking me,

I...I don't know,
I can't think.

I can't see beyond
the next two weeks.

I just want
to be out of this, to be left alone.

I'm going away.

I've always
wanted to travel...

To Greece, Venice...

You're such a romantic,
Harriet.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha!

At least I can
make you laugh.

And surely that's
better than tears.

(Ringing)

Yes, Pond?

Oh, put him through, please.

Ah, Lord Peter.

This is an unexpected pleasure.

A drink this evening?

Oh, I should be delighted.

Six o'clock it is, then.

I shall look forward to it.

Bunter: I thought perhaps
the cordon bleu, m'lord?

That'll do
splendidly.

Very good, m'lord,
I shall decant it at once.

Oh, and make some of that
filthy turkish coffee

for Mr. Urquhart.

I'll have my usual Mocha.

M'lord.

Urguhart: My dear Lord Peter,

all that you've been
saying for the last hour

regarding my unfortunate
cousin's demise

is most interesting,

but really, there is
nothing fresh there, is there?

You know, these really
are excellent...

excellent! Mmm!

The genuine
eastern variety.

Bunter's choice.

I'll tell him
it was appreciated.

Perhaps I'd better come
to the latest discoveries...

Megatherium Trust,
for example.

Megatherium Trust?

Played pretty steeply there,
didn't you?

I had some shares
in it, yes.

Some losses?

Best part of
50,000 pounds, I'd say.

50,000 pounds?
But that's ridiculous!

About the same amount
as was left to Philip Boyes

in the genuine will...

The original will
drawn up by you

under Mrs. Wrayburn's
instructions.

Now, in the phony will,

it was stated that
nothing should be left

to any member
of the Boyes family

on account of
the abominable treatment

meted out by that family
to Mrs. Wrayburn,

but...

I quote from
the genuine will...

"The greater part
of the property

"is left to Philip Boyes

"in token that the testatrix
forgives the ill-treatment

"meted out to her
by his family

for which he, Philip,
wasn't responsible."

May I ask how
you have obtained

this very remarkable
information?

The police.

Wonderful thing,
police organizations.

Remarkable what they
can come up with

when they
put their minds up to it.

More coffee?

No, thank you.

You're not
denying any of this, I assume?

Well, I'm listening.

When you have finished
this extraordinary statement,

I may perhaps discover
what it is I have to deny.

Simply the poisoning
of Philip Boyes.

You must admit,
the motive is there.

Well, allowing that
this preposterous accusation

were true,

which I must
emphatically deny,

I would be most
interested to know

how you imagine that
I administered the arsenic.

Have you worked out
something ingenious for that?

It was, in fact,
the whole episode of the meal...

with the careful accounting
for every dish

to support the idea

that nothing could
possibly contain poison...

that attracted my attention
to you right from the start.

It was the omelette,
wasn't it?

The omelette?!
Oh, that's ridiculous!

I mean, I ate it with
absolutely no ill effects,

and damnit, my cousin
made it himself!

So he did...

four eggs,
if I remember rightly.

I think I'm also right in saying
that one of them was cracked

when they were
brought to the table.

Well, possibly.
I don't remember.

But Hannah Westlock does.

It is, in fact,

quite easy to introduce
a little powdered arsenic

into a cracked egg...

I've made the same
experiment myself.

Are you suggesting that in
whisking four eggs together,

one particular poisoned egg

was somehow kept miraculously
separated from the rest

and deposited with
this load of arsenic

at one end
of the omelette only?

Or that my cousin
deliberately helped himself

to the poisoned end
and left the rest to me?

Not at all.

I'm merely suggesting that
the arsenic was in the omelette

and came there
by way of the egg.

Well, there seems to be
flaws in your theory,

as well as in the eggs.

Continuing on
the subject of omelettes...

that is to say, arsenic...

it's not good for people
in the general way,

as you know,

but there are these
tiresome Syrian peasants

one reads about so much,
who take it for fun...

Good for the wind, they say,
clears the complexion,

keeps the hair sleek.

They give it to their horses
for the same reason.

Not that horses
have complexions, of course,

though hair, certainly,
and, as we know, wind.

But I digress.

No, no,
most interesting.

And it is attested
that that horrid man Maybrick

increased the dose
of liquor arsenicalis

taken in a tonic over
a period of 18 months by 75%.

That's enough to kill
an ordinary person.

But you know all this.

I certainly do not!

You see,
it occurred to me, old thing,

that if you'd had the idea
to give yourself a whatsit...

an immunization...

you could easily enjoy

a jolly old
arsenical omelette with a friend.

It would kill him,
but it wouldn't had you.

This is a monstrous
accusation.

Then how do you account

for the packet of arsenic
found in your office?

And how do you account
for this?

Clippings of
your hair and nails,

by kind permission of your
pretty little manicurist Susie,

and bung full of arsenic...
explain that, if you will.

I have for some time
been taking a medicine

containing slight
traces of arsenic.

Dr. Grainger will furnish you
with the prescription...

That may have left a deposit
in my hair and skin!

I repeat...this is
a monstrous accusation!

And how is it that tonight
you have taken a dose of arsenic

sufficient to kill
two or three ordinary people?

The sweetmeats
you've been guzzling

for the last
hour and a half

are smothered
in white arsenic.

You should have been
rolling about in agony

for the last hour.

Damn you, Wimsey!

You've tricked me!

You've got me by a vile,
damnable trick!

Yes, we have
got you, Urquhart.

We certainly have
got you.

It's all right.

It's only icing sugar.

Oh, damn you...

Damn you!

Damn you!!!

Barrister:
I understand, my lord,

that further information
has come to the police

which definitely proves
the entire innocence

of my client.

I also understand, my lord,

that a further arrest
has been made

and that an enquiry
will follow.

My lord, this lady must go forth
into the world acquitted,

not only at this bar,

but the bar of public opinion.

Any ambiguity
would be intolerable.

And I'm quite sure, my lord,

that I have the support
of the Attorney General's office

for what I say.

By all means.

I am instructed
to say, my lord,

that in withdrawing
the charge against the prisoner,

the Crown proceeds from
a complete conviction

of her innocence

and offers no evidence
against her.

Judge:
I am very glad to hear it.

Prisoner at the bar...

The Crown, by unreservedly
withdrawing

this dreadful charge
against you,

have demonstrated
your innocence

in the clearest
possibly way.

After this,
nobody will be able to suppose

that the slightest imputation
rests upon you.

And I most heartily
congratulate you

on this very satisfactory ending
to your long ordeal.

(Tumultuous applause)

Judge: Order! Order!

Come on!

Are we going
to have coffee to celebrate?

I will telephone you.
Maybe we shall have tea.

'Bye, dear.

Good-bye.

Thank you
very much.

Harriet: I'm going away...

I've always
wanted to travel...

to Greece, Venice...

Peter: you're such
a romantic, Harriet.

Harriet: Ha ha ha!

Peter: At least
I can make you laugh.

Harriet: And surely
that's better than tears...