All language subtitles for Rebecca.1940.REMASTERED.BDRip.x264-RedBlade

Last night
I dreamt I went to Manderley again.

It seemed to me I stood by the iron gate
leading to the drive,

and for a while I could not enter,
for the way was barred to me.

Then, like all dreamers,

I was possessed of a sudden
with supernatural powers

and passed like a spirit
through the barrier before me.

The drive wound away in front of me,

twisting and turning
as it had always done.

But as I advanced, I was aware
that a change had come upon it.

Nature had come into her own again,

and little by little
had encroached upon the drive

with long, tenacious fingers.

On and on wound the poor thread
that had once been our drive.

And finally there was Manderley.

Manderley ‒ secretive and silent.

Time could not mar
the perfect symmetry of those walls.

Moonlight can play
odd tricks upon the fancy,

and suddenly it seemed to me
that light came from the windows.

And then a cloud came upon the moon

and hovered an instant
like a dark hand before a face.

The illusion went with it.

I looked upon a desolate shell

with no whisper of the past
about its staring walls.

We can never go back to Manderley again.

That much is certain.

But sometimes in my dreams

I do go back to
the strange days of my life

which began for me
in the South of France.

No! Stop!

What the devil are you shouting about?

Who are you? What are you staring at?

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare.
But I... I only thought ‒

Oh, you did, did you?
Well, what are you doing here?

I was only walking.

Well, get on with your walking.
Don't hang about here screaming.

I'll never come to Monte Carlo
out of season again.

Not a single well-known
personality in the hotel.

Stone cold! Waiter.
Garçon. Call him.

Tell him to get me some ‒

Why, it's Max de Winter.

How do you do?

- How do you do?
- I'm Edith Van Hopper.

It's so nice to run into you here,

just when I was beginning to despair
of finding any old friends here in Monte.

But do sit down
and have some coffee.

Mr. de Winter is having coffee with me.
Ask that stupid waiter for another cup.

I'm afraid I must contradict you.
You shall both have coffee with me.

- Garçon. Coffee, please.
- Oui, monsieur.

- A cigarette?
- No, thank you.

You know, I recognized you
just as soon as you came in,

though I haven't seen you since
that night at the casino at Palm Beach.

Perhaps you don't remember
an old woman like me.

Are you playing the tables much
here at Monte?

No, I'm afraid that sort of thing
ceased to amuse me years ago.

I can well understand that.

As for me, if I had a home like Manderley,
I should certainly never come to Monte.

I hear it's one of the biggest places
in that part of the country,

and you just can't beat it for beauty.

What do you think of Monte Carlo?
Or don't you think of it at all?

Oh, well, I think it's rather artificial.

She's spoiled, Mr. de Winter.
That's her trouble.

Most girls would give their eyes
for a chance to see Monte.

Wouldn't that rather defeat the purpose?

Now that we've found each other again,
I hope I shall see something of you.

You must come and have a drink in my suite.
I hope they've given you a good room.

The place is empty. So if you're
uncomfortable, mind you, make a fuss.

Your valet has unpacked for you,
I suppose?

I'm afraid I don't possess one.
Perhaps you'd like to do it for me?

Well, I... I hardly think ‒

Perhaps you could make yourself useful
to Mr. de Winter if he wants anything done.

You're a capable child in many ways.

That's a charming suggestion,
but I'm afraid I cling to the old motto:

"He travels fastest who travels alone."

Perhaps you've not heard of it.
Good night.

What do you make of that?

Do you suppose that sudden departure
was intended to be funny?

Come, don't sit there gawking.
Let's go upstairs.

- Have you got the key?
- Yes, Mrs. Van Hopper.

I remember when I was younger
there was a well-known writer

who used to dart down the back way
whenever he saw me coming.

I suppose he was in love with me
and wasn't quite sure of himself.

Well, c'est la vie.

By the way, my dear,
don't think that I mean to be unkind,

but you were just a teeny, weeny bit
forward with Mr. de Winter.

Your effort to enter the conversation
quite embarrassed me,

and I'm sure it did him.

Men loathe that sort of thing.
Oh, come. Don't sulk.

After all, I am responsible
for your behavior here.

Perhaps he didn't notice it.
Poor thing.

I suppose he just can't
get over his wife's death.

They say he simply adored her.

Louis.

Oh! How awkward of me.

What a stupid thing to do.
Oh, I'm so sorry.

Please don't bother.
It doesn't really matter.

Leave that. Leave that.
Go and lay another place at my table.

- Mademoiselle will have lunch with me.
- Oh, but I couldn't possibly.

- Why not?
- Oh, please don't be polite.

It's very kind of you, but I'll be all right
if they just change the cloth.

I wasn't being polite.

I should have asked you to have lunch with me
even if you hadn't upset the vase so clumsily.

Come along. We needn't talk to
each other if we don't feel like it.

Thank you very much.

Oh, I'll just ha-have
s-some scrambled eggs.

Oui, mademoiselle.

- What's happened to your friend?
- Oh, she's ill in bed with a cold.

I'm sorry I was so rude to you yesterday.

The only excuse I can offer is that
I've become boorish through living alone.

You weren't really.
You simply wanted to be alone, and ‒

Tell me, is Mrs. Van Hopper
a friend of yours or just a relation?

No, she's my employer.
I'm what is known as a paid companion.

I didn't know companionship
could be bought.

I looked up the word "companion"
in the dictionary once.

It said, "a friend of the bosom."

I don't envy you the privilege.

Oh, she's very kind, really,
and I have to earn my living.

- Haven't you any family?
- No, my mother died years and years ago.

And then there was only my father.

And he died last summer,
and then I took this job.

How rotten for you.

Yes, it was rather, because,
you see, we got on so well together.

You and your father?

Yes. He was a lovely person.
Very unusual.

- What was he?
- A painter.

- Ah. Was he a good one?
- Well, I thought so.

But people didn't understand him.

Yes, that's often the trouble.

He painted trees.
At least it was one tree.

You mean he painted the same tree
over and over again?

Yes. You see, he had a theory that if you should
find one perfect thing or place or person,

you should stick to it.

Do you think that's very silly?

Not at all.
I'm a firm believer in that myself.

And what did you find to do with yourself
while he was painting his tree?

Oh, I sat with him and I sketched a little.
I don't do it very well though.

- You're going sketching this afternoon?
- Yes.

- Where?
- I haven't made up my mind.

- I'll drive you somewhere in the car.
- Oh, no, please. I didn't mean ‒

Oh, nonsense.
Finish up that mess and we'll get along.

Thank you. It's very kind of you.
But I'm not very hungry.

Oh, come on.
Eat it up like a good girl.

You've taken long enough for that sketch.
I shall expect a really fine work of art.

Oh, no, don't look at it.
It's not nearly good enough.

Well, it can't be as bad as all that.
Don't rub it all out. Let me see it first.

- It's the perspective. I never can get it right.
- Let me see.

Oh, dear. Tell me, is it the perspective

that gives my nose
that curious twist in the middle?

- Well, you're not a very easy subject to sketch.
- No?

- Your expression keeps changing all the time.
- Does it?

Well, I'd concentrate on
the view instead if I were you.

Much more worthwhile.

It rather reminds me of our coastline at home.
Do you know Cornwall at all?

Yes. I went there once
with my father on holiday.

I was in a shop once,
and I saw a postcard

with a beautiful house on it,
right by the sea.

And I asked whose house it was,
and the old lady said, "That's Manderley."

- I felt ashamed for not knowing.
- Manderley is beautiful.

To me, it's just the place
where I was born

and have lived in all my life.

But now, I don't suppose
I shall ever see it again.

We're lucky not to be home
during the bad weather, aren't we?

Hmm.

I can't ever remember enjoying swimming
in England until June, can you?

The water's so warm here
that I could stay in all day.

There's a dangerous undertow,
and there was a man drowned here last year.

I never have any fear of drowning.
Have you?

Come. I'll take you home.

Oh, yes. I know
Mr. de Winter well. I knew his wife too.

Before she married, she was
the beautiful Rebecca Hildreth, you know.

She was drowned, poor dear,
while she was sailing near Manderley.

He never talks about it, of course,
but he's a broken man.

I suppose I'd better have it.
Wretched stuff!

Give me a chocolate, quick!

Oh, there you are. It's about time.
Hurry up. I want to play some rummy.

She was
the beautiful Rebecca Hildreth, you know.

They say he simply adored her.

She was the beautiful
Rebecca Hildreth, you know.

I suppose he just can't
get over his wife's death.

She was the beautiful
Rebecca Hildreth, you know.

But he's a broken man.

- Bonjour.
- Well, where are you going?

- Oh, I thought I'd take a tennis lesson.
- I see.

I suppose you've had a look at the pro,
and he's desperately handsome

and you've conceived
a schoolgirl crush on him.

All right, go ahead.
Make the most of it.

- Off duty?
- Oh, yes.

Mrs. Van Hopper's cold has turned into flu,
so she's got a trained nurse.

- I'm sorry for the nurse. You keen on tennis?
- No, not particularly.

That's good. We'll go for a drive.

Good afternoon, Mrs. Van Hopper.
How are you feeling?

You got on rather well with him, didn't you?

That pro must have been
teaching you other things than tennis.

Hurry up.
I want you to make some calls.

I wonder if Mr. de Winter
is still in the hotel.

May I go now?

For the number of lessons you've had,
you ought to be ready for Wimbledon.

But this will be your last,
so make the most of it.

The trouble is, with me laid up like this,
you haven't had enough to do.

But I'm getting rid of that nurse today,
and from now on you'll stick to your job.

Yes, Mrs. Van Hopper.

- Nurse!
- Yes, Mrs. Van Hopper?

Are you absolutely sure you left
those messages for Mr. de Winter?

- Why, yes, madame.
- I simply can't believe it.

He would most certainly
have called me back.

Oh, well. Poor boy.
I simply hate to see him so alone.

You know, I...
I wish there could be an invention

that bottled up the memory like perfume.

And it never faded, never got stale.

Then whenever I wanted to,
I could uncork the bottle

and live the memory all over again.

And what particular moment in your young life
would you want to keep?

Oh, all of them,
all these last few days.

I feel as though I'd... I'd collected
a whole shelf full of bottles.

Sometimes, you know,
those little bottles contain demons

that have a way of popping out at you just
as you're trying most desperately to forget.

Stop biting your nails.

Oh, I wish I were a woman of 36,

dressed in black satin,
with a string of pearls.

You wouldn't be
here with me if you were.

Would you please tell me, Mr. de Winter,
why you asked me to come out with you?

Oh, it's obvious
that you want to be kind,

but why do you choose me
for your charity?

I asked you to come out with me
because I wanted your company.

You've blotted out the past for me more
than all the bright lights of Monte Carlo.

But if you think I just asked you
out of kindness or charity,

you can leave the car now
and find your own way home.

Go on, open the door and get out.

- Better blow your nose.
- Thank you.

Please don't call me Mr. de Winter.

I have a very impressive
array of first names.

George Fortescue Maximilian.
But you needn't bother with them all at once.

My family call me Maxim.

And another thing.

Please promise me
never to wear black satin or pearls

or to be 36 years old.

Yes, Maxim.

For the love of Pete! Come here!

What do you think?
My daughter's engaged to be married.

- Oh, really? How nice.
- We must leave for New York at once.

Get reservations on the Aquitania,
and we'll take the 12:30 train for Cherbourg.

Hurry up and get a maid to help with
the packing. We've no time to waste.

Go on and don't dawdle!

Mr. de Winter, please.

Oh, he's gone out riding?

He won't be back till noon?

Oh, well, give me the porter, please.

I'll go and see if there's
anything left in my room.

Has Mr. de Winter come in yet?

Oh, he has?
Would you connect me, please?

Oh, I was looking for my book.
I suppose I've packed it.

Well, come on.
The car's waiting at the door.

I'd like to leave a forwarding address
if they happen to find that book.

Would you ring Mr. de Winter, please?

Yes, madam. Cent vingt-deux.

- There isn't any answer.
- Thank you.

- Tell her to hurry up!
- Yes, madam.

I was looking for Mr. de Winter.

Mr. de Winter just ordered
breakfast in his room, mademoiselle.

Come in.

Hello. What are you doing here?
Anything the matter?

I've come to say good-bye.
We're going away.

- What on earth are you talking about?
- It's true.

We're going now, and I was afraid
I wouldn't see you again.

- Where is she taking you to?
- New York.

I don't want to go.
I shall hate it. I shall be miserable.

I'll dress in here.

I shan't be long.

Which would you prefer,
New York or Manderley?

Oh, please don't joke about it.
Mrs. Van Hopper's waiting.

And I-I'd better say good-bye now.

I repeat what I said.

Either you go to America
with Mrs. Van Hopper,

or you come home
to Manderley with me.

You mean you want
a secretary or something?

I'm asking you to marry me,
you little fool.

Come in.

Is that my food? I'm famished.
I didn't have any breakfast.

Ah, my suggestion didn't seem
to go at all well. I'm sorry.

Oh, but you don't understand.
It's that I'm not the sort of person men marry.

What on earth do you mean?

I don't belong in your sort of world,
for one thing.

Well, what is my sort of world?

Oh, well, Manderley.
You know what I mean.

Well, I'm the best judge
of whether you belong there or not.

Of course, if you don't love me,
that's a different thing.

Fine blow to my conceit, that's all.

Oh, I do love you.
I love you most dreadfully.

I've been crying all morning because
I thought I'd never see you again.

Bless you for that.

I'll remind you of this one day,
and you won't believe me.

It's a pity you have to grow up.

Well, now that's settled,
you may pour me out some coffee.

Two lumps of sugar
and some milk, please.

Same with my tea.
Don't forget.

Who's going to break the news
to Mrs. Van Hopper?

Oh, you tell her.
She'll be so angry.

What's the number of her room?

Oh, she's not there.
She's downstairs in the car.

Hello. Give me the desk, please.

Hello. You'll find Mrs. Van Hopper
waiting outside in her car.

Would you ask her,
with my compliments,

if she'd very kindly come up
and see me in my room?

Yes, in my room.

Mr. de Winter says please
for you to come up to his room.

Mr. de Winter? Why, certainly.

This isn't at all
your idea of a proposal, is it?

It should be in a conservatory,

you in a white frock
with a red rose in your hand

and a violin playing in the distance,

and I should be making violent
love to you behind a palm tree.

Poor darling. Never mind.

Oh, I don't mind.

Don't worry. Don't worry.
You won't have to say a word.

I'm so glad you called me,
Mr. de Winter.

I was making a hasty departure.
It was so rude of me not to let you know.

But a cable came
this morning announcing

that my daughter
is engaged to be married.

That's rather a coincidence,
Mrs. Van Hopper.

I asked you up here in order
to tell you of my engagement.

You don't mean it!
Oh, how perfectly wonderful!

How romantic.
Who is the lucky lady?

I apologize for depriving you
of your companion in this abrupt way.

I do hope it won't
inconvenience you too greatly.

When did all this happen?

Just now, Mrs. Van Hopper.
Just a few minutes ago.

I simply can't believe it.

I suppose I ought to scold you for not
having breathed a word of all this to me.

What am I thinking of?

I shall give you both
my congratulations and my blessings.

I'm very happy for you both.
When and where is the wedding to be?

Here, as soon as possible.

A whirlwind romance! Splendid!
I could easily postpone my sailing for a week.

This poor child has no mother,

so I shall take responsibility
for all the arrangements ‒

trousseau, reception and everything.

And I'll give the bride away.
But our luggage.

Go down and tell the porter to
take everything out of the car.

Just a minute.
We're most grateful, Mrs. Van Hopper.

But I think we'd both prefer
to have it as quiet as possible.

And I couldn't possibly allow you
to change your sailing plans.

- Oh, but ‒
- No, no, no.

Dear, I'll go down and see
that your luggage is brought back.

Thank you, Maxim.

So this is what's been happening
during my illness.

Tennis lessons, my foot.

I suppose I have to hand it to you
for a fast worker.

How did you manage it?
Still waters certainly run deep.

Tell me, have you been doing
anything you shouldn't?

I don't know what you mean.

Oh, well, never mind. I always did say
that Englishmen have strange tastes.

But you certainly have your work cut out
as mistress of Manderley.

To be perfectly frank with you, my dear,
I can't see you doing it.

You haven't the experience.

You haven't the faintest idea
what it means to be a great lady.

Of course, you know why
he's marrying you, don't you?

You haven't flattered yourself
that he's in love with you.

The fact is, that empty house
got on his nerves to such an extent

he nearly went off his head.

He just couldn't go on living alone.

You'd better leave, Mrs. Van Hopper.
You'll miss your train.

Mrs. de Winter.

Good-bye, my dear, and good luck.

Monsieur! Vous avez oublié
votre carnet de mariage.

He says I've forgotten
the proof that we're married.

Good heavens!

Ah, somebody else had the same idea.

- Isn't she sweet?
- Yes.

You'd have liked a bridal veil,
wouldn't you?

Or at least ‒

Madame, madame,
combien ça fait? Tout, le tout?

Je vous remercie mille fois.

- Merci.
- Merci.

Oh, Maxim, how lovely.

Oh, how perfectly lovely.

Oh, perfectly lovely.

- Welcome home, Mr. de Winter.
- Thank you, Smith.

- Cold, darling?
- Yes, just a little bit.

There's no need
to be frightened, you know.

Just be yourself,
and they'll all adore you.

You don't have to worry
about the house at all.

Mrs. Danvers is the housekeeper.
Just leave it to her.

Hello. Starting to rain.
We'd better hurry up.

Here, have this.
Put it over your head.

Thank you.

Yes.

That's it. That's Manderley.

Here we are, Frith.
Everybody well?

Yes, thank you, sir.
Glad to see you home, sir.

- This is Mrs. de Winter, Frith.
- How do you do?

I didn't expect the whole staff
to be in attendance.

Mrs. Danvers' orders, sir.

Oh. Sorry about this.
Won't take long.

This is Mrs. Danvers.

How do you do?

How do you do?

I have everything
in readiness for you.

That's very good of you.
I didn't expect anything.

I think we'd like some tea, Frith.

Ready in the library, sir.

Come along, darling.

Oh, Maxim! Come in!

Oh, good evening, Mrs. Danvers.

Good evening, madam.

I hope Alice was satisfactory, madam.

- Oh, yes, thank you. Perfectly.
- She's the parlor maid.

She'll have to look after you
until your own maid arrives.

Oh, but I haven't a maid.
I'm sure Alice will do very nicely.

I'm afraid that would not do
for very long, madam.

It's usual for ladies in your position
to have a personal maid.

I hope you approve the new decoration
of these rooms, madam.

Oh, I didn't know
it had been changed.

I hope you haven't been
to too much trouble.

I only followed out
Mr. de Winter's instructions.

Oh. Well, what did it look like before?

It had an old paper
and different hangings.

It was never used much,
except for occasional visitors.

Oh, then it wasn't
Mr. de Winter's room originally?

No, madam. He's never used
the east wing before.

Of course, there's no view
of the sea from here.

The only good view of the sea
is from the west wing.

The room's very charming,
and I'm sure I'll be comfortable.

If there's anything you want done,
madam, you have only to tell me.

I suppose you've been at Manderley
for many years, longer than anyone else.

Not so long as Frith. He was here
when the old gentleman was living,

when Mr. de Winter was a boy.

Oh, I see.
And you didn't come till after that?

I came here when
the first Mrs. de Winter was a bride.

Mrs. Danvers,
I do hope we'll be friends.

You must be patient with me.

This sort of life is new to me,
and I do want to make a success of it

and make Mr. de Winter happy.

So I know I can leave
all the household arrangements to you.

Very well. I hope I shall do everything
to your satisfaction, madam.

I've managed the house
since Mrs. de Winter's death,

and Mr. de Winter
has never complained.

I think I'll go downstairs now.

That room in the west wing I was
telling you about is there through that door.

It's not used now.

It's the most beautiful
room in the house ‒

the only one that looks down
across the lawns to the sea.

It was Mrs. de Winter's room.

- Good morning.
- Good morning.

You're Mrs. de Winter, aren't you?

- Yes.
- My name's Crawley.

I-I manage the estate for Maxim.

Awfully glad to meet you.

There's a fearful lot of stuff
piled up while Maxim was away.

Yes, I'm sure there must have been.

- I do wish I could help with some of it.
- Oh, no.

Frank never allows anybody to help him.

He's like an old mother hen
with his bills and rents and taxes.

- Come on, Frank. We must go over these estimates.
- I'll get my papers.

You'll find quantities
of breakfast over there,

but you must eat it all,
or cook will be mortally offended.

I'll do my best, Maxim.

I have to go over the place with Frank
to make sure he hasn't lost any of it.

- But you'll be all right, won't you?
- Mm-hmm.

Getting acquainted
with your new home?

Have a look at The Times.

There's a thrilling article
on what's the matter with English cricket.

Oh, uh, yes, um ‒

My sister Beatrice and her husband Giles Lacy
have invited themselves over for lunch.

- Today?
- Yes.

I suppose the old girl
can't wait to look you over.

You'll find her very direct.

If she doesn't like you,
she'll probably tell you so to your face.

Don't worry, darling. I'll be back
in time to protect you from her.

- Good-bye, darling.
- Good-bye, Maxim.

- Good-bye.
- Good-bye.

- Good morning, madam.
- Good morning, Frith.

Isn't there anything
I could get for you, madam?

Oh, no, thank you, Frith.
I'm really not very hungry.

Thank you.

- The paper, madam.
- Oh, yes. Thank you, Frith.

- Madam.
- I slipped.

Oh, thank you, Frith.

- It's big, isn't it?
- Yes, madam. Manderley is a big place.

This was the banquet hall
in the old days.

It's still used on great occasions,
such as a big dinner or a ball.

And the public is admitted here,
you know, once a week.

That's nice.

I beg pardon, madam.

I'm afraid the fire is not usually
lit in the library until the afternoon.

But you'll find one
in the morning room.

Of course, if you wish
this fire lit now, madam ‒

Oh, no, Frith.
I wouldn't dream of it.

Uh, Mrs. de Winter ‒

I mean, the late Mrs. de Winter always
did her correspondence and telephoning

in the morning room after breakfast.

Thank you, Frith.

Is anything wrong, madam?

Oh, no.
Uh, which way is the morning room?

- Oh, it's that door there on the left.
- Oh, yes, thank you.

Mrs. de Winter?
Oh, I'm afraid you've made a mistake.

Mrs. de Winter's
been dead for over a year.

Oh, I mean, I ‒

Oh.

That was the house telephone, madam.

Probably the head gardener
wishing instructions.

Did you want to see me, Mrs. Danvers?

Mr. de Winter informed me that
his sister Mrs. Lacy and Major Lacy

are expected for luncheon.

I'd like to know
if you approve of the menu.

Oh, well, I-I'm sure
it's very suitable, very nice indeed.

You'll notice, madam, that
I've left a blank space for the sauce.

Mrs. de Winter was most
particular about sauces.

Let's have whatever you think
that Mrs. de Winter would have ordered.

Thank you, madam.

When you've finished your letters,
Robert will take them to the post.

My let ‒ My letters?

Oh, yes, of course.
Thank you, Mrs. Danvers.

- How are you, Frith?
- Good morning, Mrs. Lacy.

Where's Mr. de Winter?

I believe he went down to the farm
with Mr. Crawley.

How tiresome of him not to be here
when we arrive, and how typical.

I must say, old Danvers
keeps the house looking lovely.

She certainly learned that trick
of arranging flowers from Rebecca.

I wonder how she likes it now,

being ordered about
by an ex-chorus girl.

Where on earth did you
get the idea she's an ex-chorus girl?

He picked her up
in the South of France, didn't he?

- What if he did?
- Well, I mean to say, there you are.

How do you do? I-I'm Maxim's wife.

How do you do?

Well, I must say you're quite different
from what I expected.

Don't be so silly.
She's exactly what I told you she'd be.

- Well, how do you like Manderley?
- Very beautiful, isn't it?

And how do you get along
with Mrs. Danvers?

Well, I ‒ I've never met anyone
quite like her before.

You mean she scares you?
She's not exactly an oil painting, is she?

Giles, you're very much in the way here.
Go somewhere else.

I'll try and find Maxim, shall I?

Giles.

I-I didn't mean to say anything
against Mrs. Danvers.

Oh, there's no need for you
to be frightened of her.

But I shouldn't have any more
to do with her than you can help.

- Shall we sit down?
- Oh, yes, yes, please.

You see, she's bound to be
insanely jealous at first,

and she must resent you bitterly.

But why should she?

Don't you know?

I should have thought
Maxim would have told you.

She simply adored Rebecca.

- How are you, Robert?
- Quite well, thank you, madam.

- Still having trouble with your teeth?
- Unfortunately, yes, madam.

You should have them out, all of them.
Wretched nuisances, teeth.

- Thank you, madam.
- Ooh, what a plateful.

- Do you hunt?
- No, I don't. I'm afraid I don't even ride.

Oh, have to ride down here.
We all do.

Which do you ride,
sidesaddle or astride?

Oh, yes, of course, I forgot.
You don't, do you?

Ha! You must.
Nothing else to do down here.

Maxim, when are you going to have
parties here again like the old days?

- I haven't thought about it.
- But everyone's dying to see you and ‒

Yes, I bet they are.

Why don't you have the masquerade ball
again this summer?

- Well ‒
- My dear, are you fond of dancing?

Oh, I love it,
but I'm not very good at it.

- Do you rumba?
- I've never tried.

You must teach me.

I say, old boy, I'm trying to find out
exactly what your wife does do.

Well, she sketches a little.

Sketches.
Not this modern stuff, I hope.

Portrait of a lampshade upside-down
to represent a soul in torment.

- Don't sail, do you?
- No, I don't.

Well, thank goodness for that.

Huh?

You're very much in love with Maxim,
aren't you?

Yes, I can see you are.

Don't mind my saying so, but why don't you
do something about your hair?

Why don't you have it cut
or sweep it back behind your ears?

Oh, no, that's worse.

What does Maxim say about it?
Does he like it like that?

- Well, he never mentions it.
- Oh, well, don't go by me.

I can see by the way you dress,
you don't care a hoot how you look.

But I wonder Maxim
hasn't been at you.

He's so particular about clothes.

I don't think he ever notices
what I wear.

Oh, well, he must have changed a lot then.

You mustn't worry
about old Maxim and his moods.

One never knows what goes on
in that quiet mind of his.

Often he gets into a terrible rage,
and when he does...

But I don't suppose
he'll lose his temper with you.

You seem such a placid little thing.

Come along, old girl.
We've got to be on the first tee at 3:00.

All right, I'm coming.

Well, good-bye, Maxim, old boy.

Good-bye, Giles.
Thanks for coming, old boy.

Good-bye, my dear. Forgive me
for asking you so many rude questions.

We both really hope
you'll be very happy.

Oh, thank you, Beatrice.
Thank you very much.

And I must congratulate you
upon the way Maxim looks.

We were very worried about him
this time last year.

But then, of course,
you know the whole story.

- Good-bye, Beatrice, darling.
- Good-bye, old boy.

- Good-bye.
- Good-bye.

Well, thank heavens they've gone.
Now we can have a walk about the place.

Looks as though we might have a shower.
But you won't mind that, will you?

No, but I'll go get a coat.

There's a heap of mackintoshes
in the flower room.

Robert, get a coat from the flower room
for Mrs. de Winter, will you?

- What did you think of Beatrice?
- Oh, I liked her very much.

But she kept saying that I was quite
different from what she expected.

What the devil did she expect?

Someone smarter
and more sophisticated, I'm afraid.

Huh.

Do you like my hair?

Your hair? Yes, of course I do.
What's the matter with it?

Oh, I don't know. I just wondered.

How funny you are.

Thank you.

Oh, do I have to put it on?

Yes, certainly, certainly, certainly.
Can't be too careful with children.

Come on, Jasper.
Come take some of that fat off.

Jasper! Here, not that way!
Come here!

Where does that lead to?

It leads to a little cove
where we used to keep a boat.

Oh, let's go down there.

No, it's a perfectly dull, uninteresting
stretch of sand, just like any other.

- Oh, please.
- Well, all right.

We'll walk down and take a look,
if you really want to.

That's Jasper.
There must be something wrong.

- Perhaps he's hurt himself.
- No, he's all right. Leave him alone.

- Don't you think I'd better go and see?
- Don't bother about him.

He can't come to any harm.
He'll find his own way back.

Jasper! Jasper!

Oh, there you are.

What do you want in there, Jasper?
Come on. Come on home.

Let's go home, Jasper. Jas ‒

Oh.

I didn't know that there was anybody...

I know that dog.
He comes fr' the house.

He ain't your'n.

No, he's Mr. de Winter's dog.

Have you anything I could tie him with?

Come on, Jasper.

You won't tell anyone
you saw me in there, will ya?

Don't you belong on the estate?

I weren't doin' nothin'.
I was just puttin' my shells away.

She's gone in the sea, ain't she?

She'll never come back no more.

No, she'll never come back.

Come on, Jasper.

Maxim! What's the matter?

Maxim!

I'm sorry I was such a time,
but I had to find a rope for Jasper.

- Hurry up, Jasper, for heaven's sake.
- Please wait for me.

Maxim, what is it?
You look so angry.

You knew I didn't want you to go there,
but you deliberately went.

Why not? There was only a cottage
down there and a strange man ‒

You didn't go into the cottage, did you?

- Yes. The door ‒
- Don't go there again! Do you hear?

- Well, why not?
- Because I hate the place.

If you had my memories,
you wouldn't go there or even think about it!

What's the matter?
Oh, I'm sorry. Please.

We should have stayed away.
We should never have come back to Manderley.

Oh, what a fool I was.

I've made you unhappy.
Somehow I've hurt you.

Oh, I can't bear to see you like this

because I love you so much.

Do you?

Do you?

I've made you cry. Forgive me.

I sometimes seem to
fly off the handle for no reason at all.

Don't I?

Come, we'll go home and have some tea
and forget all about it.

Yes, let's forget all about it.

Here, let me have Jasper.

- Hello. Come in.
- Oh, please don't get up, Mr. Crawley.

I was just wondering if you meant
what you said the other day

about showing me the run of things?

- Of course I did.
- What are you doing now?

Notifying all the tenants that,
in celebration of Maxim's return with his bride,

this week's rent will be free.

- Was that Maxim's idea?
- Oh, yes.

All the servants
get an extra week's wages too.

Oh, he didn't tell me.

Can't I help you?
I could at least lick the stamps.

That's terribly nice of you.
Won't you sit down?

Oh, yes, thank you.

I... I was down at the cottage
on the beach the other day.

There was a man there ‒
a queer sort of person.

- Jasper kept barking at him.
- Oh, yes. Must've been Ben.

Excuse me. He's quite harmless.
We give him odd jobs now and then.

That cottage place seemed
to be going to rack and ruin.

Why isn't something done about it?

Well, I think if Maxim wanted anything
done about it, he'd tell me.

Are those all Rebecca's things
down there?

Yes. Yes, they are.

What did she use the cottage for?

The boat used to be moored near there.

What boat? What happened to it?

Was that the boat she was sailing in
when she was drowned?

Yes. It capsized and sank.
She was washed overboard.

Wasn't she afraid
to go out like that alone?

She wasn't afraid of anything.

Where did they find her?

Near Edgecombe,
about 40 miles up channel,

about two months afterwards.

Maxim went up to identify her.
It was horrible for him.

Yes, it must have been.

Mr. Crawley, please don't think me
morbidly curious. It isn't that.

It's just that I feel
at such a disadvantage.

All the time, whenever I meet anyone,

Maxim's sister or even the servants,

I know they're all
thinking the same thing.

They're all comparing me
with her, with Rebecca.

Oh, you mustn't think that.

I can't tell you how glad I am
that you've married Maxim.

It's going to make
all the difference to his life.

And from my point of view,
it's very refreshing

to find someone like yourself
who's not entirely in tune,

shall we say, with Manderley.

That's very sweet of you.
I daresay I've been stupid.

But every day I realize
the things that she had and that I lack:

beauty and wit and intelligence

and, oh, all the things
that are so important in a woman.

But you have qualities
that are just as important ‒

more important, if I may say so.

Kindliness and sincerity

and, if you'll forgive me, modesty

mean more to a husband
than all the wit and beauty in the world.

We none of us want to live in the past,
Maxim least of all.

It's up to you, you know,
to lead us away from it.

Well, I promise you
I won't bring this up again.

But before we end this conversation

would you answer
just one more question?

If it's something I'm able to answer,
I'll do my best.

Tell me, what was Rebecca really like?

I suppose...

I suppose she was the most
beautiful creature I ever saw.

- Good evening, Maxim.
- Hello.

The films of the honeymoon
have arrived at last.

Have we time, do you think,
before dinner?

What on earth
have you done to yourself?

Oh, nothing. I just ordered a new dress
from London. I hope you don't mind.

Oh, no. Only do you think that
sort of thing is right for you?

- It doesn't seem your type at all.
- I thought you'd like it.

And what have you done to your hair?

Oh, I see.

Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear.
I'm sorry.

You look lovely, lovely.

That's very nice for a change.

Shall we see these pictures?

Yes, I'd love to see them.

Ah, look, now. Look at that.

Wasn't it wonderful, darling?
Can't we go back there someday?

Yes, of course, of course.
Ah, look at you. There.

Won't our grandchildren be delighted
when they see how lovely you were?

Oh, look at you! Yes!

Oh, I like that.

Look at that.

Oh, yes, very nice.

- Oh, remember that?
- Yes.

Oh, I wish our honeymoon could
have lasted forever, Maxim.

Oh, dash it! Look. Oh.

Oh.... Oh, hang it.

Threaded it up wrong,
as usual, or something.

- Yes, Frith, what is it?
- Excuse me, sir.

May I have a word with you?

Yes. Come in.

It's about Robert, sir.

There's been a slight unpleasantness
between him and Mrs. Danvers.

- Oh, dear.
- Robert is very upset.

This is trouble. What is it?

It appears that Mrs. Danvers
has accused Robert

of stealing a valuable ornament
from the morning room.

Robert denies the accusation
most emphatically, sir.

- What was the thing, anyway?
- The china cupid, sir.

Oh, dear.
That's one of our treasures, isn't it?

Well, tell Mrs. Danvers to get
to the bottom of it somehow.

- And tell her I'm sure it wasn't Robert.
- Very good, sir.

Why do they come to me with these things?
That's your job, sweetheart.

Maxim, I wanted to tell you,
but, um, well, I forgot.

- The fact is, I broke the china cupid.
- You broke it?

Now, why on earth didn't you say
something about it when Frith was here?

I don't know. I didn't like to.
I was afraid he'd think me a fool.

Well, he'll think you much more a fool now.
You'll have to explain to him and Mrs. Danvers.

- Oh, no, you do it. I'll go upstairs.
- Don't be such a little idiot.

Anybody would think
you were afraid of them.

It was all a mistake, Mrs. Danvers.

Apparently, Mrs. de Winter broke the cupid
herself and forgot to say anything about it.

I'm so sorry. I ‒ I never thought
that I'd get Robert into trouble.

Is it possible to repair
the ornament, madam?

No, I'm afraid it isn't.
It was smashed into pieces.

What did you do with the pieces?

Well, I-I put them at the back of one
of the drawers in the writing desk.

Well, it looks as though Mrs. de Winter
were afraid you were going to put her in prison,

doesn't it, Mrs. Danvers?

Well, never mind.

Do what you can to find the pieces,
see if they can be mended,

and above all tell Robert to dry his tears.

I shall apologize
to Robert, of course.

Perhaps if such a thing happens again,
Mrs. de Winter will tell me personally ‒

Yes, yes, all right.
Thank you, Mrs. Danvers.

Well, I suppose that clip
will hold all right. I don't know.

I'm awfully sorry, darling.
It was very careless of me.

Mrs. Danvers
must be furious with me.

Oh, hang Mrs. Danvers. Why on earth
should you be frightened of her?

You behave more like an upstairs maid,
not like the mistress of the house at all.

Yes, I know I do.
But I feel so uncomfortable.

I... I try my best every day,
but it's very difficult

with people looking me up and down
as if I were a prize cow.

What does it matter if they do?

You must remember that life at Manderley is
the only thing that interests anybody down here.

What a slap in the eye
I must have been to them, then.

I suppose that's why you married me.

Because you knew I was dull
and gauche and inexperienced

and there could never be
any gossip about me.

Gossip? What do you mean?

I-I don't know.
I just said it for something to say.

Don't look at me like that.

Maxim, what's the matter?
What have I said?

It wasn't a very attractive
thing to say, was it?

No. It was rude, hateful.

I wonder if I did a very selfish thing
in marrying you.

How do you mean?

I'm not much of a companion
to you, am I?

You don't get much fun, do you?

You ought to have married a boy,
someone of your own age.

Maxim, why do you say this?
Of course we're companions.

Are we? I don't know.

I'm very difficult to live with.

No, you're not difficult.
You're easy, very easy.

Our marriage is a success, isn't it?
A great success?

We're happy, aren't we?
Terribly happy.

If you don't think we are happy,

it would be much better
if you didn't pretend.

I'll go away.

Why don't you answer me?

How can I answer you
when I don't know the answer myself?

If you say we're happy,
let's leave it at that.

Happiness is something
I know nothing about.

Oh, look, there's the one

when I left the camera running
on the tripod, remember?

Pardon me, madam.
Is there anything I can do for you?

I'm all right, Hilda.
Thank you very much.

I'll bring the sandwiches
immediately, madam.

- Hilda.
- Yes, madam?

The west wing ‒
Nobody ever uses it anymore, do they?

No, madam.
Not since the death of Mrs. de Winter.

Come along, Mr. Jack,
or someone may see you.

Well, Danny, old harpy,
it's been good to see you again.

Been simply breathless to pick up all the news.

I don't think it's
wise for you to come here, Mr. Jack.

- Jasper, come here.
- Nonsense. It's just like coming back home.

Quiet, Mr. Jack.

Yes, and we must be careful
not to shock Cinderella, mustn't we?

She's in the morning room.

If you leave through the garden door,
she won't see you.

I must say
I feel a little like the poor relation,

sneaking around through back doors.

- Well, toodle-oo, Danny.
- Good-bye, Mr. Jack, and please be careful.

Jasper, quiet.

Looking for me?
Oh, I didn't make you jump, did I?

No, of course not.
I didn't quite know who it was.

Yes.

You're pleased to see me,
aren't you, old boy?

I'm glad there's someone in the family
to welcome me back to Manderley.

And, um, how is dear old Max?

Very well, thank you.

I hear he went up to London,
left his little bride all alone.

That's too bad.

Isn't he rather afraid that somebody
might come down and carry you off?

Danny, all your precautions
were in vain.

The mistress of the house
was hiding behind the door.

Oh, what about presenting me
to the bride?

- This is Mr. Favell, madam.
- How do you do?

How do you do?

Won't you have some tea or something?

Now, isn't that a charming invitation?

I've been asked to stay to tea, Danny,
and I've a good mind to accept.

Oh, well, perhaps you're right.
Pity, just when we were getting on so nicely.

We mustn't lead the young bride astray,
must we, Jasper?

Good-bye.
It's been fun meeting you.

Oh, and by the way,
it would be very decent of you

if you didn't mention this little visit
to your revered husband.

He doesn't exactly approve of me.

- Very well.
- That's very sporting of you.

I wish I had a young bride of three months
waiting for me at home.

I'm just a lonely old bachelor.

Fare thee well.

Oh, and I know what was wrong
with that introduction.

Danny didn't tell you, did she?

I am Rebecca's favorite cousin.

Toodle-oo.

Do you wish anything, madam?

I didn't expect to see you,
Mrs. Danvers.

I noticed a window wasn't closed,
and I came up to see if I could fasten it.

Why did you say that?
I closed it before I left the room.

You opened it yourself, didn't you?

You've always wanted to see this room,
haven't you, madam?

Why did you never ask me
to show it to you?

I was ready to show it to you every day.

It's a lovely room, isn't it?

The loveliest room you've ever seen.

Everything is kept
just as Mrs. de Winter liked it.

Nothing has been altered
since that last night.

Come. I'll show you
her dressing room.

This is where I keep all her clothes.

You would like to see them,
wouldn't you?

Feel this.

It was a Christmas present
from Mr. de Winter.

He was always giving her expensive gifts,
the whole year round.

I keep her underwear on this side.

They were made specially for her
by the nuns in the Convent of St. Claire.

I always used to wait up for her,
no matter how late.

Sometimes she and Mr. de Winter
didn't come home until dawn.

While she was undressing,
she'd tell me about the party she'd been to.

She knew everyone that mattered,

and everyone loved her.

When she'd finished her bath,

she'd go into the bedroom
and go over to the dressing table.

Oh, you've moved her brush,
haven't you?

There, that's better ‒
just as she always laid it down.

"Come on, Danny, hair drill,"
she would say.

I'd stand behind her like this
and brush away for 20 minutes at a time.

And then she would say,

"Good night, Danny,"
and step into her bed.

I embroidered this case
for her myself,

and I keep it here always.

Did you ever see anything so delicate?

Look.
You can see my hand through it.

You wouldn't think she'd
been gone so long, would you?

Sometimes when I walk
along the corridor,

I fancy I hear her just behind me.

That quick, light step.
I couldn't mistake it anywhere.

It's not only in this room.
It's in all the rooms in the house.

I can almost hear it now.

Do you think the dead
come back and watch the living?

No, I don't believe it.

Sometimes I wonder if she doesn't
come back here to Manderley

and watch you
and Mr. de Winter together.

You look tired. Why don't you
stay here a while and rest

and listen to the sea?

It's so soothing.

Listen to it.

Listen.

Listen to the sea.

Tell Mrs. Danvers
I wish to see her immediately.

You sent for me, madam?

Yes, Mrs. Danvers.

I want you to get rid
of all these things.

These are Mrs. de Winter's things.

I am Mrs. de Winter now.

Very well.
I'll give the instructions.

Just a moment, please.

Mrs. Danvers, I intend to say nothing to
Mr. de Winter about Mr. Favell's visit.

In fact, I'd prefer to forget everything
that happened this afternoon.

Oh, Maxim, Maxim,
you've been gone all day!

You're choking me.
Well. Well, well, well.

- What have you been doing with yourself?
- Oh, I've been thinking.

- What do you want to do that for?
- Come in here and I'll tell you.

Darling, could we have a costume ball
just as you used to?

Now, what put that into your mind?

Has Beatrice been at you?

No, no, but I feel that
we ought to do something

to make people feel that Manderley
is just the same as it always was.

Oh, please, darling, could we?

You don't know
what it would mean, you know.

You would have to be hostess
to hundreds of people, all the county.

And a lot of young people would come up from
London and turn the house into a nightclub.

Oh, yes, but I want to. Oh, please.

I've never been to a large party,
but I could learn what to do.

And I promise you,
you wouldn't be ashamed of me.

All right, if you think you'd enjoy it.

You'd better get Mrs. Danvers
to help you, hadn't you?

No, no. I don't need
Mrs. Danvers to help me.

- I can do it myself.
- All right, my sweet.

Oh, thank you, darling.
Thank you.

- Oh, what'll you go as?
- Oh, I never dress up.

That's the one privilege
I claim as the host.

What will you be? Alice in Wonderland
with that ribbon around your hair?

I won't tell. I'll design my costume all by myself
and give you the surprise of your life.

Come in.

Robert found these sketches
in the library, madam.

- Did you intend throwing them away?
- Yes, Mrs. Danvers, I did.

They were just some ideas I was
sketching for my costume for the ball.

Hasn't Mr. de Winter
suggested anything?

No, I want to surprise him.
I don't want him to know anything about it.

I merely thought
that you might find a costume

among the family portraits
that would suit you.

Oh, you mean those at the top of the stairs?
I'll go and look at them.

This one, for instance.
It might have been designed for you.

I'm sure you could have it copied.

I've heard Mr. de Winter say that
this is his favorite of all the paintings.

It's Lady Caroline de Winter,
one of his ancestors.

Oh, well, well, that's a splendid idea,
Mrs. Danvers. I'm-I'm very grateful.

- Everything under control, Frith?
- Yes, sir. Thank you.

Excuse me, sir.
Are you supposed to be a schoolmaster?

Oh, no, this is just
my old cap and gown.

Certainly makes a very nice costume, sir,
and economical too.

Uh, yes. That was the idea.

Evening, Robert.
Not very good weather for the ball.

- No, sir.
- Very misty on the way and very chilly.

Oh, this wig's so tight, they ought
to have sent an aspirin with it.

Hello. What's the idea?
Adam and Eve?

- Oh, Maxim, don't be disgusting.
- Strong man, old man.

- Where's my weight thing?
- What thing?

- You haven't left it in the car?
- Oh, no, there it is.

Are you the first one down?
Where's the child?

She's keeping her costume a terrific secret.
Wouldn't let me into her room.

Oh, lovely.

I'll go up and give her a hand.

- I could do with a drink.
- Won't you catch cold in that thing?

Don't be silly. Pure wool, old boy.

Pardon me, sir. You forgot this.

Oh, thank you.

Here I am, dear. It's Bea.
I've come to give you a hand.

Oh, please don't come in, Beatrice.
I don't want anyone to see my costume.

Oh. Oh, well,
you won't be long, will you?

Because the first people
will be arriving any moment.

- Now, you're sure that's where that should be?
- Yes, madam, it's just right.

- Oh, isn't this exciting?
- Indeed it is, madam.

I've always heard of the Manderley Ball.
Now I'm really going to see one.

I'm sure there'll be no one there
to touch you, madam.

Do you really think so?
Now, where's my fan?

Now, you're sure
I look all right?

You look ever so beautiful.

Well, here goes.

Good evening, Mr. de Winter.

What the devil do you think you're doing?

Rebecca! Oh.

But i-it's the picture,
the one in the gallery.

What is it? What have I done?

Go and take it off. It doesn't matter
what you put on. Anything will do.

What are you standing there for?
Didn't you hear what I said?

Sir George and Lady Moore.

Dudley Tennant.
Admiral and Lady Burbank.

I watched you go down
just as I watched her a year ago.

Even in the same dress,
you couldn't compare.

You knew it! You knew that she wore it,
and yet you deliberately suggested I wear it.

Why do you hate me? What have I done
to you that you should ever hate me so?

You tried to take her place.
You let him marry you.

I've seen his face, his eyes. They're the same
as those first weeks after she died.

I used to listen to him
walking up and down, up and down,

all night long, night after night,

thinking of her, suffering torture
because he'd lost her.

I don't want to know.
I don't want to know.

You thought you could be
Mrs. de Winter,

live in her house, walk in her steps,
take the things that were hers.

But she's too strong for you.
You can't fight her.

No one ever got the better of her,
never, never.

She was beaten in the end,
but it wasn't a man, it wasn't a woman.

It was the sea!

Oh, stop it, stop it. Oh, stop it.

You're overwrought, madam.
I've opened a window for you.

A little air will do you good.

Why don't you go?
Why don't you leave Manderley?

He doesn't need you.

He's got his memories.

He doesn't love you.
He wants to be alone again with her.

You've nothing to stay for.

You've nothing to live for,
really, have you?

Look down there.
It's easy, isn't it?

Why don't you?

Why don't you?

Go on.

Go on.

Don't be afraid.

Shipwreck! Ship on the rocks!

It's a ship aground,
sending up rockets.

Shipwreck! Come on, everybody, down
to the bay! Notify the Coast Guard!

Oh, Maxim! Maxim!

- Ship ashore!
- Come on, come on! Everybody!

Maxim! Maxim!

Oh!

Ben, have you seen
Mr. de Winter anywhere?

She won't come back, will she?
You said so.

Who, Ben? What do you mean?

Uh, the other one.

Oh, Frank, have you seen Maxim anywhere?

Not since about half an hour ago.
I thought he'd gone up to the house.

No, he hasn't been to the house at all,

and I'm afraid something
might have happened to him.

Frank, what's the matter?
Is anything wrong?

There is something wrong.

Well, the diver who went down
to inspect the bottom of the ship

came across the hull of another boat ‒

a little sailboat.

- Frank, is it ‒
- Yes, it's Rebecca's.

How did they recognize it?

He's a local man.
Knew it instantly.

It'll be so hard on poor Maxim.

Yes, it's going to bring it
all back again,

and worse than before.

Why did they have to find it?

Why couldn't they have left it there
in peace, at the bottom of the sea?

Well, I'd better get along
and arrange some breakfast for the men.

All right, Frank.
I'll go and look for Maxim.

- Hello.
- Maxim.

You haven't had any sleep.

Have you forgiven me?

Forgiven you?
What have I got to forgive you for?

For last night,
my stupidity about the costume.

Oh, that. I'd forgotten.

I was angry with you, wasn't I?

Mmm.

Maxim, can't we start all over again?

I don't ask that you should love me.
I won't ask impossible things.

I'll be your friend, your companion.

I'll be happy with that.

You love me very much, don't you?

But it's too late, my darling.

We've lost our little
chance of happiness.

- No, Maxim, no.
- Yes. It's all over now.

The thing's happened.

The thing I've dreaded day after day,

night after night.

Maxim, what are you trying to tell me?

Rebecca has won.

Her shadow has been
between us all the time,

keeping us from one another.

She knew that this would happen.

What are you saying?

They sent a diver down.
He found another boat.

Yes, I know. Frank told me.
Rebecca's boat.

Oh, it's terrible for you.
I'm so sorry.

The diver made another discovery.

He broke one of the ports
and looked into the cabin.

There was a body in there.

Then she wasn't alone.

There was someone sailing with her,
and you have to find out who it was.

- That's it, isn't it, Maxim?
- You don't understand.

There was no one with her.

It's Rebecca's body
lying there on the cabin floor.

Oh, no.

The woman that was washed up
at Edgecombe,

the woman that is now buried
in the family crypt,

that was not Rebecca.

That was the body
of some unknown woman,

unclaimed, belonging nowhere.

I identified it,
but I knew it wasn't Rebecca.

It was all a lie.

I knew where Rebecca's body was.

Lying on that cabin floor
on the bottom of the sea.

How did you know, Maxim?

Because I put it there.

Will you look into my eyes
and tell me that you love me now?

You see? I was right.

It's too late.

No, it's not too late.
You're not to say that.

I love you more
than anything in the world.

Oh, please, Maxim, kiss me, please.

No. It's no use. It's too late.

We can't lose each other now.

We must be together always,
with no secrets, no shadows.

We may only have
a few days, a few hours.

Maxim, why didn't you tell me before?

I nearly did sometimes,
but you never seemed close enough.

How could we be close when I knew
you were always thinking of Rebecca?

How could I even ask you to love me
when I knew you loved Rebecca still?

What are you talking about?
What do you mean?

Whenever you touched me, I knew
you were comparing me with Rebecca.

Whenever you looked at me or spoke to me
or walked with me in the garden,

I knew you were thinking,

"This I did with Rebecca, and this and this."

Oh, it's true, isn't it?

You thought I loved Rebecca?
You thought that?

I hated her.

Oh, I was carried away by her,

enchanted by her, as everyone was.

And when I was married, I was told
I was the luckiest man in the world.

She was so lovely,

so accomplished, so amusing.

"She's got the three things that really
matter in a wife," everyone said.

"Breeding, brains and beauty."

And I believed them, completely.

But I never had
a moment's happiness with her.

She was incapable of love

or tenderness or decency.

You didn't love her?
You didn't love her?

Do you remember that cliff
where you first saw me in Monte Carlo?

Well, I went there with Rebecca
on our honeymoon.

That was where I found out about her.

Four days after we were married.

She stood there laughing,

her black hair blowing in the wind,

and told me all about herself.

Everything.

Things I'll never tell a living soul.

I wanted to kill her.

It would have been so easy.
Remember the precipice?

I frightened you, didn't I?
You thought I was mad.

Perhaps I was.
Perhaps I am mad.

It wouldn't make for sanity, would it,
living with the devil?

"I'll make a bargain with you," she said.

"You'd look rather foolish trying to
divorce me now, after four days of marriage,

so I'll play the part of a devoted wife,
mistress of your precious Manderley.

I'll make it the most famous showplace
in England, if you like,

and people will visit us and envy us

and say we're the luckiest,
happiest couple in the country.

What a grand joke it will be!
What a triumph!"

I should never have accepted
her dirty bargain, but I did.

I was younger then and tremendously
conscious of the family honor.

Family honor.

She knew that I'd sacrifice everything
rather than stand up in a divorce court

and give her away, admit that
our marriage was a rotten fraud.

You despise me, don't you?
As I despise myself.

You can't understand what
my feelings were, can you?

Of course I can, darling.
Of course I can.

Well, I kept the bargain.
And so did she, apparently.

Oh, she played the game brilliantly.

But after a while,
she began to grow careless.

She took a flat in London,
and she'd stay away for days at a time.

Then she started to bring
her friends down here.

I warned her,
but she shrugged her shoulders.

"What's it got to do with you?"
she said.

She even started on Frank.
Poor, faithful Frank.

Then there was a cousin of hers,
a man named Favell.

Yes, I know him.
He came the day you went to London.

Why didn't you tell me?

I didn't like to. I thought
it would remind you of Rebecca.

Remind me?

As if I needed reminding.

Favell used to visit her
here in this cottage.

I found out about it, and I warned her that
if he came here again, I'd shoot them both.

One night when I found that
she'd come back quietly from London,

I thought that Favell was with her,

and I knew then I couldn't stand this
life of filth and deceit any longer.

I decided to come down here
and have it out with both of them.

But she was alone.

She was expecting Favell,
but he hadn't come.

She was lying on the divan,

a large tray of cigarette stubs beside her.

She looked ill, queer.

Suddenly she got up,

started to walk toward me.

"When I have a child," she said,

"neither you nor anyone else
could ever prove it wasn't yours.

You'd like to have an heir, wouldn't you,
Max, for your precious Manderley?"

Then she started to laugh.

"How funny.
How supremely, wonderfully funny.

"I'd be the perfect mother,
just as I've been the perfect wife.

"No one will ever know.

"It ought to give you
the thrill of your life, Max,

"to watch my son grow bigger
day by day

and to know that when you die,
Manderley will be his."

She was face to face with me,

one hand in her pocket,

the other holding a cigarette.

She was smiling.

"Well, Max,
what are you going to do about it?

Aren't you going to kill me?"

I suppose I went mad for a moment.

I must have struck her.

She stood staring at me.

She looked almost triumphant.

Then she started
toward me again, smiling.

Suddenly she stumbled and fell.

When I looked down ‒ ages afterwards,
it seemed ‒ she was lying on the floor.

She'd struck her head
on a heavy piece of ship's tackle.

I remember wondering
why she was still smiling.

Then I realized she was dead.

But you didn't kill her.
It was an accident.

Who would believe me?
I lost my head.

I just knew I had to do something, anything.

I carried her out to the boat.

It was very dark.
There was no moon.

I put her in the cabin.

When the boat seemed a safe distance
from the shore, I took a spike

and drove it again and again
through the planking of the hull.

I had opened up the seacocks,
and the water began to come in fast.

I climbed over into the dinghy
and pulled away.

I saw the boat heel over and sink.

I pulled back into the cove.

It started raining.

Maxim, does anyone else know this?

No, no one, except you and me.

We must explain it.

It's got to be the body
of someone you've never seen before.

No, they're bound to know her.

Her rings, bracelets she always wore.

They'll identify her body.

Then they'll remember the other woman,

the other woman buried in the crypt.

If they find out it was Rebecca,

you must simply say that you made
a mistake about the other body ‒

that the day you went to Edgecombe
you were ill, you didn't know what you were doing.

Rebecca's dead.
That's what we've got to remember.

Rebecca's dead. She can't speak.
She can't bear witness.

She can't harm you anymore.

We're the only two people in the world
that know, Maxim ‒ you and I.

I told you once that I'd done
a very selfish thing in marrying you.

You can understand now what I meant.

I've loved you, my darling.

I shall always love you.

But I've known all along
that Rebecca would win in the end.

No, no, she hasn't won.

No matter what happens now,
she hasn't won.

Hello? Hel ‒

Hello, Frank. Hello, Frank. Yes.

Who? Colonel Julyan?

Yes, tell him I'll meet him there
as soon as I possibly can.

What? Oh.

Well, say we could talk about that
when we're sure about the matter.

Yes.

What's happened?

Colonel Julyan called.
He's the chief constable of the county.

He's been asked by the police
to go to the mortuary.

He wants to know if I could
possibly have made a mistake

about that other body.

Well, Colonel Julyan, apparently I did
make a mistake about that other body.

The mistake was quite natural
under the circumstances.

- Besides, you weren't well at the time.
- That's nonsense. I was perfectly well.

Well, don't let it worry you, Maxim.

Nobody can blame you
for making a mistake.

The pity is, you've got to go through
the same thing all over again.

- What do you mean?
- There'll have to be another inquest, of course.

- Same formality and red tape.
- Oh.

I wish you could be spared the publicity of it,
but I'm afraid that's impossible.

Oh, yes, the publicity.

I suppose Mrs. de Winter
went below for something

and a squall hit the boat
with nobody at the helm.

I imagine that's about the solution of it,
don't you think so, Crawley?

Oh, yes. Probably the door jammed
and she couldn't get on deck again.

Yes. Tabb, the boatbuilder,

will undoubtedly come
to some such conclusion.

Why? What would he know about it?

Well, he's examining the boat now.

Purely as a matter of routine, you know.

I'll be at the inquest tomorrow, Maxim ‒
quite unofficially, you know.

We must get together for a game of golf
when it's all over, eh?

- Yes.
- Bye-bye.

I have the evening papers, madam.

- Would you care to see them?
- Oh, no, thank you, Frith.

And I'd prefer that Mr. de Winter
weren't troubled with them either.

I understand, madam. Permit me to say
that we're all most distressed outside.

Oh, thank you, Frith.

I'm afraid the news has been
a great shock to Mrs. Danvers.

Yes, I rather expected it would be.

It seems there's to be
a coroner's inquest, madam?

Yes, Frith. It's purely a formality.

Of course, madam. I...

I wanted to say that if any of us
might be required to give evidence,

I should be only too pleased to do
anything that might help the family.

Oh, thank you, Frith. I'm sure Mr. de Winter
will be very happy to hear it.

But I don't think
anything will be necessary.

Maxim.

Hello, darling.

Oh, Maxim, I'm... I'm worried about
what you'll do at the inquest tomorrow.

What do you mean?

You won't lose your temper, will you?

Promise me that they
won't make you angry.

All right, darling, I promise.

No matter what he asks you,
you won't lose your head.

Don't worry, dear.

They can't do anything at once, can they?

No.

- Then we've a little time left to be together?
- Yes.

I want to go to the inquest with you.

I'd rather you didn't, darling.

But I can't wait here alone.

I promise you I won't be
any trouble to you.

And I must be near you
so that no matter what happens,

we won't be separated for a moment.

All right, dear.

I don't mind this whole thing,
except for you.

I can't forget what it's done to you.

I've been thinking of nothing else
since it happened.

No, no.

It's gone forever.

That funny, young, lost look I loved...

won't ever come back.

I killed that when I told you
about Rebecca.

It's gone.

In a few hours...

you've grown so much older.

Oh, Maxim, Maxim.

Black Jack Brady was his name.

The most important arrest I ever made.

It must have been
about two years ago now.

Of course there was no doubt about it.
He was hung a month after I caught him.

Hello, wait a minute.

They've got old Barmy Ben up now.

You remember
the late Mrs. de Winter, don't you?

- She's gone.
- Yes, we know that.

She went in the sea.
The sea got her.

That's right, that's right.
Now, we want you to tell us

whether you were on the shore
that last night she went sailing.

- Eh?
- Were you on the shore

that last night she went out,
when she didn't come back?

I didn't see nothin'.

I don't want to go to the asylum.
Them cruel folks there.

Now, nobody's going
to send you to the asylum.

All we want you to do
is to tell us what you saw.

I didn't see nothin'.

Come, come. Did you see Mrs. de Winter
get into her boat that last night?

I don't know nothin'.

I don't want to go to the asylum.

Very well. You may go.

- Eh?
- You may go now.

Mr. Tabb,
would you step forward, please?

The evidence you give will be the truth,
the whole truth and nothing but the truth?

I do, so help me God.

The late Mrs. de Winter used to send her boat
to your shipyard for reconditioning.

- That's right, sir.
- Can you remember any occasion

- when she had any sort of accident with the boat?
- No, sir.

I often said Mrs. de Winter
was a born sailor.

Now, when Mrs. de Winter
went below, as is supposed,

and a sudden gust of wind came down,

that would be enough
to capsize the boat, wouldn't it?

Excuse me, sir, but there's
a little more to it than that.

- What do you mean, Mr. Tabb?
- I mean, sir, the sea cocks.

- What are the sea cocks?
- Sea cock ‒

Oh, well, the sea cocks
are the valves to drain out the boat,

and they're always kept tight closed
when you're afloat.

Yes?

Well, yesterday when I examined that boat,
I found they'd been opened.

- What could be the reason for that?
- Just this.

That's what flooded the boat
and sunk her.

- Are you implying ‒
- That boat never capsized at all.

I know it's a terrible thing to say, sir,
but in my opinion, she was scuttled.

- And there's them holes.
- What holes?

- In her planking.
- What are you talking about?

Of course, that boat's been
underwater for over a year,

and the tide's been knocking her
against the ridge,

but it seemed to me them holes looked
as if she'd made 'em from the inside.

Then you believe she must have
done it deliberately.

Couldn't have been no accident,
not with her knowledge of boats.

You knew the former Mrs. de Winter
very well, I believe.

Oh, yes.

Would you have believed her
capable of suicide?

No, frankly, I would not,
but you never can tell.

You may stand down, Mr. Tabb.

Mr. de Winter, please.

I'm sorry to drag you back
for further questioning, Mr. de Winter.

You've heard the statement of Mr. Tabb.

- I wonder if you can help us in any way.
- I'm afraid not.

Can you think of any reason
why there should be holes

in the planking of the late
Mrs. de Winter's boat?

Well, of course I can't
think of any reason.

Has anyone ever discussed
these holes with you before?

Well, since the boat has been at the bottom
of the ocean, I scarcely think that likely.

Mr. de Winter, I want you to believe
we all feel very deeply for you,

but I don't conduct this inquiry
for my own amusement.

- That's rather obvious, isn't it?
- I hope that it is.

Since Mrs. de Winter went sailing alone,
are we to believe she drove those holes herself?

You may believe what you like.

Can you enlighten us as to why Mrs. de Winter
should have wanted to end her own life?

I know of no reason whatever.

Mr. de Winter,
however painful it may be,

I have to ask you
a very personal question.

Were relations between you
and the late Mrs. de Winter perfectly happy?

Were relations between you
and the late Mrs. de Winter perfectly happy?

I won't stand this any longer!
And you might as well know now ‒

It's my wife. She's fainted.

We'll adjourn till after lunch.

Mr. de Winter, I presume
you'll be available for us then?

I told you you should
have had some breakfast.

You're hungry.
That's what's the matter with you.

Mr. Frith thought you might like to
have some lunch and sent me with it.

- That's fine. Can you pull around the corner?
- Very good, sir.

Awfully foolish of me fainting like that.

Nonsense. If you hadn't fainted,
I'd have really lost my temper.

Darling, please be careful.

Darling, wait here a few moments.

- I'll see if I can find old Frank.
- Of course, darling.

- Don't worry about me. I'll be all right.
- Sure?

All right.

Here, have a spot of this.
Do you good.

Thank you.

- Sure you're all right?
- Yes, of course.

- Won't be long.
- Right you are.

- Ugh.
- Hello.

And how does the bride
find herself today?

I say, marriage with Max is not exactly
a bed of roses, is it?

I think you'd better go
before Maxim gets back.

Oh, jealous, is he?
Well, I can't say I blame him.

But you don't think
I'm the Big Bad Wolf, do you?

I'm not, you know.
I'm a perfectly ordinary, harmless bloke.

And I think you're behaving
splendidly over all this.

Perfectly splendidly.

You know, you've grown up a bit
since I last saw you.

- It's no wonder.
- What do you want, Favell?

Oh, hello, Max. Things are going
pretty well for you, aren't they?

Better than you ever expected.

I was rather worried about you at first.
That's why I came down to the inquest.

I'm touched by your solicitude,
but if you don't mind we'd like to have our lunch.

Lunch! I say, what a jolly idea!
Rather like a picnic, isn't it?

I'm so sorry.
Do you mind if I put this there?

You know, Max, old boy, I really think
I ought to talk things over with you.

Talk what things over?

Well, those holes in the planking,
for one thing.

Those holes that were drilled
from the inside.

- Oh, Mullen!
- Yes, sir?

Would you, like a good fellow, have my car
filled with petrol? It's almost empty.

Very good, sir.

- And Mullen, close the door, will you?
- Yes, sir.

Does this bother you?

You know, old boy,
I have a strong feeling

that before the day is out
somebody's going to make use of that, uh,

rather expressive, though somewhat
old-fashioned term "foul play."

Am I boring you with all this?

No? Good.

Well, you see, Max, I find myself
in a rather awkward position.

You've only got to read this note
to understand. It's from Rebecca.

And what's more, she had the foresight
to put the date on it.

She wrote it to me
the day she died.

Incidentally,
I was out on a party on that night,

so I didn't get it until the next day.

What makes you think
that note would interest me?

Oh, I'm not going to bother you
with the contents now,

but I can assure you that
it is not the note of a woman

who intends to drown herself
that same night.

By the way,
what do you do with old bones?

Bury them, eh, what?

However, for the time being ‒

You know, Max, I'm getting awfully fed up
with my job as a motorcar salesman.

I don't know if you've ever
experienced the feeling

of driving an expensive motorcar
which isn't your own,

but it can be very, very exasperating.

You know what I mean.
You want to own the car yourself.

I've often wondered what it would be like
to retire to the country,

have a nice little place
with a few acres of shooting.

I've never figured out what it would cost a year,
but I'd like to talk about it with you.

I'd like to have your advice on how
to live comfortably without hard work.

Hello, Favell.
You looking for me, Maxim?

Yes.

Mr. Favell and I have a little
business transaction on hand.

I think we had better
conduct it over at the inn.

They may have a private room there.

Well, see you later.

Find Colonel Julyan.
Tell him I want to see him immediately.

Come on, Favell. Let's go.

Have you a private room, please?

- Of course, sir. Through there, sir.
- Thank you.

Hope this will do, Mr. de Winter.

Oh, it's splendid, splendid.
Exactly like the Ritz.

- Any orders, gents?
- Yes, you might bring me a large brandy and soda.

How about you, Max? Have one on me.
I feel I can afford to play host.

- Thanks. I don't mind if I do.
- Make it two, will you, my good fellow?

- Very good, sir.
- Where's Mr. de Winter?

Oh, through the other door, sir.

Colonel Julyan, this is Mr. Favell.

Oh, I know Colonel Julyan.
We're old friends, aren't we?

Since you're old friends, I assume you
also know he's head of the police here.

I think he might be interested to hear
your proposition. Go on, tell him all about it.

I merely said I hoped to give up
selling cars and retire into the country.

Actually, he offered to withhold a vital piece
of evidence if I made it worth his while.

I only want to see justice done, Colonel.

Now, that boatbuilder's evidence
suggested certain possible theories

concerning Rebecca's death.

One of them, of course, is suicide.

I have a little note here which I consider
puts that possibility quite out of court.

Read it, Colonel.

"Jack, darling,
I've just seen the doctor

and I'm going down to Manderley
right away.

I shall be at the cottage all this evening
and shall leave the door open for you.

I have something terribly
important to tell you. Rebecca."

Now, does that look like the note of a woman
who had made up her mind to kill herself?

And apart from that, Colonel, do you mean to
tell me that if you wanted to commit suicide,

you'd go to all the trouble
of putting out to sea in a boat,

then take a hammer and chisel and laboriously
knock holes through the bottom of it?

Come, Colonel, as an officer of the law,

don't you feel there are some
slight grounds for suspicion?

- Of murder?
- What else?

You've known Max a long time,
so you know he's the old-fashioned type

who'd die to defend his honor
or who'd kill for it.

It's blackmail, pure and simple.

Blackmail's not so pure nor so simple.

It can bring a lot of trouble
to a great many people,

and the blackmailer sometimes
finds himself in jail at the end of it.

I see. You're going to hold
de Winter's hand through all this

just because he's the big noise around here
and he's actually permitted you to dine with him.

Be careful, Favell.
You've brought an accusation of murder.

- Have you any witnesses?
- I do have a witness.

It's that fellow Ben.

If that stupid coroner hadn't been
as much of a snob as you are,

he'd have seen that half-wit
was hiding something.

And why should Ben do that?

Because we caught him once, Rebecca and I,
peering at us through the cottage window.

Rebecca threatened him with the asylum.
That's why he was afraid to speak.

But he was always hanging about.
He must have seen this whole thing.

It's ridiculous even listening to all this.

Ah. You're like a little trades union,
all of you, aren't you?

And if my guess is right, Crawley,

there's a bit of malice in your soul
toward me, isn't there?

Crawley didn't have much success
with Rebecca,

but he ought to have
more luck this time.

The bride will be grateful
for your fraternal arm, Crawley,

in a week or so.

- Every time she faints, in fact.
- De Winter!

Maxim, please!

That temper of yours
will do you in yet, Max.

Oh, uh, excuse me, gentlemen.

Now, is there anything else?

Yes. You might bring
Mr. de Winter a sedative.

- No, no, nothing at all. Just leave us.
- Very good, sir.

Now, Favell, let's get this business over.

As you seem to have worked out
the whole thing so carefully,

perhaps you can provide us
also with a motive.

I knew you were going
to bring that up, Colonel.

I've read enough detective stories to
know that there must always be a motive.

And if you'll all excuse me a moment,
I'll supply that too.

I wish you would go home.
You ought not to be here through all this.

Please let me stay, Maxim.

Surely, Colonel Julyan,
you're not going to allow this fellow ‒

My opinion of Favell
is no higher than yours, Crawley.

But in my official capacity, I have
no alternative but to pursue his accusation.

I entirely agree with you, Colonel.

In a manner so serious as this, we must
make sure of every point, explore every avenue,

and, in fact, if I may coin a phrase,
leave no stone unturned.

Ah, here she is ‒ the missing link,
the witness who will help supply the motive.

Colonel Julyan, Mrs. Danvers.
I believe you know everyone else.

Won't you sit down?

No offense, Colonel,
but I think I'll put this to Danny.

She'll understand it more easily.
Danny, who was Rebecca's doctor?

Mrs. de Winter
always had Dr. McClean from the village.

Now, you heard.
I said Rebecca's doctor, in London.

- I don't know anything about that.
- Oh, don't give me that, Danny.

You knew everything about Rebecca.
You knew she was in love with me, didn't you?

Surely you haven't forgotten the good times
she and I used to have down at the cottage.

She had a right to amuse herself,
didn't she?

Love was a game to her. Only a game.
It made her laugh, I tell you.

She used to sit on her bed
and rock with laughter at the lot of you.

Can you think of any reason why
Mrs. de Winter should have taken her own life?

No, no, I refuse to believe it.

I knew everything about her,
and I won't believe it.

There, you see? It's impossible.
She knows that as well as I do.

Now, listen. We know that Rebecca went to
a doctor in London on the last day of her life.

- Who was it?
- I don't know.

Oh, I understand, Danny.

You think we're asking you
to reveal secrets of Rebecca's life.

You're trying to defend her.
But that's what I'm doing.

I'm trying to clear her name
of the suspicion of suicide.

Mrs. Danvers, it has been suggested...

that Mrs. de Winter
was deliberately murdered.

There you have it in a nutshell, Danny.

But there's one more thing you'll want to know:
the name of the murderer.

It's a lovely name
that rolls off the tongue so easily:

George Fortescue Maximilian de Winter.

There was a doctor. Mrs. de Winter
sometimes went to him privately.

She used to go to him
even before she was married.

We don't want reminiscences, Danny.
What was his name?

Dr. Baker, 165 Goldhawk Road,
Shepherd's Bush.

There you are, Colonel.
There's where you'll find your motive.

Go and question Dr. Baker.
He'll tell you why Rebecca went to him ‒

to confirm the fact that
she was going to have a child,

a sweet, curly-headed little child.

It isn't true. It isn't true.
She would have told me.

She told Max about it.
Maxim knew he wasn't the father.

So, like the gentleman of the old school
that he is, he killed her.

I'm afraid we shall have
to question this Dr. Baker.

Hear, hear. But for safety's sake,
I think I'd like to go along too.

Yes, unfortunately, I suppose
you have the right to ask that.

I'll see the coroner and have the inquest
postponed pending further evidence.

I say, aren't you rather afraid that
the prisoner, shall we say, might bolt?

You have my word for it
that he will not do that.

Toodle-oo, Max.
Come along, Danny.

Let's leave the unhappy couple to spend
their last moments together alone.

Are you sure you don't want me
to go with you, Maxim?

No, darling.
It'll be very tiring for you.

I'll be back the very first thing in the morning,
and I won't even stop to sleep.

I'll be waiting for you.

- Ready, Maxim?
- Yes.

You two go on ahead.
I'll follow with Favell.

Dr. Baker, you may have seen
Mr. de Winter's name in the papers recently.

Oh, yes, yes. In connection with a body
that was found in a boat.

My wife was reading all about it.
A very sad case.

- My condolences ‒
- Oh, this is going to take hours. Let me ‒

Don't bother, Favell.
I think I can tell Dr. Baker.

We're trying to discover certain facts

concerning the late Mrs. de Winter's
activities on the day of her death,

October 12, last year,
and I want you to tell me, if you can,

if anyone of that name
paid you a visit on that date.

I'm awfully sorry.
I'm afraid I can't help you.

I should have remembered
the name de Winter.

I've never attended
a Mrs. de Winter in my life.

Well, how can you possibly tell
all your patients' names?

I can look it up
in my engagement diary if you like.

- Did you say the 12th of October?
- Yes.

Oh, here we are.
No, no de Winter.

- Are you sure?
- Well, here are all the appointments for that day.

"Ross, Campbell, Steadall,
Perrino, Danvers, Mathews ‒"

Danny! What the devil!

Would you read that name again?
Did you say "Danvers"?

Yes, I have a Mrs. Danvers for 3:00.

What did she look like?
Can you remember?

Yes, I remember her quite well.
She was a very beautiful woman ‒

tall, dark, exquisitely dressed.

- Rebecca.
- The lady must have used an assumed name.

Is that so?

This is a surprise.
I'd known her a long time.

What was the matter with her?

My dear sir, there are certain ethics.

Could you supply a reason, Dr. Baker,
for Mrs. de Winter's suicide?

For her murder, you mean.
She was going to have a kid, wasn't she?

Come on, out with it!

Tell me what else a woman of her class
be doing in a dump like this?

I take it the official nature of this visit
makes it necessary for me to ‒

I assure you we'd not be troubling you
if it were not necessary.

You want to know
if I can suggest any motive

as to why Mrs. de Winter
should have taken her life?

Yes, I think I can.

The woman who called herself Mrs. Danvers
was very seriously ill.

She was not going to have a child?

That was what she thought,
but my diagnosis was different.

I sent her to a well-known specialist
for an examination and X-rays,

and on this date
she returned to me for his report.

I remember her standing here,
holding out her hand for the photograph.

"I want to know the truth," she said.

"I don't want soft words
and a bedside manner.

If I'm for it, you can tell me right away."

I knew she was not the type
to accept a lie.

She'd asked for the truth,
so I let her have it.

She thanked me and I never saw her again,
so I assumed that ‒

What was wrong with her?

Cancer.

Yes, the growth was deep-rooted.

An operation would have been
no earthly use at all.

In a short time,
she would have been under morphia.

There was nothing that could
be done for her, except wait.

Did she say anything when you told her?

She smiled in a queer sort of way.

Your wife was a wonderful woman,
Mr. de Winter.

And, oh, yes,
I remember she said something

that struck me as being
very peculiar at the time.

When I told her it was a matter of months,

she said,
"Oh, no, Doctor, not that long."

You've been very kind.
You've told us all we wanted to know.

We shall probably need
an official verification.

- Verification?
- Yes, to confirm the verdict of suicide.

I understand.
Can I offer you gentlemen a glass of sherry?

No, very kind.
I think we ought to be going.

Thank heaven we know the truth.

Dreadful thing, dreadful.

A young and lovely woman like her.
No wonder ‒

I never had the remotest idea.
Neither did Danny, I'm sure.

I wish I had a drink.

Will we be needed at the inquest
any further, Colonel Julyan?

Oh, no. I can see to it that Maxim
is not troubled any further.

- Thank you, sir.
- Are you ready to start, Colonel?

No, thank you.
I'm staying in town tonight.

And let me tell you, Favell,
blackmail is not much of a profession,

and we know how to deal with it in our part
of the world, strange as it may seem to you.

I'm sure I don't know
what you're talking about.

But if you ever need a new car,
Colonel, just let me know.

It's impossible to thank you
for your kindness to us through all this.

- You know what I feel without my saying anything.
- Not at all. Put the whole thing behind you.

But let your wife know.
She'll be getting worried.

Yes, I'll phone her at once.
Then we'll get straight down to Manderley.

Good-bye, Crawley.
Maxim's got a great friend.

- Frank.
- Yes, Maxim?

There's something you don't know.

Oh, no, there isn't.

I didn't kill her, Frank.

But I know now that when she told me
about the child, she wanted me to kill her.

She lied on purpose.
She foresaw the whole thing.

That's why she stood there laughing
when she...

Don't think about it anymore.

Thank you, Frank.

Hello, Danny?
I just wanted to tell you the news.

Rebecca held out on both of us.

She had cancer.

Yes, suicide.

And now Max
and that dear little bride of his

will be able to stay on at Manderley
and live happily ever after.

Bye-bye, Danny.

- This your car, sir?
- Yes.

Will you be going soon?
This isn't a parking place, you know.

Oh, isn't it? People are entitled
to leave their cars outside if they want to.

It's a pity some of you fellows
haven't anything better to do.

When you phoned,
did she say she'd wait up?

I asked her to go to bed,
but she wouldn't hear of it.

I wish I could get some
more speed out of this thing.

Is something worrying you, Maxim?

I can't get over the feeling
something's wrong.

- Frank!
- What's the matter? Why did we stop?

What's the time?

Oh, this clock's wrong.
It must be 3:00 or 4:00. Why?

That can't be the dawn
breaking over there.

It's in the winter that
you see the Northern Lights, isn't it?

That's not the Northern Lights.
That's Manderley!

Frith! Frith!
Mrs. de Winter. Where is she?

- I thought I saw her, sir.
- Where?

Maxim!

Thank heaven you've come back to me.

- Are you all right, darling? Are you all right?
- Oh, yes, I'm all right.

Mrs. Danvers. She's gone mad.

She said she'd rather destroy Manderley
than see us happy here.

Look! The west wing!