All language subtitles for Love.In.A.Cold.Climate.2001.S01E01.720p.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H.264

- Where are they?

Come on!

Got you at last.

Hey.

Linda Radlett was my age,

my favorite cousin

and, for many years, my
favorite human being.

Though I lived with Aunt Emily,

I spent all my
holiday at Alconleigh

with my cousins the Radletts.

- How's Emily?

- Father's going to
hunt us tomorrow.

- Well, enjoy
yourselves, children,

because we have got
other things to do.

- Linda and
I were coming out that summer.

- What do you think?

- And Aunt Sadie was
giving us a ball.

Oh, I like this.

- Heavenly Mrs. Crab copied
it out of Vogue for me.

Look.

- Oh.

Do you think he'll come?

- Well, you never can
tell in the country.

Somebody might bring him.

He might break down
in his motor car

on the way to Badminton.
- We were, of course,

both in love with
people we had never met.

- Who is that
beautiful girl in pink?

- Linda with the
Prince of Wales.

It's Linda Radlett,
Your Highness.

- And I
with a fat, red-faced farmer

I had seen in the village.

These loves were strong
and painfully delicious.

They occupied all our thoughts,

but we hoped they would be
superseded by real people.

- We still haven't
got enough men.

We've got all the
replies in now.

We'll have to get
Matt home from Eton.

- What about the curate?

- Fanny, why don't we
invite Lord Merlin?

- Lord Merlin?

- Ma and I have been for tea.

He dyes his doves pink.

- And dries them in
the linen cupboard.

- Ha!

- And do you
remember the whippets

with their diamond necklaces.

They have grander
jewels than I do.

He could bring a house party.

- If you ask that brute
Merlin to bring his friends,

we'll get a lot of aesthetes,
sewers from Oxford.

I wouldn't put it past him
to bring some foreigners.

- Foreigners!

- I hear he sometimes has frogs,
even wops to stay with him.

I will not have my
house filled with wops.

- But Fa...
- It's all right, darling,

leave it to me.

- What do you
think you're doing?

- It's palsy practice.

- In a few years when
you're really old,

you'll probably have palsy.

- I'm giving you a
little practice now,

before you actually get it,

so you won't be dropping
things all the time.

- Is that from The Bolter?

- Don't call her that, dear.

- Dashed fine-looking woman.

Is she still married to
that sewer from Monte Carlo?

- My mother, who was
too beautiful and gay

to be burdened with a child,

had left when I was a month old,

and had since run away so often

and with so many
different people

that she became
known as The Bolter.

She doesn't realize I've grown.

- Perhaps me wear it.
- You'll have to pay her.

- Sixpence.
- A shilling.

- Ninepence.

- Ninepence all right?

Fanny?

- And remember, you're
paying us two shillings each

not to be embarrassing.

- Yes, Victoria.

- We spent the
weeks before the ball

in an agony of waiting
for our lives to begin.

- If this comes out,

I'll marry the man I love.

If this comes out,

I'll marry at 18.

If this comes out...

Linda was soft-hearted

and horribly easy to tease.

- A little houseless match.

It has no roof, no thatch.

It lies alone, makes no moan.

The little houseless match.

- As the only
boy, my cousin Matt

was the sole Radlett
allowed to go to school.

- All right, all
right, all right.

I'll tell you how it happens.

The mother's stomach
swells up and then

it bursts open like
a ripe pumpkin,

and the infant shoots out.

- Oh, rot!

- Don't be such an ass, Matt.

Now, listen.

- What's that?

- Ducks And Duck Breeding.
- Ducks.

- The
Hons was our secret society.

We met in the linen cupboard,

it was the only warm
place at Alconleigh.

Anybody we hated
was a counter-Hon.

We, of course, were Hons.

- Ducks can only copulate
in running water.

- Tell us about sex,
Fanny, you must know.

- Oh, you are lucky, Fanny,
having a wicked mother.

- I know.

- She must be
copulating all the time.

- I wish I didn't have a mother.

When I'm 19, I'm going to
run away, just like yours.

- Well, you can't have my money.

- How much have you got?

- My fare to London and a
month and two days in a bedsit

in Clapham with
basin and breakfast.

- I can't wait.

- You see, we're
still 20 men short.

- How many is Lord
Merlin bringing?

- Ha!

Merlin.

Thin end of the wedge.

- Only six.

- Well, what are we going to do?

There's only five days left.

- It's all right.

Leave it to me.

- Where did he get them from?

- The Lords.

- Look at him.

His hair sort of slips
off backwards, doesn't it?

- Like an eiderdown
in the night.

Poor old thing.

I must say, if he was one's dog,

one would have him put down.

- Oh, no, bags it not be me.

- May I have the honor?

- What's that thing hanging
over your fireplace?

- That's my entrenching tool.

Used it in 1915.

Thrashed to death eight
Germans one by one

as they crawled out of a dugout.

- Ooh, sorry.
- Perfectly all right.

- I wish we'd been
taught to dance.

- You're doing splendidly.

- I wish we'd been
taught anything.

- I hope my wife is all right.

- I'm sorry you had
to leave her at home.

- It's the first time we've
been separated in 40 years.

So this was it.

This was what we had been
waiting for all our lives.

- Lord Merlin's arrived!

- Oh, thank God.

- Who?
- Merlin.

- Sadie, how lovely to see you.

- So happy to see you.

- I saw Nijinsky.
- Did you?

- Linda.
- Hello.

- Fanny.

I've heard so much about you.

- Have you really got a
folly with an angel on top?

- Every evening, to celebrate
the hour of my birth,

it blows its trumpet.

The locals get annoyed
because it's at 20 past nine,

just too late to remind
them to switch on the news.

- Might I have the
pleasure of the next dance?

- Oh, yes, please.

- Isn't Linda remarkable?

- I adore her.

- She comes to tea sometimes

when she can get away from here.

I suspect with careful nurturing

she shall become one of the
great beauties of the age.

You know Polly
Hampton, don't you?

- Yes.

Oh, she used to be my
best friend in the world

apart from Linda.

- Well, she's coming home
from India next week.

- How wonderful.

Oh, I have missed her.

It will be lovely
to see her again.

- Paddington.

Who's that sewer with Linda?

- His name's Tony Kroesig.

His father runs the
Bank of England.

- Good God.

I never expected to harbor a
full blown Hun in this house.

Who on earth asked him?

- The Kroesigs
aren't Huns, Matthew,

they've been over
here for generations.

They're a highly respectable
family of English bankers.

- Once a Hun, always a Hun.

- Matthew, dear, go
and check the boilers.

- What?
- The boilers

for the hot water.

- Who do you hunt with?

- The Heythrop.

- Are you coming to
the meet tomorrow?

- No.

We've got a house
full of guests.

They'll never let me.

- How about a race?
- All right.

Oh, that poor hare.

Unfortunately, rescuing a hare

was the one romantic gesture
of Tony Kroesig's life.

The next month, having come
home from ruling India,

the Montdores invited
me to a house party.

Life with the Radletts
was tempestuous,

but underneath it I felt loved.

The terror at Hampton, however,
was of a different kind,

and I would never
have dared go there

if it wasn't for Polly.

- Miss Frances Logan.

- You're not by any chance
The Bolter's daughter?

- Yes.

Yes, I am.

- The Bolter's girl.
- Don't be funny.

How could The Bolter
have a grown-up daughter?

- Oh, Veronica, do
come here a minute.

It's The Bolter's child.

- Ah, Fanny.

There you are.

Come and have some tea, dear.

- But surely The Bolter
can't be more than 36.

- That's right, bird-brain,
just do the sums.

- What about the nine months?

- Not nine, darling.

- Don't you remember
how bogus it all was

and how shamingly huge her
bouquet had to be, poor sweet?

- Do you know,

the first person she ever
bolted with was my Chad.

Lucky me got him next,

but only after she'd
bolted from him again.

- So, Fanny, how are
the Radlett girls?

Do sit down, dear.

Go and fetch Polly.

She's in the billiards
room with Boy.

Linda got engaged yet?

- No, not yet.

- Sadie's a wonderful
woman, of course,

and I'm devoted to her,

but she hasn't the
very smallest idea

of how to bring up girls.

- Tell me, are you in love?

- Oh, of course
she is, poor sweet.

Just look at that blush.

Now, we're not going to worm,

but what we really want
to know to settle a bet is

have you always fancied somebody

ever since you can remember?

- Oh, yes.

Lord Byron, Rudolph Valentino.

- Yeah, but there
you are, you see.

- Oh.

- From kiddy car
to hearse, darling,

I couldn't know it better.

After all, what would
there be to think about

when one's alone, otherwise?

- The Duc de Sauveterre.

- He's still not married.

- He came to us in India.

Such fun.

He was very much taken up with
the little ranee of Rawalpur.

In fact they do say
her last baby...

- Shush.

- Poor creatures, it's
one baby after another.

One can't help feeling
sorry for them.

Like little birds, you know.

Of course they
simply worshipped me.

It was really touching.

- Where is Boy?

- Playing billiards with Polly.

I've sent word once.

Ah, here they
are.

- A-ha.

Here at last, my lady wife.

- Polly.
- Oh, Fanny, I've missed you.

- I'm dying to hear
about everything.

- Let's go upstairs and talk.

- Hello.

- That's Boy Dougdale, isn't it?

- Yes, you remember him.

He's married to
my Aunt Patricia.

- Why is he called Boy?

He's frightfully old.

- He doesn't think
he's old one bit.

- Polly.

- Are you pleased to
be back in this room?

It's the one you used to have.

Do you remember?

- Oh, of course I do.

- I used to think about
us sometimes in India.

Those black velvet dresses
with red sashes we had

for coming down after tea.

- Oh.

Oh, that seems so long ago now.

I suppose you came out in India.

- Yes, I've been out
two years, actually.

It was all very dull.

Do you enjoy it?

- I like the dressing up.

- So do I.

Do you think about dresses
and hats all the time,

even in church?

I do too.

But what is coming
out in England like?

Does everybody talk
about love all the time?

- Yes.

Yes, I suppose they do.

- And all going on like
the people downstairs.

- Yes.

Yes.

- Oh, bother.

I thought it would be
different in a cold climate.

- Have you fallen in love yet?

I could have.

Lots of times.

Some of the rajahs are
awfully attractive.

Honestly, Fanny, I believe Mama
would rather I fell in love

with an Indian than not at all.

- But don't you want
to fall in love?

Oh, I do.

- Oh, Fanny.

- What
was the matter with Polly?

There was something I
didn't understand, not then,

about the atmosphere at Hampton.

I wondered if Lord
Montdore felt it.

He never reacted to anything

and he seemed somehow
to be made of cardboard.

- Then the Mohammedans...

- Is your uncle Lord Alconleigh?

- Yes.
- He's quite barmy.

Doesn't he hunt people with
bloodhounds by full moon?

- Oh, but we love it.

Oh, you can't imagine
what fun it is.

- I hear those Radlett
girls are simply killing.

Rats in their pockets,
God knows what.

- But rats are very intelligent.

- No, no, no, Veronica.

The whole point was,

he brought the microscope
to look at his own...

- Roly!

Dare you to use
that word at dinner.

Even if you know how to
pronounce it, which I doubt.

It's too shame-making.

Not a dinner thing at all.

- Dear Fanny.

I remember you when
you were little.

Hm?

My, you have grown.

- Have I?

- And hasn't Polly turned
out to be a beauty?

Dear Sonya.

She's done absolutely
everything for that girl.

Some man's going
to be very lucky.

Don't you think?

I mean, with her
inheriting all of this,

she's probably the wealthiest
young woman in Britain.

Oh, yes.

We expect a splendid match.

- I know people do say he's a
daisy, whatever that may be,

but half these rumors are
put about by anarchists.

- I must go and powder my nose.

- I go in the morning
and that's that.

I don't have to be let out

like a dog at intervals,
thank goodness.

There's nothing so
common, to my mind.

- I think the worst...
- Really, Polly, it's too bad.

Just chatter, can't you?

It's of no consequence
what you say.

Better recite out of the A, B, C

than sit there like a deaf-mute.

What did they think of you?

Sit here, Fanny, and talk to us.

Dear, what is the
matter with my daughter?

She takes no notice of the
young men I provide for her

and they take no notice of her.

They worship me, of course,
but what is the good of that?

- She's bound to fall

for some nice chap
in London, darling.

- It's all very well,

but she was out for two
years in India, you know.

Even poor Delia's girl
fell in love with a rajah.

- I don't blame her.

Rajahs must be perfect heaven.

All those diamonds.

- Oh, no, my dear.

Any English family has
better stones than they do.

I never saw anything to compare
with mine when I was there.

- Oh, it's such a relief
to have you here, Fanny.

She only asked that Frenchman

because she thinks no
one can resist him.

Even me.

- Oh.

I've been thinking of
porridge for hours.

- It's funny how a huge dinner

makes you even
hungrier next morning.

- Curious, isn't it?

We can't stay here.

It's too sad.

- Don't you think Polly
is very beautiful?

- Yeah.

But she is also a riddle to me.

Perhaps she is not having a
properly organized sex life.

- Very few English girls of 19

have a properly
organized sex life.

- They go hunting instead.

She is a beauty despite
those terrible clothes.

When she has had a little
love, she may blossom.

Or she may cram
a hat on her head

and become a Lady
Patricia Dougdale.

Everything depends on the lover.

- I'm so confused in this house.

Who is whose lover?

- It doesn't
make a bit of difference.

Sooner or later,

everybody becomes the
lover of everybody else.

When they change lovers,

it's more like a cabinet
reshuffle than a new government.

- Is it like that in France?

- Oh, no.

The ministers stay
longer in their posts.

- Why?

- French women generally keep
their lovers if they want to

because they know there
is one infallible method

of doing so.

- No.

Oh, do tell.

- It's very simple.

They give into them.

In every respect.

These English

hm, they play their little
games, out when you telephone.

All that.

No Frenchman would put
up with it for a moment.

- They're very
nasty, aren't they?

- Not at all.

Poor things.

I love them.

So easy to get on with.

And I love la mere Montdore.

How amusing she is
with her snobbishness.

I'm very fond of snobs.

They are always
so charming to me.

And dear old Montdore.

He can't see what's
going on under his nose.

- What is going
on under his nose?

- And so, Fanny dear,

are you going to be a
bolter like your mother?

- Oh, no.

A tremendous sticker.

- Hm.

- You've ruffled a few
feathers here, mon cher.

Our hostess was hoping you'd
pay court to her daughter,

rather than bowling
over the rabbits.

- If this comes out,
he'll telephone.

What's the time, darling?

- Guess.

- A quarter to six.

- Better than that.
- Six.

- Not quite so good.

- Five to.

- Yes.

- If this comes out,
he's thinking about me.

- A little
houseless match.

- Victoria!

Go away!

Hello.

Go away.

Go away, go away.

Tony!

That was Lavender
Davies on the telephone.

She wants Fanny and me to
lunch there on Thursday.

- Oh, you can't have
my car, I'm afraid.

- Oh, but, Mummy, please, I
do so terribly want to go.

- To Lavender's?

Mm.

Last time you said you
never wanted to go there

as long as you lived.

Great haunches of cod, you said.

- But, erm, her brother's
got a baby badger.

- When you go to
London for the season,

you'll be far too busy
to think about badgers.

- Please, Mummy.

- Oh, well.

Perhaps Perkins can
take me in the Daimler.

- We must get hold
of some rouge.

- I think you can
use geranium juice.

- But geraniums aren't out
at this time of year, silly.

- We can blue our eyelids
out of Jassy's paint box.

- Oh, yes.

I'll get the verbena soap
from Mummy's bathroom.

We can let it melt in the bath
and we shall smell delicious.

Nanny.

Nanny.

Where do you keep

that powder that you used
to dust our bottoms with?

- I thought you loathed
Lavender Davies.

- Oh, shut up.

- Last time, you said she was
the dullest girl you ever met

and you'd like to bash her in
the face with a Hons mallet.

- I didn't.

- Why have you got that
red stuff on your cheeks?

- Oh, do go away.

- Why are you starting already?

You'll be hours too early.

- If you don't shut up, I'll
put your newt back in the pond.

- Why don't you bring
Lavender Davies back

for a nice long visit?

- Not very Honnish of them.

- You don't think
they'll tell Farve?

Oh.

We look like Dutch dolls.

- Cigarette?

- No, thank you.

- No, thank you.

- Been hunting lately?

- Oh, yes.

We were out yesterday.

- Good day?
- Yes, very.

We found at once

and had a five-mile point and...

- That's marvellous.

A five-mile point?

Well, I must come out
with the Heythrop again,

they're doing awfully
well this season, I hear.

We had a good day yesterday too.

- Did you really?

- Well, the going was a bit
sticky down in Bailiff's Meadow.

Damn fool farmer never
drains it, you know.

- Oh.

- But once we got up on the
ridge, we had a splendid gallop.

Ah, good.

Here are the others.

- Did you hear that
Freddy got sent down?

- No. Oh?

This was life, we felt,

and we would have been
quite happy just looking on

had it not been for that
ghastly feeling of guilt,

which was starting
to give us a pain

rather like indigestion.

- Linda and Fanny.

Fa wants you in the
business room now.

- Do you realize that if
you were married women

your husbands could
divorce you for this?

Your poor Aunt Emily.

All these years she's
looked after you

and this is her reward.

- It's not Fanny's fault.

- You can go straight home.

Oh, you'll go the same
way as your mother.

Sure as eggs is eggs.

As for you, miss...

You're damn lucky not to get
a thrashing, do you hear?

There'll be no question
of a London season now.

- Oh.

- You'll have to be watched
every minute of the day.

And I don't want that
Hun's name ever mentioned

in this house again.

- I didn't tell, I promise.

Somebody left a
scarf in his room,

in Tony Kroesig's room

and he rang up to ask
whether it was yours.

It was Uncle Matthew's

favorite superstition that
if you wrote somebody's name

on a piece of paper
and put it in a drawer,

that person would
die within a year.

The drawers were full of the
names of people he hated.

Bernard Shaw, Lloyd
George, Gandhi.

Tony Kroesig.

As always, Uncle Matthew's
bark was worse than his bite.

Relaxation began, the
thin end of the wedge,

and gradually things
returned to normal.

Plans for the London
season went ahead,

though under conditions
of strict vigilance.

However, not strict enough,

and what I knew would
happen inevitably did.

At five in the morning
in a beautiful house

on the east side
of Berkeley Square.

- That bloody Hun
Kroesig's just telephoned.

Wanted to speak to you.

I told him to get
the hell out of it.

I don't want you mixed
up with any Germans.

Do you understand?

- Well, I am mixed
up, as it happens.

I'm engaged to him.

- Sadie!

Sadie!

I...

Sadie!

- Jassy.

Jassy, darling.

Lend me your running-away money.

- I've saved and
scraped for five years.

I simply can't begin
all over again.

- But I'll give it you back.

Tony will.

When we're married.

- I know men.

- Yes?

Linda!

That hog Merlin's on the phone.

- I'm in love.

- What makes you think so?

- Well, one doesn't think.

One knows.

- Fiddlesticks.

- Well, you evidently
don't know about love,

so what's the use
of talking to you?

- Love is for grown-up people,

as you will one day discover.

You will also discover

that it has nothing
to do with marriage.

I'm all in favor of you
marrying soon, in a year or two.

Oh, but for God's sake,
for all our sakes,

don't go and marry a
boor like Tony Kroesig.

- Well, if he's such a boor,

why did you ask him to stay?

- I didn't ask him.

Begbie brought him because
Cecil had flu and couldn't come.

Besides, I can't
guess you'll marry

every stopgap I
have in my house.

- Well, you ought
to be more careful.

Anyhow, I can't think why
you say Tony's a boor.

He knows about everything.

- Exactly.

- It
was a terrible time.

The Kroesigs were as
opposed to the marriage

as the Alconleighs.

Aunt Sadie tried to
persuade Uncle Matthew

that the marriage, though by
no means ideal, was inevitable,

and that if he didn't want

to alienate forever
his favorite child,

he'd better put a
good face on it.

- Well, at least the fellow's
not a Roman Catholic.

- So Linda's marrying him, then.

What a silly girl.

Well, she always has
been in my opinion.

He's rich, of course,
but it's banker's money.

It comes and it goes,

and however much
of it there may be,

it's not like marrying all this.

So that's her accounted for.

Now you must be the
next one, Fanny.

- Oh, no.

No one will ever marry me.

- Mm, Nonsense.

And don't you go marrying
just anybody for love.

Remember that love cannot last.

It never, never does.

But if you marry all
this, it's for your life.

- A-ha.
- Where are you going?

- To see your mother.
- She's not dressed yet.

- Lady Kroesig, this is my
mother, Lady Alconleigh.

- How do you do?

- My father, Lord Alconleigh.

- Good evening.
- Good evening.

- How do you do?
- How do you do?

- Good evening.
- Good evening.

- Evening.
- Let's go in, shall we?

It's rather nippy out here.

- We love the theater.

Don't we, dear?

- Yes.

- Have you seen any
of the new shows?

- Well, we don't go up
to London a great deal.

- Well, you did see
Romeo And Juliet once.

- But your father got so upset.

- All the fault of
that damn padre.

That fellow Romeo might
have known a blasted papist

would mess up the whole thing.

Damn fool of a nurse too.

Bet she was an RC.

Dismal old bitch.

Hmph.

- I expect they keep you
very busy at the bank.

- Oh, yeah.

- Don't know how
you can stand it.

I was saying to the bank manager
at Monford only yesterday,

must be the hell of a life,

fussing about with other
fellas' money all day.

Indoors.

- I don't spend my
whole life indoors.

I have my roses.

- What a lot you London people
always know about gardens.

- Well, I'm not really
a London person.

I work in London, but
my home is in Surrey.

- I count that as the same.

They're all so excited in
the village, Lady Kroesig.

They've already planned
the flowers for the church.

- But we presumed that you'd
have a London wedding, my dear.

- But we thought...
- St Margaret's, of course.

Well, nobody will come
down to Gloucestershire.

And Linda will have half the
number of wedding presents.

- Oh, Ma, do let's.

- I am not going
to lead my daughter

through a crowd of
gaping strangers.

- Of course
Linda married for love.

She was too much of a romantic
to marry for anything else.

But the odds were stacked
against her from the start.

The families were no
longer on speaking terms.

The Kroesigs considered her
eccentric and extravagant,

and her family uncouth,

while the Radletts considered
the Kroesigs vulgar

and Tony a first-class boor.

- Did you ever see
anything so ghastly

as Lady Kroesig's hat?

- Bankers don't appear
to be much to look at.

- It's extraordinarily
unsuitable

having to know them at
all, let alone marry them.

But these sort of people have
got megalomania nowadays,

one can't get away from them.

- Really, Alconleigh's
not fit to have children

if this is the best he can do.

- You'll never get all
this into your coffin.

- What do you mean?

- Women are always buried
in their wedding dresses.

- Don't be such a ghoul!

- Come on, Jassy, let's
not upset Linda today.

- Did you see what mingy little
things they gave poor Linda?

- A check.

I mean, it's all very well,
but for how much, I wonder.

- No tiara, no necklace.

What will the poor
child wear at court?

Hardly worth being called
by that nasty German name,

I should say.

- And a horrible house
in one of those squares

near Marble Arch.

- Oh, Lord Merlin.

- Oh, hello, Merlin.

- Boy.

- Have you seen
the Kroesig sister?

- They'll have a
job getting her off.

- She's
training to be a vet.

- First sensible thing I've
heard about any of them.

No point in cluttering
up the ballrooms

with girls who look like that.

Simply not fair on anybody.

- How do you know Boy Dougdale?

- Erm...

He wrote a history of my family.

He's an expert on
ducal genealogy.

- Oh, yes.

He used to give talks
at the Women's Institute

when I was little.

He did such stupid things to us.

Linda and I called him
the Lecherous Lecturer.

- He's certainly very fond
of dukes and duchesses.

- Is that why he trails around

after Lady Montdore everywhere?

- They do
say he's her lover.

- Her lover?

- But I think it's more
complicated than that.

- What do you mean?
- Poor Patricia.

Suffering in silence.

- May Day, I think.

- Well, that's good.

It must either be the first,

or indeed the last
ball of the season

if people are going
to remember it.

- Polly.

Honestly.

You'd think she'd be
grateful, wouldn't you?

Not at all.

Sulky and disagreeable.

I can hardly get
a word out of her.

She never meets anybody.

And if she never meets people,
how can she marry them?

- Is there so much
hurry for her to marry?

- Well, you know
she'll be 21 in May.

She can't go on
like this forever.

- Polly, my dear.

Come over here.

- Well, marriage doesn't
solve everything, you know.

You don't want her to make
an unfortunate choice.

- What could be the
matter with her?

So beautiful and no BA at all.

- Oh, no, no, no.

It's SA, my darling.

Sex appeal.

- Or BO.

- When we were young, none of
that existed, thank goodness.

Once was either a beauty or a
jolie-laide and that was that.

All the same, now it's been
invented, this sex appeal,

I suppose it's better
if the girls have it,

their partners seem to like it.

And Polly hasn't a
vestige, you can see that.

Ever since she was born,

I've worried and
fussed over that child,

thought of the awful things
that might happen to her,

that Montdore might die
before she was settled,

her looks would go,

she might have a
terrible accident

and spend the rest of her
days in a spinal chair.

All sorts of things.

But the one thing that
never crossed my mind

was that she might
end up an old maid.

Oh.

Where's she gone?

After the honeymoon,

Tony started work in
his father's old bank,

and prepared to step into
a safe Conservative seat.

- Come back to bed.

- An ambition
which was soon realized.

- What, dear?

Now, you haven't forgotten
about tonight, have you?

- No.

- I think
Linda's marriage was a failure

almost from the start,
but being Linda,

she maintained for as long as
possible a good shop front.