All language subtitles for The.Jewel.in.the.Crown.S01E07.Daughters.of.the.Regiment.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H.264-MZABI_track3_[eng]

*

(playing classical Indian music)

(music continues)

Three star, you see.

This is the other side.

It's Pyari on the sitar.

The woman on the couch
in a spangled sari

is a Maharanee,
but suing for divorce.

The elderly Englishman
beside her is her legal adviser.

I don't imagine
it goes further than that.

That white boy
whose head he's fondling

looks like an AB from a ship
of His Majesty's Service.

It's one way
for boys like that

to see some of the bright lights
when they're ashore.

(music stops)

(applause)

Jimmy, the Movement Control
telephoned.

The plane for Columbo
leaves half an hour earlier

than they said.

Thanks, Mira.

I brought somebody to hear
Pyari-- her name's Sarah.

Hello.

Pyari's in good form, hmm?

He said they've asked for him
at Government House.

Did you hear?

Will he go?

He said only if he could
take a bomb in his sitar,

but why ruin a good instrument?

So that's that.

Mira's a stunner,
isn't she?

Yes, beautiful.

She keeps her husband in drink,
pays all his gambling debts

and his mistress's clothes
and jewelry accounts.

Does she? Why?

Why not?

She's so rich,
she can't count it.

Anyway, she likes
his mistress.

They were lovers.

Mira has friends in Cairo.

That's how I got
to know this place.

It's my unofficial
address in Cal.

Has Mira got friends
in Ceylon, too?

We both have.

Then you'll be nice
and comfortable.

It is one of my aims
in life.

Isn't it yours?

Yes, I suppose it must be.

Well, that's
refreshingly honest.

That honor
of the regiment exterior

is paper-thin, isn't it?

Didn't the injection take?

It's usually fatal.

Growing up
with all the po-faced kids

in a sort of ghastly
nonstop performance

of "Where the Rainbow Ends."

And you escaped?

I suppose that's how it looks.

It's only half the truth.

What's the other half?

Last Christmas,

I was in Pindi, staying
with a friend of a friend

who's been out here
for years.

We were tremendously polite,

but I had nothing at all
to say to him or his wife

or two of the po-faced kids.

They'd been trapped in some
perpetual Edwardian sunlight.

I felt I ought to say,
"Come back, all is forgiven."

Come back where?

Forgiven by whom,
and for what?

For what?

Don't you know?

This place is
a goldmine,

but it's stiff with people
dying of hunger in the streets.

That's the legacy from all those
blue-eyed Bible thumpers

who came out here
because they couldn't stand

the commercial pace back home.

I'll give it
another two years

after the Socialists
have won the next election.

I mean, who wants India
as one of our post-war problems?

Are you a Socialist?

Good Lord, no.

I'm a low Tory,
if you could call me anything.

Why are you so sure
the Socialists

would win an election?

Won't Mr. Churchill's reputation
count for anything?

Why do women
always call him

"Mr. Churchill"?

Makes him sound like a vicar.

Of course,
his name will count

for everything patriotic
and time-expired.

I don't suppose
you've talked much

to common British soldiers,
have you?

The fellows you refer to
as BORs.

I'll tell you what
your BOR in Deolali

or your door-to-door salesman
with Wingate in Burma thinks.

He thinks, "All right, mate,
you're the officer.

"Have it cushy while you can
and duck when the shit flies.

"But when this stinking mess
is sorted out, be a good lad

"and bugger off
out of my government

and out of my bloody life
but forever."

He thinks his own lot
ought to run things

because there are
more of them.

More than there are of la-di-da
poofs swigging brandy

and getting hot for women

that they don't know
how to poke.

Go on.

You're quite a girl,
Sarah Layton.

No, I'm not quite a girl.

I'm this one.

And you're still a virgin,
of course.

Yes, I'm still
"a virgin, of course."

Are you annoyed with me
for asking?

Or because it's something
you don't want to admit?

Or a bit of both?

Hmm?

In any case,
clearly I must apologize.

(loud talking)

Mira is doing us proud.

It's Lakshmi Kripalani.

She sings,
in case you didn't know.

(applause)

They're going to play again.

I'd better show you
where you can freshen up.

That's a good idea.

They might go on
for an hour.

I'll keep this warm.

Yes, thank you.

(singer begins)

There's probably
everything you want.

If not, just ring.

One of the girls
will come.

Thank you.

(music continues)

You're going
the wrong way.

I'm over here.

You do seem startled.

Weren't you expecting me?

No.

That's a pity.

I thought you understood
that we had an appointment.

Mira did,
so you mustn't worry

about our absence
causing comment.

We had no appointment.

Please turn on the light
and open the door.

Are you sure you want
the door opened?

Yes.

The key's here.

Oh dear, have I miscalculated?

I don't often, but it is an
occupational hazard of the male.

You get a few more slaps
than you deserve,

but you also get screws.

So you can't complain.

Are you quite sure you don't
want to lose that cherry?

Quite sure.

I'll give you one minute
to unlock the door.

You're not really plain.

Quite pretty, really.

In the buff,

I expect your breasts
look much more prominent.

What I like best about you

is you never say anything
too obvious.

That and your
colonel's daughter guts.

I brought up our drinks,
as well.

Do you want yours?

Not too much.

Aunt Fenny told me that
your mother drinks.

It's embarrassing,
isn't it?

My father drinks a lot.

What she should do
is screw.

I mean, that would be better
for the colonel,

not to come home
to an alcoholic

who gets her screws
out of bottles.

Like your father?

Yes, just like him.

And what did your mother
do for screws?

Oh, mother was never hard-up.

She went in
for handsome chauffeurs.

Go on,
you're doing very well.

I hope you're not cross
with Aunt Fenny, by the way.

She was only trying to bring out
my protective instincts.

It's my fault
she said too much.

I realized that.

Why are you shivering?

Because I find it difficult
to control myself.

And you feel you must.

What do you find
difficult to control?

Your temper?

Yes.

Now I'd be glad
if you'd open the door.

If the taxi's still here,
I can go home

without putting you
to any trouble.

If not, I'm afraid
you'll have to organize one.

And you don't want
to lose that cherry?

Very well.

I like your Aunt Fenny.

She's shallow, and I bet
she was a scorcher as a girl.

Potentially,
you are worth 20 of her,

but your brains
and your toughness

aren't worth a bag of peanuts
if you lack joy.

That's what Aunt Fenny's got
and you haven't.

The place is stuffed with
people who've thought so long,

they've forgotten
how to be happy.

Or people who've spent
so long trying to be happy,

that they haven't
had time to think.

Aunt Fenny doesn't
think at all.

She wished you joy,
that's all.

And you don't want it.

She's my Aunt Fenny,
not yours.

(chuckles)

My key for your Aunt Fenny.

Catch.

For Pete's sake, Sarah Layton,

you don't know anything
about joy at all, do you?

No.

No, I don't.

(sobbing)

You're crying.

Why?

Because you really want me
to make love to you?

I couldn't promise love.

You couldn't either,
could you?

And that's not right
where you belong.

Except that you don't.

Do you pretend
because your father's away?

Pretend that you belong
for his sake?

No.

I do belong.

That's what I know.

That's the trouble.

Please take
your hand away.

You really ought to bathe
your eyes, you know.

My Aunt Fenny would think
the worst if she saw you now.

Well, then.

Shall we go,
Sarah Layton?

Is it so sad?

Sarah...

Be joyful.

(music continues)

(insects chirping)

"She is to visit Captain Merrick
in hospital.

"I wonder,
will she ask him this time

if he knew Edwina?"

(clock chimes)

Can't you sleep, either?

I was writing... letters.

Can I get you anything?

No, thank you, Barbie.

There's nothing I want.

I'm not sleepy, though.

It's rather close, isn't it?

Just a bit.

(sighs)

Perhaps you were thinking
about the news.

That's why I
couldn't sleep.

About the invasion.

No, I was thinking...

It's a long time
since I visited the grave.

My husband's grave in Ranpur.

Did I ever take you,
Barbie?

Don't go.

Stay and talk to me.

Talk?

What about?

Anything.

About when you were young.

I always enjoy that.

Do you?

Do you?

Well, I was always a bit afraid
of going upstairs to bed,

so I used to hum a song
my mother disapproved of.

* I've seen a deal of gaiety
throughout my noisy life... *

Throughout what?

Throughout my noisy life.

Oh, one of your father's
comic songs!

Yes.

He loved the music hall.

He often promised
to take me to it,

but of course he never did.

He was afraid
of what my mother would say

if she found out.

And he was always a bit short

of what he called
"the ready."

One Christmas, he lost
the presents for my stocking

on the way home.

I adored Christmas mornings.

Waking in the dark,

feeling the weight
of the stocking on my toes.

It was magic.

I remember that.

Even the quarrels in our house
had a sort of magic.

My life was never dull.

Is it dull now?

Now?

Least of all!

What do you think will happen
when the war is over?

Happen?

Well, this house is much bigger

than the grace-and-favor
bungalow.

If your stepson... if
Colonel Layton is coming home,

people are bound to think
this was his father's house.

And that the bungalow's
too small

for Mildred, Sarah,
Susan and the baby.

I know Mildred hates me

because she thinks...

(sighs)

Oh, I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

You must go to sleep.

Yes, I will now.

Thank you, Barbie.

I'll see to the other light.

Mabel?

Yes?

Who is Gillian Waller?

Gillian Waller?

Sometimes you say it
in your sleep.

Jallianwala.

Jallianwala Bagh.

It's not a person,
it's a place.

The Amritsar Massacre in 1919,

where General Dyer killed
all those unarmed Indians.

Was your husband there?

He died in 1917.

But you remember it?

Oh, yes.

£26,000 they raised for General
Dyer when they retired him.

I sent 100 to the fund
the Indians were raising

for the families of their dead.

There were more than
260 victims, you see.

And 26,000 for him.

So I thought 100 was the price
of one dead brown.

It's not you, Barbie,

and not this house.

Jallianwala Bagh...

I gave it to the Indians.

That's what she can't forgive.

A daughter of the regiment.

I'm ready for the light now.

Good night, Mabel.

(newsreel music playing)

ANNOUNCER:
India's Minister
of Information says,

"We have trapped the enemy
in the Imphal area.

He must either withdraw
or be annihilated."

These pictures
from the Assam/Burma border

take us into the hills
of Manipur,

where men of the fifth
and seventh Indian Divisions

are in action.

(cannon fire)

Japanese-held villages
are consumed by flames

as his attempt to seize
our defensive base at Imphal

is thwarted.

(flames crackling)

This is any man's country.

Large opposing forces can wander
for scores of miles

without ever meeting each other.

But when they meet,
it becomes a massacre.

Japanese corpses are strewn
thickly where they fell

after being caught
in a merciless crossfire

from infantry attacks.

They have no further interest
in Tojo's gamble.

For them, it has meant death

in a strange jungle
3,000 miles from Tokyo.

(birds chirping)

*

Memsahib, Rickshaw is here.

Thank you, Aziz.

Memsahib come home?

7:00, Aziz, or 7:30.

Certainly for dinner.

Susan.

I've told Aziz
you'll be here to lunch.

Is your mother coming
to fetch you?

From the Club.

It's so lovely here.

Bye, Barbie.

Aren't you awfully hot?

You should be in the shade.

I like the sun.

Where are you off to now?

Mr. Maybrick's.

Where?

The organist.

I told you, he wants me to stick
his volume of Bach together.

It's all in pieces.

Bach!

I'll be back to dinner.

Susan's here.

When is Sarah coming back?

Well, she only went the day
before yesterday.

She booked a sleeper
for tomorrow night.

Good-bye, Barbie.

Are you awake, Auntie Mabel?

Auntie?

I tell you, it's gone!

A double page,
the F Minor Fugue.

Here's where it should be.

Are you sure you've
looked everywhere?

What a pickle you're in.

Mr. Maybrick,
what are you standing on?

What?

(laughing)

Eureka!

Perseverance,
my father used to say.

Perseverance,
Mr. Maybrick, wins the day.

Angelic Barbie.

Ham-fisted but angelic.

What would you say
to mutton curry and rice?

I should say no.

It was planned!

Mutton curry
and rice for two.

Planned by whom?

Lovingly, by me.

You've been overdoing
the sherry.

You've not done so badly
yourself.

Two glasses are all I've had!

Refilled
between fugues.

If you stay to supper,

you could start the binding
afterwards.

I shall do no such thing.

You're becoming
a hard woman, Barbie.

(door opens)

I'm sorry.

Oh, Arthur.

Mr. Maybrick and I were just...

Forgive me, Barbie.

Mrs. Layton telephoned
from Rose Cottage.

"Stay with me and talk."

I knew.

A stroke.

Very sudden.

I think we must believe
she felt no pain.

Throughout my noisy life...

No pain at all.

(phone rings)

Rose Cottage.

Kevin Coley speaking.

Is Miss Batchelor with you?

No, she's not here.

She's not there.

I'm telephoning
from Mr. Maybrick's.

I told Miss Batchelor
of Mabel Layton's death

and suggested she should
spend the night at my house.

She was distressed, of course,
and anxious to go home at once.

Mr. Maybrick and I were trying
to persuade her.

She retired for a few moments

and now we find
she's disappeared.

Gone?

Well, frankly, Peplow,
not convenient at all.

Oh, mystery resolved.

Miss Batchelor is here.

Yes, just arriving.

Understood.

Thanks for telephoning.

Arthur Peplow
on the phone.

Seemed a bit concerned.

I told Arthur
I must get home at once.

There's so much to do.

Excuse me, Captain Coley.

Miss Batchelor...

I won't get
in anyone's way.

SUSAN:
No!

No!

BARBIE:
Is that Susan?

Dr. Travers
is with her now.

I think she may
have started.

(door opens)

If there's anything
I can do...

Thank you,
but I think we can cope.

Have you any idea where that
bloody man can have got to?

Which man, Mildred?

Aziz.

Aziz!

Aziz was here.

Well, he's not here now.

And if and when
he shows his face again,

Kevin here has promised
personally

to boot him in the rear.

But if he was worried...

I don't think you understand
Indians like Aziz at all.

I understand only too well.

I've asked Colonel Beames
to have a word with the police.

MABEL:
The police?

Whatever are you saying?

Not that there appears to be
anything noticeably missing.

Dr. Travers says
Susan has started.

He wants you to help
take her down to the car.

SUSAN:
No!

No, I don't want to go!

Terribly upset.

No one really
suspects Aziz.

It's just a precaution

till Beames is satisfied
about the cause of death.

The cause?

He wanted
a pathologist's report.

Excuse me.

Where's Mabel?

(Susan crying)

No, I don't want to go!

(sobbing)

SUSAN:
No! No!

(sobbing):
Oh, Mabel!

Mabel!

It can't have started.

The baby isn't finished yet.

Come on, Sue,
keep going.

We'll have you right
as rain, you'll see.

COLEY:
Miss Batchelor.

Miss Batchelor,
Maybrick's here.

Come to take you to the
Peplows' for the night.

Thank you, Captain Coley.

Where have they taken Mabel?

Would you mind telling me?

General Hospital.

Yes, Colonel Beames thought
it would be best.

But it's all right--
Mildred's there with Susan.

I'm sure what you need
is a good night's sleep.

Have you transport?

There's a rickshaw
at the bottom.

I left my bag
somewhere.

Oh, I...

There are some receipts
for bills I've paid.

I'll put them
in Mabel's desk.

Perhaps you'll see
that Mildred gets these.

Of course.

I'll pack some things.

We shall go straight
to the hospital.

I must pay my last respects
to Mabel, of course.

I don't think that
Captain Coley thinks...

Captain Coley
doesn't think at all.

That's God's blessing on him.

And I must speak
to Colonel Beames at once.

(door opens)

Sorry to have kept you waiting,

but I do have
my pathologist's report now.

It confirms my assumption
of cerebral haemorrhage.

Sit down.

Had she complained lately
of feeling unwell?

No.

Not complained.

I've told Mildred,
Mrs. Layton Jr.

She's here with young Susan,
as I expect you know.

I'm afraid
from what Travers says

she's in for rather
an arduous time.

Fortunately, Captain Coley

and Arthur Peplow
have undertaken

to make the arrangements
for the funeral.

There's a great deal to do.

Do you know anything of the
arrangements for transportation?

I wish to accompany,
of course.

Transportation?

The burial will be
at St. Luke's in Ranpur.

She wished to be buried
with her husband there.

Hasn't Mildred
mentioned this to you?

No.

I must see her and remind her.

Are you sure

those were the elder
Mrs. Layton's wishes?

Quite sure.

I see.

I'll mention it to her, then.

Well, I'm afraid I must
leave now for Flagstaff House.

But you can depend upon
my letting her know.

Are you accompanied?

Mr. Maybrick is with me.

Good.

Now you must try to get
a good night's rest.

This must have been a greater
shock for you than any of us.

I wish to see her,
of course.

Can I do that now?

I'm afraid not.

But if you ring
in the morning

and ask to speak
to Dr. Iyenagar,

I'm sure it could be
arranged.

Dr Iyenagar?

Or his assistant.

Extension 22.

Thank you, Colonel Beames.

Mr. Maybrick.

I brought the suitcase in.

Safer than with
the rickshaw wallah.

Why don't you go back
to the rectory bungalow?

Tell Clarissa and Arthur
I'll be there in half an hour.

Half an hour?

I'll wait.

It may be longer.

I shall ask.

Colonel Beames
will have rung.

I'm to see Dr. Iyenagar.

Will you please tell him
I'm here?

Oh, but Dr. Iyenagar has left.

Then his assistant.

Extension 22.

Colonel Beames
should have rung

before he left
for Flagstaff House.

You see, I don't remember.

It's Miss Batchelor, isn't it?

Get Dr. Lal quickly,
please.

Dr. Lal will come
to the telephone.

Tell him I'm here
in connection

with the death
of Mrs. Mabel Layton.

As arranged
by Colonel Beames.

I'm to see him
in his office.

Barbie, what on earth are
you doing, for heaven's sake?

Something I have to do.

Dr. Lal?

Yes.

I am Dr. Lal.

I was expecting to see
Dr. Iyenagar,

but I understand he's left.

Yes, I'm sorry.

Half an hour since.

Some obvious lack
of liaison upstairs.

May we proceed at once,
please?

I'm sorry,
proceed with what?

Identification.

I have to see
and identify the body

of the late Mrs. Mabel Layton.

I see.

But no one mentioned to me
this necessity.

Are you a relative?

Yes.

One moment.

Please sit.

(rumbling behind door)

Jaldi, jaldi!

(gasps)

(gasping)

Oh!

You should have waited!

It is most irregular.

Nothing is ready yet.

You come in
without permission.

It is not allowed.

And now you're
in a state.

Please, please!

You must sit somewhere
and be patient.

Why should I be blamed for this?

No one will blame you, Dr Lal.

I shall say nothing.

It would be wise of you
to say nothing, too.

I have seen all I need.

Forget I was ever here.

But Dr. Iyenagar?

He knows nothing.

She is in torment!

(buzzer)

Yes? Can I help?

Sister Page?

Sister Page is busy
for a moment.

I'm Sister Matthews.

Are you lost?

I've come to see
Mrs. Layton.

They told me downstairs
to come up to number eight.

I understood
it was a Captain Coley

with a message
from Mr. Peplow.

They got it
slightly muddled.

There is an urgent message
for Mrs. Layton,

which concerns Captain Coley
and Mr. Peplow.

Yes, I see.

I've just told Mrs. Layton
it was Captain Coley.

Well, never mind.

This way.

How is her daughter Susan?

Mrs. Bingham's just as well
as can be expected.

It's not going to be
an easy delivery, I'm afraid.

She's so tense.

Mrs. Layton's
awfully anxious, too,

trying to get through to her
other daughter in Calcutta.

But I expect
they're all out

celebrating
the Normandy invasion,

which is what I'd be doing
if we weren't short-staffed.

Your visitor, Mrs. Layton.

Come in, Kevin.

Pour yourself a drink,
it's on the dressing table.

And freshen mine,
there's an angel.

What's happening?

I got through to Calcutta,
thank God.

Sarah starts back tomorrow.

Kevin?

You bloody bitch!

Mildred, please don't!

It's not my fault that they got
the message wrong.

Do I look like Captain Coley?

You can call me
anything you like

for what you think I've done,

but you must listen to me first
or she'll never rest.

Never, never!

I've seen her, so I know.

She's in that terrible place,
in anguish

because she thinks
you've forgotten your promise

or won't abide by it.

She'll haunt me.

She'll haunt you.

All of us.

I have no idea what you mean.

What promise?

To bury Mabel
at St. Luke's in Ranpur.

What on earth
are you talking about?

It's what she wished.

She told me.

She must've told you.

St. Luke's in Ranpur?

I know absolutely nothing
about it,

and it's quite
out of the question.

If you don't want
the humiliation

of being asked to leave
by a member of the staff,

you better go.

Why is it out of the question?

There's a telephone

on that table there.

All you have to do is
to ring Arthur Peplow

and tell him.

Tell him this simple thing:

that she wished to be buried
with her husband.

Arthur and I will do everything
else that's necessary,

but that must come from you.

What you'll do is leave
this hospital at once

and stop interfering.

I find your suggestion
utterly obscene.

It's June.

Perhaps you've noticed
it's warm, even in Pankot?

I have no intention of having
my husband's stepmother

transported like a piece
of refrigerated meat.

Even if there were some
indication in her will,

I should have
to override it.

I know nothing
about her will.

But I do know about her will.

I've had a copy of it ever since
my husband went abroad.

This gruesome little convoy
you seem to think she wanted

is quite out of character.

After five years
of living with her,

I'm surprised you didn't
know her better.

On the other hand, I'm not.

You were born with a soul
of a parlor maid

and a parlor maid
is what you've remained.

India's been
very bad for you,

and Rose Cottage
a disaster.

I'd be glad if you'd
be out of there

by the end of the month.

As soon as possible, in fact.

If you've paid...

Mildred!

How dare you call me Mildred!

To you, I'm Mrs. Layton.

That's ridiculous.

It's spiteful.

Mildred is your given name--
your Christian name.

Christ!

No, please!

I'm sorry.

Sorry.

I am what you say.

But I loved her so much,

and I think God
gave me this last chance

to serve Him through her.

Please, Mildred!

She asked for so little,
but she did ask for this.

Why should I make up a story?

I'll do anything,
everything you say,

but please don't bury her
in the wrong grave!

Not that! Not that!

No! No!

Ah!

(gasping)

Now... I've told you.

I shall need a little time
to collect my things.

Good night, Mildred.

(organ music playing)

(music stops)

They've all gone now.

These are for her?

(sitar music playing)

(jazz music playing)

(sitar music playing)

WOMAN:
My dear, that was your mother.

It's bad news.

Aunt Mabel.

I'm afraid she's dead.

Miss Layton?

I'm sorry, Miss Layton,
but we're nearly there.

We're coming into Ranpur.

I'm sorry to disturb you.

Oh, no.

Thanks, Mrs. Roper.

Now, don't rush.

We just thought you'd want
plenty of time

because we only stay in Ranpur
for ten minutes.

Yes, I'll get down.

Can you manage, dear?

You've had a good long sleep.

We nodded off, too.

You've been very kind.

I'm afraid I was the most
awful nuisance to you.

Oh, my dear,
not at all.

Your uncle in Calcutta
seemed so concerned.

Letting me share your coupe.

And letting down the bunk,
as well.

Now, just leave that.

Directly we've had dinner,

Mrs. Perryman and I
are going to tuck down.

Is there anything
we can do?

You'll want some food
at the station.

No, really.

But your train for Pankot

doesn't leave till
after midnight.

Yes, I know.

I think I'll just go
and wash my face.

Yes, freshen up.

Perhaps she wants to be
on her own for a bit.

In the circumstances.

I do hope there's something
really pukka

lined up for us
in Ranpur.

Personally, I always
find trains famishing.

Tea in the dining-car
back home was best.

Those little pots of jam,
do you remember?

And teacakes.

When we first came out,

Roger's mother used
to send us Tiptree's.

They're from Fortnum's.

It's the sort of thing
that really counts.

Though in Burma, it was
marvelous what we could get

through Ramchams
in Rangoon.

I mean, Jim's special marmalade,
Bath Olivers...

(bell ringing)

I say!

Keep a look out, Dorothy!

I think we're here.

(speaking Urdu)

I've got your quli for you.

After 30 years of India,

I can always spot
the one you can trust.

Well, there's only my case.

(speaking Urdu)

Thank you.

I can see some restaurant
bearers down the platform.

I hope one's got our trays.

Bearer!

Bearer!

Good-bye, Mrs. Roper.

Thanks for everything.

Good-bye, dear.

Mrs. Perryman.

Shouldn't we find
an escort for you?

There must be at least
one officer on the platform

we could whistle up.

Really, I shall be
quite all right.

Surely you don't
usually travel alone?

Well, there's always
a first time, isn't there?

Good-bye.

Good-bye, Mrs. Roper.

Good-bye.

You know, things are
certainly changing.

Well, they are.

Bearer!

**