Original subtitles

Blackboard, I swear. You'll have his blackboard from that club, yeah.

Hi. What did I do?

Come on, Raymond. Tell me, what did I do? Oh, you see how far gone he is. He

can't remember.

I've had no more than you.

Oh, no more than us. Put together.

Hey -ho.

Hey.

Diddle -ho.

If all the world were paper, and all the sea were ink, and all the trees were

bread and cheese, what would we do for drink?

You know, you're a different man these days, Aneedan.

What does this say, Johnston?

Blow it if I can make it up.

Oh, it's from your mama, dear boy, to say.

What does she say?

Oh, that she's gone to Brighton for a few days' holiday and gives you the

address of her hotel.

Poor mother.

I know.

Brighton does the same for me.

Oh, you don't understand.

You shouldn't mock.

Listen to this, my lord.

Coming to the Pavilion Theatre in three weeks' time, Mr. Fergus Doyle's

travelling theatrical company.

Doesn't that imply something?

Actresses? There's bound to be a few fillies.

Who's the stage -dooring, then?

Not Sammy.

Ah, poor Samuel.

When I think of the pleasures you must forego, you being a married man.

Ha ha ha!

Can we go yet?

Without a piston rod.

How much longer?

Small place like Vergara. Things take time.

If we don't go through, my father is sure to find us.

He won't find the black pearl.

You seem very confident.

I am.

I think I've just been very clever.

Well?

Been sowing a few seeds.

I doubt he'll ever find us.

Can't just have vanished.

Lying low, I'd say.

Aye. But where?

Nothing from any of the agents?

No.

Notified all the small ports, too?

I've notified everybody.

He's got to stop to call up somewhere.

Why aren't we hearing anything?

If you don't stop worrying about it, you'll be drinking that stuff till you

like a cow.

Only do it to please Lettie.

Here.

Felt no pain for nigh on a fortnight.

Does that mean you'll soon be sailing again, then?

Might do.

Why?

I've been peaceful without you.

Well, you enjoy it while you can.

I won't exactly be peaceful by the time I find Seth Burgess.

It would be that the servants' quarters aren't extensive, but you will be

surprised how economical on staff such a residence can be.

One good woman and two girls, and the place will seem to run itself, I do

you. I must warn you, ma 'am, the place will need money spending on it,

replumbing at the very least. Oh, but, sir, the modest price does, of course,

reflect that we recognize that some work may be desirable. I am not sure that

Mrs. O 'Neden would consider the price all that modest.

Particularly for a mere leasehold.

Oh, sir.

Do consider the desirability of the neighbourhood.

Oh, I like it. I do.

I like it best of everything we've looked at so far.

Ideal as a family residence, no doubt. The kind of home I want the children to

have. Not some huge, homeless institution.

So long as you're sure they won't be cramped.

Well, there are six bedrooms.

Ma 'am, how many children do you have?

None yet.

But I don't envisage more than 12 or 15.

Mrs. O 'Neill is to run a home for children.

Ah.

If it's for our tender to fetch your Chilean railway you've come for, you've

hardly given us enough time.

We weren't in possession of all the figures until Wednesday. Would I press

so unreasonably?

Besides, I greatly doubt I shall find myself disposed to look elsewhere.

Ah, it may not be the lowest price.

In which case I should content myself with the knowledge that I'm also buying

the not inconsiderable bonus of forging closer ties with you.

Isn't that a mighty responsible, sir?

Coming from a man whose first duty must be to his profit and loss account.

In such a soulless fellow, perhaps, but not in any lover of great beauty.

And isn't that just as irresponsible?

Spoken to a married woman.

Sometimes I do indeed wonder how the Daniel can bear to be from your side.

He knows better than to force his presence where it isn't welcome.

And I don't thank you for requiring me to say it, so if that's all you've come

for... No, I... I came to beg a favour, but I probably thought it was any right

to ask it now.

Now you're going to make me feel churlish.

There's a case of wine at present lying in Gibraltar, which I must have in this

country by the 20th of next month.

I wondered if you had a vessel near enough to carry it for me.

A single case of wine? Port.

Well, I can recommend any number of wine merchants. Well, this happens to be

rather a special case.

I should hope so.

It's to be for somebody's birthday.

Even so, there are regular steamship runs from Gibraltar. Oh, I know, but

delicate cargo.

I wouldn't care to entrust it to just anybody.

The Mersey maiden is due through the Straits within a week. Will that do?

Oh, as long as the wine is in my hands by the 20th.

Oh, it will be.

I promise.

As a result of things we have heard, you understand, we thought it prudent to

seek an interview simply in order to ascertain the truth.

Well, you'd better tell me what you've heard.

That you intend to turn the house into a home for the children of... of loose

women.

That's right.

I knew it.

Damn it, Mum, it won't do.

What's it to do with you?

We and the...

And the others on whose behalf we speak will be your neighbours there, so surely

you do see the cause of our concern.

No. We don't relish the prospect of our neighbourhood being invaded by hordes of

those kind of women.

It won't be.

But how can you guarantee that, ma 'am? But it's not... You mean they won't

come?

Who'll bring their brats, then? Do you mean they won't visit?

The occasional visit, that's all.

Think of our wives.

And our daughters, ma 'am.

How may they walk abroad freely and without fear, knowing that this is the

of woman they may accidentally meet?

There would be no more risk of that than if they were going shopping or walking

in the park.

But this is on our own doorstep, Mrs. O 'Neill.

And I promise you, there will be no disorder in it.

No nuisance. If one of those women gets herself with child, the best thing she

can do is throw it into the murder.

If... Any woman gets herself with child, Mr. Barber.

Some man is responsible.

Perhaps you're just afraid that one of the mothers might recognize you. How

you? And how dare you come into my house and try to bully me?

We are here. Liz O 'Neill objects to our intrusion here very well.

But, ma 'am, we object to your proposed intrusion in our lives, too.

And I do not agree that there will be any.

I had so hoped to avoid further unpleasantness.

I run my business, and my wife runs hers.

Oh, come, come, I need it. You really mean to imply that you have no influence

over your wife, sir?

I didn't say that.

Then surely at least there must be some financial constraint you might apply?

Well, you see, it's her money she's using.

A woman should do as her husband tells her. You could demand that she gives up

the whole crack -brained scheme.

Suppose I could.

And will you? No.

You mean you're prepared to condone your wife's scheme, regardless of the

consequences?

Well, whether I do or whether I don't is my business. But I'll tell you this,

gentlemen.

I don't take kindly to anybody telling me what my wife shall or shall not do.

Now, good day to him.

It is done.

Here's to a thousand miles of Chilean railway.

I can freight it. I only hope you can build it.

Is partnership with you always such a teasing business?

Is that how you regard us? As a partnership?

Does the presumption offend you?

Not offend.

Not yet.

Perhaps it betrays some unconscious hope in me. Some desire for the future.

If you mean a merging of our business interests, I must tell you that I prefer

my independence.

That's not what I meant.

Now I think you are in danger of offending me.

Oh, I'm sorry. Perhaps you'd rather that I didn't come, that we did our business

by letter or through our managers.

No. But certainly my visits should remain as infrequent as business allows.

I'm tempted to say yes, but that would seem unfriendly, and I do think of you

a friend.

Why does that amuse you?

Relieves me.

Because it suggests it isn't you that I'm in danger of offending, not really

you. Only the conventions.

Which we must all live by.

What, will you rank yourself with the sheep? I think you forget how much I

to lose.

No.

But to live and risk no part of yourself might lose you so much more.

Yes? Yes, Dunwoody.

Figuera? Well, what on earth are they doing there?

How long will it take?

Three to four weeks.

Well, surely we can divert another ship.

I see.

Yes.

Thank you.

I'm still undecided whether those contraptions aren't more of an

a convenience.

Well, they certainly bring bad news all the sooner.

One of my steamships has had to dock at Figuera to have a broken propeller shaft

mended. It may take several weeks. I'm sorry. I hope it wasn't carrying

perishable.

It's carrying your wine.

Then it can't possibly be here by the 20th. Not unless I can find another

carrier.

For whom was it a present?

My father.

It's his birthday on the 20th.

A case of port.

Now, what's so important about a case of port? Look, all that matters is that

that wine gets here by the 20th and the mercy maiden is laid up in Figuera. Now,

do you have a vessel that could pick it up?

Well, haven't you?

James, would I be asking?

Why me?

I'd have thought another steam line would be more appropriate. It's the sort

favour I can just ask anyone.

And it is particularly important to me. Oh, why?

It's a present.

Oh, for?

Charles Marsden's father.

Marston. Oh, look, James, I know you and he aren't exactly on the best of terms.

But why the devil are you buying him presents?

It isn't from me, James. It's a present from Charles to his father.

Oh, it gets worse.

Why should I do Charles Marston favours? I'm asking you to do it for me.

Look, I promised to get the wine here by the 20th and I don't relish the

prospect of breaking that promise.

Well, I don't know what possessed you in the first place.

Because he's a valuable customer and I can't afford to lose.

Well, I'm expecting a cargo of tin plates for Portugal.

Could be this week, could be next.

Well, I can't wait that long.

Well, if you're prepared to pay for me to go out there in balance to... I'll

you for bringing the wine back.

What, you expect me to go all the way out there just for now? It's a favour,

James. Well, come down to expensive what you call favours.

Please. No.

When I get my cargo of tin plates, then I'll pick it up for you.

Look, wine won't spoil for the keeping.

Not the first time somebody's birthday present's been a bit late.

Well, James, I just hope that you never need a favour from me.

In view of the large amount of washing there will be, I think you should

consider building on a proper wash house at the back here.

For I doubt the old copper would prove adequate on its own.

You put me to shame, Dr. Portman. It hadn't occurred.

Well, if you and Mr. O 'Neill had... Well, that is to say, if you and Mr. O

'Neill had been blessed with children... No doubt you would have anticipated me.

Well, soon I shall have more than I know what to do with.

And I hope I'll learn.

Hello, Mrs. O 'Neill.

Hello. Oh, ma 'am.

Mrs. O 'Neill.

Good morning.

You must forgive me, ma 'am, but it appears I was somewhat precipitous in

allowing you the key.

I fear I must ask for it back and for you both to leave.

I am instructed that the sale just cannot proceed.

He's destructed. So by whom?

Lord Hawthorne, no less.

What has he to do with anything?

He owns the freehold of this house, as indeed he does the whole neighbourhood.

But we're not trying to buy the freehold.

But he does have the power to obstruct the sale of any leasehold on properties

he owns. Should he consider a particular sale undesirable?

Well, when you toast to your victory, I hope you'll always remember at whose

expense it was won.

Children.

Little children who can't help how they come into this world or who their

parents are.

I am sorry. I have tried. There just appears to be no one who can guarantee

get the wine here by the 20th. Hardly your fault.

Well, I feel as though it is.

You did, of course, know that your ship's propeller shaft would suddenly

Randy? Thank you.

Will it be a great disappointment?

Perhaps you think it petty, but we're a very close clan, we margins.

We tend to set great store by anniversaries.

Father will be 70 next month.

Thank you.

He doesn't seem petty at all.

You must meet him and mother.

Though you might not take to her, but I guarantee you'll be beguiled by him as

he will be by you, being no mean connoisseur of female beauty.

Well, no doubt the occasion will arise one day.

Is the port of vintage he particularly admired?

Oh, yes, indeed.

In 1790, for the very first time, port was shipped to this country in bottles,

not casks.

Father was fortunate enough to inherit some of those very bottles from an

uncle's cellar.

But he drank the last six years ago, and every sip was a sweet torment to him,

knowing that once that bottle was gone, he'd drunk away history.

And lying aboard your ship in Figuera is probably the most valuable case of port

wine in the world.

Does your father know?

What a lovely present.

Ah, he deserves it.

He's the sort of man who earns his son's respect rather than demands it.

I don't think my brothers or I ever even contemplated buying our father a

present. He didn't care about us and we didn't care about him.

And my son never bought Daniel any presents either.

Oh, Elizabeth, I'm sorry. I didn't think that... I'll have that wine here for

you by the 20th.

Trust me.

No plenty.

If he has the right to say who shall buy those houses, no shot. He has, I've

checked.

Well, there's little poison carrying on fighting, then. The sooner you start

looking for another house, the better. Have you any idea how many houses I've

looked at since I started?

Besides, I suppose I did find somewhere else just as good. Who's to say that all

this won't happen again?

No.

I shall write to Lord Hawthorne.

He must be told the truth.

Won't do no good.

Well, then I shall go and see him.

I must do something.

That way.

I thought being an Oneidian meant one never gave in.

At least, that's what you've always told me.

It's no good.

Still waiting for me cargo of tin plate.

I think I'm going to change your mind for you, James.

Not unless you're prepared to pay for me to go out and ballast you, not? I've

just received a cable from one of my masters in Figuera to say that the

maiden has had to dock alongside another steamship, also undergoing repairs, and

the name of this other steamship.

is the black pearl.

You wouldn't try to trick me now, would you?

Would I be so foolish?

Yeah, eh?

Of course, you do realise that it will cost me money to go out there and

ballast. And do you realise that if it weren't for me, you might never have

found that? All right, all right.

I'll go out there, pick up your wine. And have it back here by the 20th? Aye,

aye.

I'm grateful.

I know Charles will be.

You're not getting too tangled up with that Charles Marsden, are you?

Whatever you have against him, James, is your affair.

I value his friendship.

Ah. But is it safe?

Safe?

What does that word imply?

Well, now, if your husband weren't in London and looked like staying there.

Don't interfere, James.

I'm only thinking of you.

No, tell him, Doctor. Surely he can't be ready to sail yet.

It is not an easy judgment.

You've prodded and poked me hard enough.

It is sooner than I would honestly recommend.

But you are adamant that there's been no more pay.

I have been saying that for the past two weeks. So if it is genuinely important

for you to go... Thank you, Doctor.

Why is it so important? Well, for more reasons than I can tell you now.

Luke, will you give that to Dawkins, please?

It's addressed to Viscount Marsden. Tell him that when he gets a cable from me,

to give that to Marsden personally.

James, what are you up to?

I just want to do someone a favour.

In fact, this trip, if everything goes well, will be doing just about everyone

favour.

I can tell from your face how much you've missed it.

You look like someone who's just been released from prison.

What's this important cargo waiting for us in Vergara, then? A case of portois.

Are you allowed?

You're the doctor on board this ship, Captain.

I'm not sure why I should be glad to have you breathing down my neck again,

I suppose I better say it.

Welcome back.

You fell ahead.

How long do you reckon it'll take us to get there?

Oh, we'll be back long before the 20th, don't you worry. That's not what I

asked. Well, if this weather holds, six days, seven?

You get by.

Oh, wine won't go off just at the sight of a day.

I want to make sure I get there in time to pick up a passenger.

Passenger?

Come on, important, isn't it?

My daughter?

Your brother?

Well, I must thank you for that. He certainly wouldn't have done such a

for me.

The only favor my brother is doing anyone is for himself.

Even so.

May I take you out to supper?

I think not.

Thank you.

Good night.

That's a valuable instrument. What the devil do you think he's doing with that?

What does it look like?

You teach him, aren't you, sir?

I? Learns damn fast, too. He's the brightest lad I've known in years.

Dear madam, I hope you will believe that I understand the sincerity of your good

intentions. But you in turn must understand that my own responsibilities

me little discretion in this matter.

Inappropriately placed, concerned for my tenant's peace of mind, must, with

regret, reaffirm my earlier decision.

Hawkmore.

It came this morning.

Rather as I feared it would be.

I had hoped for better.

I think if I were to go and see him... I'm afraid this is one battle we must

reconcile ourselves to, Lucy.

That's just what James said.

I do believe that one of the reasons he was so keen to go on this trip is that

he wouldn't have to concern himself over all this.

Just when I need all the help I can get, he decides...

Here, you've got not what to do.

Oh, darling.

What the devil is this?

I lent it to him. Oh?

Well, if the lad wants to learn.

All right, then.

I know the tooth, Blackwood. It's already.

Oh, dear me.

Right.

Would you fly when you want to call a pilot?

Nonsense.

Just shove a pilot jack on your forehead, that's all.

He's right, though. Born come, shove a pilot jack on your forehead. That's all

you need.

Only if you're in home waters. I mean, you go into Maccabar or Mockajuba, they

likely wouldn't know what a pilot jack is. You go into Maccabar or Mockajuba,

and they likely wouldn't know what a pilot is. A pilot jack went out years

Luke, I've been sailing now for nearly 30 years. Only half as long as me.

Doesn't mean to say that you know everything, you know.

Oh, the number of times you've accused me of being old -fashioned.

You've undangled signals for more trouble than there were.

I suppose you'd like to go back to wasting sales up there. Look, half the

nonsense in here wouldn't be necessary if you knew how to sail aboard.

You tell that to the folks whose lives it saves.

All I'm saying is to the last...

Hello? Who is calling, please?

The Viscount Marston.

Would you please tell your master that Lady Fogarty is not at home?

Idle idiot.

I want it just here. Come on, over here.

That's right. Nice and gentle.

Mr.

Barty. I know.

Say, yesterday morning, Mr. Dryad, just one day. I know. I spoke to Captain

Clegg, master of your sister's steamer. Ah, damn fool. He could have done

something to delay them. How?

I don't know.

Fouls up his screws or something. He could have done something.

Anyway, I know where he's bound. Aye, so do I.

Madeira. Aye.

So everybody tells me.

All right, then. That's where we go. Madeira.

We'll catch him there.

I thought that wine had to be in Liverpool by the 20th. Luke.

I'm one day behind Seth Burgess. Now I'm not coming that close just to sail home

again. Your cable's on its way to Mr. Dobbins, Governor.

Madeira.

I suppose there's one thing to be said to it, yes.

Not quite so smelly.

Did Figueroa smell?

I didn't notice.

Yes, it did.

Well, I'm sorry you didn't like it.

But you'll find in these hot places, they do smell.

Well, not if they're civilized.

I'm afraid you'll have to teach your nose to be less sensitive, my dear.

Because we go where the cargos are.

Civilized or no.

Father rarely sets foot outside his chambers nowadays.

Not unless it's to go to the club, thank you.

So I hope you won't take it as a slight, my coming in place of him.

No, I think I'm rather relieved, actually.

Your father's always given me very good advice, but he usually manages to

include a lecture on some worthy matter, such as thrift or the Christian duty of

the strong to provide employment for the weak.

Knowing him, he probably includes it in his fees.

I take it you know my position?

I think so.

It's quite simple.

Charlotte has left me.

I'm sorry.

Oh, no, don't be. On the contrary. I realise now what a blessing it is.

It isn't everyone who's given the opportunity to start again.

So now I just want to be rid of her legally.

Divorced.

Well, happily, that's not as difficult as it used to be.

I don't care what it costs.

What were the circumstances of her leaving?

She went off with the captain of a steam tramp.

When you say went off, what exactly do you mean?

Well, what do you think?

Where is she living now?

On his ship.

So they are living as man and wife?

I presume so.

Presume? Well, isn't it obvious?

I'm afraid not in the eyes of the law it isn't.

Where exactly is this ship?

God knows.

So, in fact, you have no actual proof of any infidelity, nor any likelihood of

obtaining it. She left me to go off with him, and now she's living with him.

What more do you need?

Someone who's prepared to swear on oath.

But they have spent the night together in the same room.

Dammit, I thought you said divorce was easier.

Surely there must be other ways.

Only one.

And that could play a part for seven years.

Seven years? During which time you have to be very careful of your own

behaviour. No indiscretions.

Please don't be alarmed.

You mustn't blame your servants.

I'm afraid I used a deceit to be admitted.

Your powers of persuasion must be remarkable.

They're under instructions not to admit you at all.

Why?

What have I done?

You're out to me on the telephone, you never answer my notes, yet I thought we

were friends.

You have caused me more doubt and confusion than I could ever consider

charitable in a friend.

If that's so, it distresses me, and I must help you resolve it. Your very

presence can only help to aggravate it.

No, I take a different view.

I believe your difficulty lies not with me, but inside yourself.

It's what you want of me.

And what you want of yourself.

Yes.

Yes. Oh, it isn't something I find easy to confront. Elizabeth, you're an

honorable woman, a married woman, married to a very important man.

I wouldn't trespass on your honor lightly.

If only you had.

We could have had our pleasure and been ourselves again.

No, I... I worship you.

I've never known such pain of longing, such ache of loving.

And we're a match in all things.

I know that.

Oh, God, help me. Do you think I don't know that?

Do a patch at C -Room, will you, Banks?

I can see her.

Bring her round the point, mister.

She's drawing a signal, Gus.

Ah.

Now, there's a good example of what I meant.

What does J over D signify?

J over D is standing in the danger.

Wish they knew their quarter singlers as well as you.

Dumb fools, we're not standing in any danger. But it's not J over D, Governor,

it's P over D.

Nonsense.

He's on positive.

And that means that they need medical assistance.

I know what it means.

Looks like they lost their minds, I don't know.

Damn fools are still standing on.

Tell this lad what signals they're applying.

Be over, Dean.

They're in need of medical help, urgent.

I knew I was right.

Now listen here, Baines. If I don't get to Madeira in time to catch Seth

Burgess... They're applying that signal because they mean it. Unlike some people

I know.

That was different.

Well, that's a maybe.

But I'm master of this ship, and nobody in need of help gets ignored.

I wasn't saying ignore them.

My mistake.

Helmsman!

Bring her out!

All right, lads. Get ready to take off some cameras.

What's the trouble, then?

Captain Mangle has landed in the wind.

He's got gangrene.

You'll have to take it off, then.

He needs a surgeon.

We've got no morphine.

Gale blew out the mainsail.

Found him eight -fourth before us.

We're not stopping until we get to Madeira.

Take him with us.

All right, we'll take him on board.

Tom, go and get a bunk made up in the spare cabin.

If he lives, we'll leave him in Medea.

Well, I think we've wasted enough time now, don't you, Payne?

Who's going to do it, then?

You were the one that insisted on taking him on board.

So you can take the time.

I'll sail the ship.

You still want to be a master?

All right.

All right, darling.

When you've cleared up here, I want you to stay and keep an eye on him. From the

smell of him, I should say his crew must have filled him up with brandy. Now, if

so, that morphine will make him vomit. Now, if he does, get him over on his

quick, because I don't want him choking.

All right?

and there was I schooling myself to be patient for this evening.

I received this morning a letter from your brother, delivered personally by

chief clerk, Dawkins.

I should like to read it to you.

Dear Marsden, knowing how much you value a certain case of port wine, I should

be obliged, if by whatever means necessary, you would persuade Lord

who is, as I have discovered, a friend of yours, to sell to my wife the lease

the property she wishes to buy.

If, by the time that we dock, this has not been accomplished, I greatly fear

scenes reminiscent of the Boston Tea Party.

I am sure Elizabeth will explain.

Yours are needed.

How could he?

Oh, how could he?

How easy is that? Enough.

Not too good.

Maybe you're right.

or do we get our own vehicles?

We've got trouble with Gangerine and his arm.

Bad? Will be by the time we get to Madeira.

Well, it'll just have to take the chances.

I can't wait today taking him at the port.

Look, I shall lose Seth Burgess for sure. Now, you must see that.

Oh, I do.

I'm not sure whether he will go back there.

By Count Marston. Mrs. O 'Neden.

To what do I owe this honour?

I understand from Lady Fogarty, ma 'am, that you have plans to open a home for

children.

Hey, Count, we got any more?

Nope.

Now what?

Well, it's no good. He's spreading out his arm.

Then you'll have to take his arm off.

I could, but it might kill him.

And so might you, especially as we're running out of morphine. Now, listen,

Baines. If I didn't catch up with Burgess and Madeira, then I've lost him.

Now, he could make for either cape, and I'd never find him.

The trouble is, that man will be dead before we reach Madeira.

It's your decision, sir.

You live to make a living.

Just a bit.

Oh, well, then we'd better turn back.

I'm done with it.

I got no more pink up.

Who need him?

You're on one of my ships.

Taking it to Lisbon.

Get you to a surgeon.

Lisbon? I thought we'd taken Captain Burgess to Madeira.

Well... Burgess.

You weren't never going to Madeira.

It was just a story put about.

Where is he headed?

Into the Mediterranean.

How do you know?

I was drinking with him in Figuera all

one night.

I've never met a man in this culture that could keep a secret.

Save the wasted journey.

Burgess isn't making for Madeira.

He's headed for the Mediterranean.

Now, as soon as we get that gentleman ashore, you should be able to get us

to Liverpool by the 20th, shouldn't you?

Aye.

You know, I reckon your Tom deserves so much for spotting that signal.

Bright lad he is.

How half a mind to make him an apprentice.

Oh, beggin' your pardon, Zubin.

I taught that lad everything he knows. Now, if anyone's going to buy him his

intentions, it'll be me.

I must pay you too much.

Hey.

Now, that's what I call a welcome home. Oh, James, such news.

I've been longing to tell you.

And to buy that house, after all.

Lord Hawthorne has changed his mind.

Has he, by any chance? Well, I don't know why, except I've got a suspicion

something to do with that Viscount Marsden.

Well, he called to see me one day, and all he wanted to talk about was my

children's home.

Another rich man trying to buy himself a seat in heaven.

Well, that's not fair, James.

I liked him, and if it is him I'm indebted to, well, I hope you'll be

him in future.

Well, I will if he'll let me.

Would you like to hear my news?

Oh, I'm sorry, babbling on.

Well, well, was it a successful trip?

I've had word about the Black Pearl.

I see.

Well, then you look. Won't be long now before we have Charlotte back where she

belongs.

Wonderful.

Wonderful.

Hooray.

Now, have another. Everybody, everybody have another.

The night's not over yet.

You're beautiful.

Oh, I think you're beautiful.