Original subtitles

- "The Battle of the Sexes."

- Remind me again, what’s occurring?

- Former U.S. tennis champion, Noah Renard,

has accepted a challenge laid down

by the York Tennis Club for an exhibition match

with Sylvia Dodson, the lady’s club champion.

Hardly a fair match.

- And why is that? - Well, for one,

he’s a man and she’s a woman.

- She’s also ten years younger and fit as a fiddle

while he hasn’t played competitive tennis in years.

In fact, he spent the last three days

carousing around Toronto.

- Still, my money’s on him.

Care to take the wager, ladies?

- Oh, well, you won’t catch me gambling, Thomas.

- Well, I heard if Miss Dodson wins,

the club takes in 60 % of the gate.

- And if she loses? - The club gets 40,

but if Miss Dodson forfeits,

then Mr. Renard gets the entire gate.

So put me down for five on Dodson.

- Ah, Jeptha!

- Ladies.

I hope you’ve got my money ready.

- What an insufferable man.

I sure do hope Miss Dodson gives him a run for his money.

- Indeed.

That Mr. Renard is quite a character.

Miss Hart was telling me that if the match is forfeited,

then Mr. Renard gets to receive the gate.

- He insisted. - He claims it’s to cover

his own expenses for his own protection.

Well, heaven willing, everything goes as planned.

You see, the club’s introduced this new bursary program

for youngsters who couldn’t otherwise get to play and it’s--

Frankly, I think we’re going to go broke!

However, it will draw new money into our coffers

and introduce new members.

- If it were up to me, we wouldn’t be having

this event at all! I find it all a bit unseemly.

I’m afraid my wife has it in for Miss Dodson.

I do not have it in for Miss Dodson at all.

I just think she sets a bad example for the members,

especially the women.

She’s always opposed to something or other.

- Such as?

Well, we follow the Wimbledon dress rules

and Miss Dodson seems to think

that the outfits are quite restrictive.

She actually wants to raise the skirt

and shorten the sleeve, if you can believe that.

Let’s go have a look at our challenger.

She is rallying with our gentlemen’s champion,

Mr. Nicholas Moore, right now.

- Ah. Game to Miss Dodson.

Miss Dodson leads two games to one, first set.

- I guess I’ll be making that bet after all.

Oh, oh! Ah, ah!

Oh! My ankle, my ankle! Let me take a look.

- Oh, no, no, no. - Don’t touch it, please!

- I have to get the shoe off. - Don’t worry.

She knows what she’s doing. She’s a professional.

I don’t think you’ll be playing tennis any time soon.

Your ankle is broken.

- What a shame.

Easiest money we ever made.

- Despicable.

- We need to get her inside. - Yes, of course.

Look, dear, if you’ll just--

- Oh, yes. You play well-- - Mm-hmm.

- You’ll win the game.

- I don’t understand it. I bought these shoes

only last week. They were expensive.

- I’m afraid this has been tampered with.

- What on earth do you mean?

- Would anyone care for some tea?

- Don’t interrupt. We are trying to have a conversation.

- Oh, I would like some. Hm. Lily.

So she has you serving tea now

and tending to the equipment room?

- Yes, ma’am.

- No need to call me ma’am. Violet will do.

- What do you mean "tampered with"?

- The sole has been sawn off and lightly glued back on.

It was only a matter of time before it broke on you.

That happening, there’s a strong likelihood

that you would hurt yourself.

- Thank you, Margaret.

As I was saying,

this is not down to some manufacturing defect.

I think someone tampered with it.

- Should’ve known. - Known what?

- I found this in my locker yesterday.

- Oh.

Oh.

- "You will regret it if you play this match.

Withdraw now before it is too late."

And you chose not to take this seriously?

- I just thought it a crank.

It is certainly not the first threat I have ever received.

The world is filled with men who believe that woman

should do nothing more than bake cakes and birth babies.

- Hm.

- Plenty of women, too.

- This is outrageous!

Just give me my money

so I can get out of this godforsaken town.

- I will not.

- What’s going on, gentlemen?

- This man is welshing on a deal. I was promised--

- I know what you were promised.

- And now he is reneging.

- Our arrangement did not specify the contestant

had to be Miss Dodson.

She happens to be our best player,

but I know we have other good women players in this club.

One of them is going to step in.

Are you agreeable to this?

- I will beat whatever woman you put in front of me.

- Ooh, hey! What’s your hurry?

Wait, wait, wait, wait.

What’s happened to you, young man?

- N-nothing, sir. - I-I tripped is all.

- I-I think we should get that looked at. Come with me.

- No, sir. Really. I’m all right.

- Why don’t I believe you? What’s your name?

- Percy, sir. Percy McConnell.

- Is that your school?

Yes, sir. But please don’t tell my headmaster.

I’ll be in big trouble!

- What have you done?

- I owed some lads some money

and I couldn’t pay it back right away.

So they punished me. - What lads?

- I can’t say, sir. - I’ll get beaten worse

if they find out I ratted on them.

- Oh, wait, wait, wait.

Y-you say that you owed them money.

For what? A tuck shop bill?

- No, sir. I placed some bets.

- Gambling.

- Yes, sir.

- And these were boys at your school?

- Yes, sir. Do you know it?

- Yes. My son, Harry, is a boarder there.

You’re coming with me.

- Well, you look splendid.

- Oh, where can I get something like this for myself?

- You cannot be serious.

- I am indeed.

Miss Delange is an excellent player.

But even if she loses the match,

the club would still get a-a portion of the gate money.

It’ll be sufficient to tide us over.

She is not a good representation of our club.

She looks a good representation to me.

I am afraid that my wife does not approve of her attire.

- Short skirt, short sleeves,

a sash instead of a hat. You can’t be serious.

- All of that may be true,

but we need this match to go on.

- What do you say, Thomas? - Oh, I would be more than happy

to watch her play. Besides, my wife and I

have only just joined the club.

Wouldn’t want to see it go belly up now, would we?

Miss Delange.

- I cannot believe you-- - Shh.

And you’re sure you don’t know this lad,

Percy McConnell?

There are a lot of boys who attend the same school as I do.

- He said he’d gotten tangled up in this gambling ring

and when he couldn’t pay his debts, he was beaten.

- It’s quite a story. - Well, I believe it to be true.

- It’s a big school. - I don’t know all that goes on.

- And you’re sure you’ve heard

nothing about this gambling ring?

- No, but I do know about this.

This is my latest report card.

- These are excellent grades, Harry.

- I haven’t been wasting my time,

no matter what you might think.

- No, I-I don’t believe that...

You got an A-plus in general mathematics?

- I’d say I inherited that from my father.

Well, this is cause for a little celebration.

Are you hungry? - Always.

I know a place where we can get delicious, hot pies.

Pizza pies, I believe they call them.

- Ah, Watts. Where’s Murdoch? Is he in his office.

- Mm, he said he’ll be in later today.

Apparently, he ate something last night

that disagreed with him. - Ah. Well, in that case,

when you’re finished stuffing your face, you’re with me.

- Ah, here we are.

The corridors of power,

where the elite play games while the honest workers toil.

- Oh, knock it off, Watts. - It’s hardly elite. I’m a member.

- Mm. Touché. - Ah! There she is.

Miss Delange.

- Thank you for coming. - Oh, of course.

This is Detective Llewellyn Watts.

- Charmed.

You said you received a threat. Could I see it?

Ah, thank you.

"If you play in this match, you will regret it.

You have been warned." - Mm.

- Similar handwriting to the other one.

- Other one? - Previous player, now injured,

received a similar threat. I can assure you

that if you feel in any way uneasy about playing--

- Hm. Surely you don’t think a childish prank like this

- will deter me. - Still, Detective Watts

will be at your side at all times.

Consider him your personal bodyguard.

- Lucky day for me, it appears.

Now, if you’ll excuse me,

I need to get into my togs.

It’s always fun to create a little scandal.

My god, Watts, there goes a woman with spunk.

- All right. Get your tongue back in your mouth.

- Mm-hmm. And...

You’ll never beat me with power alone, Miss Delange.

Get me on the run.

That’s it. Very good.

- She has some talent.

- And you are?

Noah Renard, U.S. tennis champion 1903-1906.

Surely you remember. - I do not.

- Aha! Ah! - Oh! Miss Delange?

- My hands. They’re burning up!

- Has this happened before? - No!

- She’s got some talent, but no grit.

- You stay right here. I’ll go get Miss Hart.

It appears that you’ve received second-degree burns.

Have you come into contact with anything unusual?

- No. Just my racket.

- I mean, I was rallying with Mr. Moore

and my hands just started getting hotter and hotter

until it was unbearable.

- Well, I’ll need to take that. - Detective, can you bundle it up?

- Mm. Of course. - But I’m supposed to play!

- Oh, you won’t be playing tennis anytime soon.

- What’s going on?

- It appears someone tampered with her racket.

- I’ll see if I can identify what caused the burns.

- Was anyone around when it happened?

Ah, just the man she was practising with

and the man she was supposed to be playing against.

- Noah Renard? - Yes, along with his entourage.

- How convenient. - Mm.

- We’ll check on you in a little while.

- Can the detective stay?

- Well, Miss Delange won’t be playing tennis

anytime soon, I’m afraid.

Thank heavens for small mercies.

- Why do you say that? - She is simply not

the right representation for our club.

- Well, we need someone,

or we’re not going to have a club.

- It’s that serious? - Yes.

If Mr. Renard walks away with the entire gate,

we are going to lose this place.

And there’s a shark circling the waters.

- Who?

- That’s Oscar Lubbock. - He’s part owner of this place,

but he wants to own it outright.

And there is no will on the part of my wife or myself

to sell our share.

However, there are some debts we have incurred.

- So you think he’s counting on this Battle of the Sexes

- being a total failure. - This is valuable land.

He wants to tear this place down.

He could build ten homes on the land.

- Ten homes!

- Let’s have a word.

Ah, I knew in my bones no good would come of this.

Women can’t take the pressure the way we men can.

They crumble.

Doesn’t help when they’re being sabotaged.

- What are you talking about? - The police seem to believe

that somebody was deliberately targeting the women.

- Why on Earth would anybody do that?

- To ensure Mr. Renard victory.

- My victory was already certain by my mere presence.

- Well,

you best find another champion, Mr. Pearson.

Or forfeit the gate.

- And you buy the club.

We should have Murdoch do this.

- No need. - I’m more than capable.

- So, what do you know?

- Strings have been damaged by a heavy soaking

of potassium hydroxide, which dissolved the sheep gut.

It is also all over the handle,

so when Blanche held the racket, it burned her fingers.

It’s highly acidic.

I-Is this lye we’re talking about?

- Uh, correct. - Very common, easily obtainable

cleaning product. - Hm.

- An accident? - Hardly.

No one would be cleaning their racket

with a lye solution.

- Right, Watts, come on. Let’s get a move on.

Good day, Miss Hart. - Uh, I’d like to see

if I can track down the origin of the stationery

that was used for the letters.

- That’s a good idea. - Shouldn’t be too difficult.

There can’t be that many shops that sell it.

- Given what’s happened, do you think the match

should be cancelled? - Maybe.

But Margaret would be heartbroken.

She’s convinced the ladies’ side will be victorious.

Miss Hart, you wanted to see me?

- I did.

- A new hobby?

- I heard you rehired Jack Pritchett.

- I did.

- Fire him.

- He’s done his time.

- He burned down a man’s shop.

- But a man who did not pay for our services.

- Then we withhold them. That’s it.

We do not attack members of our community.

- Of course.

- Your notes on the Glover case.

They did help to secure his conviction.

- Very good.

- Oh, I don’t need a tip. Thank you.

- I beg your pardon?

- Ah, I was-- - Oh!

- Is something troubling you? - No.

Yes.

- May I? - Of course.

Harry stayed at my home last night.

- Oh. That must have been nice, hmm?

- Yes. Yes.

But when he left in the morning, I found this.

- Good Lord!

It’s close to five dollars. That’s quite a sum.

H-How did he get it?

- I’ve heard reports that there may be

some gambling going on at the school.

- And Harry’s involved? - Well, I don’t know.

And I don’t want to confront him

unless I-I’m certain, which I am not.

- There are stiff penalties associated with gambling.

- I’m aware of that.

- Leave it to me.

I’ll make sure he’s aware of it, as well.

- Can you delay the tournament? - No.

- If you can get someone to play the match,

will you be able to save the club?

- I’m not much for specific numbers. Pippa?

- Well, I have been reviewing them all, actually,

and if we take 40% of the gate,

we can help stave off Mr. Lubbock

and keep him from buying the club outright.

- Could I see those figures?

Well, since there are currently no bodies to guard,

I’ll make my way back to the station house.

- Considering how much Margaret loves this club,

I’d hate to see it go under. - Then what about your wife?

- Margaret? No, no, no, no, no.

I wouldn’t want to see her embarrass herself.

Who’s the next best female player around here?

- Her.

- Coroner. - Thank you.

- Oh, I-I don’t think so.

I’m sure Miss Hart is a very honourable person,

but she just is not the right--

- What are you trying to say? - I wo--

- Pippa, Pippa. - She might be our only hope.

- I have a question. - Of course.

- How did you become a lady lawyer?

Shouldn’t you be at home raising children?

- If I was, they would be better-behaved than you.

As I was saying,

there are stiff penalties involved with illegal gambling.

What does that have to do with us?

- Well, I’ve heard reports that a young man

at this very school was assaulted

for not having paid his gambling debts.

And I am here to tell you that if this persists,

I will be getting the constabulary to investigate,

and you will get to see this lady lawyer in action.

Hm. Can’t wait.

- Good day.

So, which one of us has a father in the constabulary?

- Me? I can’t beat--

- It’s not like you to shirk a challenge, Miss Hart.

- This is true. - Excuse me!

Sorry for speaking,

but you can do it, Miss Hart.

- See? You don’t have to win, just try your best.

- Hm. - Is this the next lamb

for the slaughter?

Expected better of this club.

Looks like you’ll be getting your wish, Mr. Lubbock.

Do you still plan on expanding?

- I plan on tearing it down.

- All right. I’ll do it.

- That a girl.

- You’ve been suspended.

- I didn’t do anything.

- You call this nothing?

- None of those are mine.

- These were found in your locker.

I didn’t send you to that school so that you could waste time

playing cards and gambling.

- Someone put them there.

You told me you had nothing to do with this gambling ring.

- I don’t.

I found this in your belongings.

- You were looking through my stuff?

- It fell out of your clothing while I was putting it away.

Did someone plant this, as well?

- I did place a bet. It-it won.

It was just a lark, a one-time thing.

- Well, this one-time thing

has landed you with your father for one week

where we will be improving on your studies.

- Oh! She’s quite good.

- Well, perhaps she’ll give that blowhard Renard

a good showing. Oh, speak of the devil.

So, you think third time’s the charm.

- Excellent shot, Miss Hart.

- Mind if I see what she’s got?

- Not at all. - Mind?

- You ready? - Give me your best shot.

I’ve never seen a serve like that.

- Overhanded. - It’s his signature move.

May want to work on her service returns.

- Oh. Excuse me.

It-it’s fine. It’s all right. It’s all right. It’s fine.

- Would you accompany me to the station house?

- What?

- Okay. So, when it comes... whack.

I’m afraid it is not a request. Madam.

- Uh, what is the meaning of this?

- I, uh-- Jeptha!

Oh, apologies, but your wife is under arrest.

- I mean, I never!

- Arrest? - Oh, that is impossible!

My wife has done nothing wrong! - We’ll handle this.

As you can see, Mrs. Pearson,

the stationery on which these letters were written

is quite exclusive.

Made in England by J.Y. Sanders,

it is sold here by a shop on King Street, Layton’s.

Do you know it? - Possibly.

But I know a lot of shops on King Street.

- Well, you have an account with Layton’s

and the proprietor distinctly remembers selling you a box

of J.Y. Sanders notepaper.

- That is not a crime, surely?

What is the nature of this arrest?

- Uttering threats is one count.

- The other is common assault.

- I did not lay a hand on those women.

- But you did write these letters?

- I did! - Why?

- They were breaking the rules,

they were dressing inappropriately.

Had they participated in that match,

the eyes of the world would have been upon us and them.

We have been in operation for 30 years,

and we have a certain standard to maintain!

In this letter addressed to Miss Dodson,

you said, "You will regret it if you play this match."

Same thing in this letter to Miss Delange.

"If you play in this match, you will regret it."

What did you mean?

- I simply didn’t want them

to be able to renew their memberships.

- Is that it?

- Upon my honour,

I did not touch either of those women.

Thirty-love. May I go?

Well, what are you going to teach me today? Police work?

- Hardly. I got these from your headmaster,

and I’ve taken the liberty of putting together this test.

I won’t have you falling behind on your studies.

- I thank you for your leniency, Thomas.

I assure you my wife will be no trouble in the future.

- Think nothing of it, Jeptha.

- All right, get ready, Miss Hart! Serve’s up.

- I told you he favours the left!

- I know, but he’s too strong.

- To the left!

To the left! To the left!

Take a five-minute break.

- Get a chair, get a chair.

- You can do it.

Thanks, Lily, but I don’t think so.

- As long as you play, you save the club.

- I don’t like losing.

- Sometimes the joy is found simply in the playing.

- Do you play?

- I do.

But my opponent is only the back wall of the club.

- Oh.

I’m guessing she doesn’t have much of a chance.

- I’m afraid not.

She’s a decent enough player when she gets going.

But when Mr. Renard played professionally,

he was known as Noah Ace.

- He won almost all his matches on service alone.

If Miss Hart can’t handle the serve, then...

- But if she could?

Have the germ of an idea.

- Good.

- So we’re finished for the day?

- Not quite.

You’ll be writing a 500-word essay

on the trials and tribulations of Sir Guyon,

the Knight of Temperance.

- I don’t know why we have to study all this

old-timey stuff. What does it have to do

- with the present day? - It will help you to pass

English class in the present day.

I’d rather just stick to the sciences. They make sense.

- Well, I can’t say I disagree.

- Hope I’m not interrupting.

- Not at all. We’re just about to take a break.

- Wonderful. - Actually, Watts--

- Violet Hart has entered the Battle of the Sexes.

- The Battle of--? - Ah, it’s a tennis competition.

- Oh. I see. - Miss Hart is good,

but she’s struggling to return faster serves

and Mr. Moore, her practise partner,

is nothing compared to the man she’ll face in the match.

- She needs to work on her timing.

- Timing?

If she can anticipate the speed at which the ball

will travel to her, then she can return...

any serve.

- How does she do that?

- Practise. - Well, she’s worn out

Mr. Moore. Is there another way?

- You say you prefer the sciences?

- I do.

- Come with me.

All right, add another one here.

- Good. - What are we doing, anyway?

- Giving Miss Hart a practice partner

that won’t tire out.

That should do it.

- That was your brilliant idea?

It’s all rigged up.

All right, get ready to send one my direction.

Uh, excuse us.

Hm. Uh. Uh, we-we may need to reduce the tension a bit,

the red knob on the side.

All right.

Um, maybe, uh, ten percent more.

Fire.

Again.

All right. That should work.

Let’s set this up for Miss Hart.

- Do I get a try?

- Not until you’ve written your essay.

Are you ready, Miss Hart?

- Yes.

Uh...

- Try another.

You’re swinging too late!

Try to track the ball.

Very good.

- Oh! - Huh.

Better.

Excellent work, Miss Hart.

- Oh, thank you, Detective.

Oh, I have every confidence you will win.

- I hope so. Let’s go. - Hm. Good night.

- Ah...

- Ah, that machine was incredible!

You were amazing today.

- Well, thank you, Margaret.

But I still don’t think I can win.

- Well, a respectable showing is good enough,

both for the club and for womankind.

- Well, I’m not sure I feel comfortable

- representing womankind. - Then represent yourself.

You stay in the match, you save the club.

I’ll see you in the morning. Hm.

Violet, look out!

Violet, are you all right?

- No. I can’t move my arm.

Well, I won’t be playing. My shoulder’s dislocated.

- And you didn’t see who was driving?

- Headlights were in my eyes.

- All happened so fast.

- Is it possible that this was just an accident?

Sheer careless driving?

- Not a chance, Detective.

- All right. - Well, do you recall anything

about the automobile itself?

- Oh. Wait, it was black. - Anything else?

- I believe it hit something as it drove by.

That’s right!

- What’s wrong with you? Stop dragging your feet!

- I’m not. - Aye-aye. What do we have here?

- Good day, Constable.

I demand you place this young man under arrest.

I also retrieved these.

- Right. Why not simply send a constable?

I wanted to show him what a lady lawyer could do.

- Can I go home?

- That will be up to Crown Attorney Newsome to decide.

- You are facing serious charges.

- My uncle’ll pay the fines. - That doesn’t matter.

You may still be looking at jail time.

- Jail? It’s just a bit of fun.

Gambling is an illegal activity.

- What’s this? - It’s a bet.

- I’m aware of that.

What student can afford to bet 20 dollars

on the outcome of a tennis game?

Twenty dollars that the match will be forfeit?

- No lady will make it through.

They’ll quit before it’s even over.

- What makes you say that?

- My uncle believed it.

And he’s the one who made that bet.

- Who’s your uncle? - Oscar Lubbock.

And he’s the one who convinced me to do this.

- Well, we will be having a word with him.

- You will be writing out a detailed statement

of all the people involved in this little gambling ring.

Understood?

- You can write, can’t you?

- I have one more question.

Did you put cards and betting slips

in my son’s locker?

- I did. - Why?

- I thought he was the one who spilled the beans

about the gambling in the first place.

I wanted to shut him up. - Shut him up?

- Yeah. He’s always bragging about how great you are.

"My father did this. My father did that."

I’m sick of it.

- Excuse me.

- Five hundred words on the tribulations

of Sir Guyon.

- Harry. I’m so sorry.

- It’s all right. The verse wasn’t that bad, actually.

- No, I-I mean I’m sorry for not believing you.

Ah, Eamon Mosley just confessed to putting cards

and betting slips in your locker.

You’ll be back at school tomorrow.

- And what happens to Eamon?

- I suspect he’ll be expelled.

Again, I’m sorry.

- Ah, it’s all right. You’re a copper.

Makes you a suspicious sort.

- Thomas, I am speaking for womanki--

- Margaret, shh. Listen.

- She’s actually quite good!

- Surprisingly.

- What did I tell you?

The weaker sex has no place in the sporting world.

- Especially when someone is trying to attack them.

- Attack?

This is nothing more than a series of accidents.

- Look at him wandering around like he already owns the place.

- Why not? He likely soon will.

Begging your pardon, Chief Constable Brackenreid.

- Yes? - There’s a telephone call

- for you. - Oh. Thank you.

Excuse me, ladies. - Mm-hmm.

- Surely there must be someone

willing to take that blowhard on.

- I don’t think so. - Given the circumstances,

I can’t think of a single woman prepared to take on Mr. Renard.

- And a good thing, too.

I have found this entire event to be rather disappointing.

- Thank you, Murdoch. That’s interesting.

It will not be long now.

Mr. Lubbock, I believe you have

some questions to answer, sir.

Please, follow me. Ladies.

- Not long at all.

- This is outrageous.

I don’t even own an automobile.

And if I did, I wouldn’t be running women over with it.

- You placed a sizeable bet on the outcome of the game.

It would be in your interests for the match not to proceed.

- And since Mr. Renard has no opponent,

it seems my interests have been served.

- You injured those women, didn’t you?

- I did not.

I was umpiring the match when Miss Dodson was hurt.

You could have tampered with her equipment beforehand,

same with Miss Delange. - I could not.

Now charge me, or release me.

I have a tennis club to take possession of.

- Get out. Go on!

- The club’ll be closed by day’s end.

I hope you enjoyed your brief time in high society.

- Don’t say a word.

This is a clear violation of the terms of our agreement.

- It is not. - I am to play

a member of this club. - He does have a point.

And now Miss Handley is a member of the club.

The charter clearly states that a new admission

can be nominated by four members of good standing.

One, two, three, four.

And so now she is your opponent. Hm.

- Well, I’ll need some time to limber up.

- Are you sure you don’t mean sober up?

Oh, they amount to the same thing, Madam.

- Ugh...

- Mr. Lubbock, Pippa Pearson, and young Eamon Mosley.

None of them had the opportunity to injure

- all three women. - But they would all benefit

if the match were to be called off.

But none more so than Mr. Renard himself.

- Hm. He’s such an arrogant git

I doubt he would find it necessary to injure an opponent.

- The match is on! - What?

- Noah Renard’s latest opponent is Miss Lily Handley.

- I saw her practising earlier. She’s quite something.

- Is that right?

She would have had access to the ladies’ locker room.

She could have damaged Miss Dodson’s shoe

and Miss Delange’s racket.

- I may have bitten off more than I can chew.

And she doesn’t look like one to forfeit.

- Miss Lily Handley.

Detective Murdoch, Toronto Constabulary.

We’d like a word.

- Is she being arrested?

- Why did you do it, Miss Handley?

- I’m a better player than all of them.

And yet they treat me like dirt.

Throw their dirty clothes on the floor, never a kind word.

- So you should injure them?

They don’t deserve to represent women athletes.

- What about Miss Hart?

- I didn’t touch Miss Hart.

She was the only kind soul here.

- Someone tried to run her over with an automobile.

- I wouldn’t harm Miss Hart!

Besides, do you think I could really afford an automobile

with what they pay me here?

- Still, someone you know could have--

- No!

I will admit to the things I did wrong.

Don’t ask me to confess to the things I did not do.

Chief Constable, you might want to take a look

at what your wife is up to.

- Oh.

- I’ve had five opponents since arriving here.

Three of them were injured due to their innate frailty.

Another arrested,

and now I face one due for the retirement home.

- Don’t listen to him, Margaret. You can do this.

- You cannot do this. - And why not?

- Because you’ll get beat, that’s why.

I don’t doubt that, but I can last out the match.

If I do that, I save the club.

- You’ll be humiliated.

- If the club still stands, I don’t care.

Now go sit down and let me play.

- The Battle of the Sexes will finally begin.

Service goes to our visitor, Mr. Noah Renard.

- Three-time U.S. - tennis champion, Noah Renard!

Well aware of that fact, sir.

- As is everyone in attendance.

- Do you think what happened to Miss Hart was an accident?

- Possibly. - Toronto is being

absolutely overrun by reckless drivers.

- This will not be pretty.

But good on her for standing up for herself.

Come on, Margaret! You can do this.

Come on, Margaret! Come on!

- Thank you.

- Nah!

At least the pain will be short-lived.

Ah-ha! Ah-ha.

Ai-yi-yi! Oh!

It’s very close to my body.

Wha! Oh. Huh...

And then, oh, oh! Oh, ah. It’s hard. Oh.

- I can’t bear to watch this.

It comes towards me!

It’s all right. It’s all right.

Uh! Ah! Oh...

- Time. Time!

- What? Oh! Yes?

- A word of advice? - Yes. Uh, concede now?

- No. - Oh.

- Uh, he seems to be serving

exclusively to the centre of the court.

Uh, your right hand. - Mm.

- Uh, get your racket out the moment he begins

his backswing and hold it very firmly.

- Uh, uh, hmm?

- Godspeed. - Thank you.

- Exactly what I taught you.

- Service, Mr. Renard. - Right.

Oh!

- Oh, dear! - My leg!

- Mr. Renard? - I’m injured.

I don’t think I can continue.

It’s no use.

I’m out for the count!

I give up. I cannot continue.

- Are you sure? - Of course I am sure!

I’m injured! Help me!

I hereby declare that this match has been forfeited.

The winner is York Tennis Club’s own Margaret Brackenreid!

I did it! I did it!

I did it! I did it!

Congratulations!

- I did it! I did it!

For womankind!

- Are you all right?

- Ah, a little tender, but I’ll live.

Uh, whose car is that?

- Jack Pritchett.

He came pleading for his job back.

And did he mention how he tried to run me over?

- No. Nothing.

- That was the car that hit me, I know it.

The bumper was damaged.

- I don’t know what to tell you.

I guess you’ve made an enemy.

- I trust that’s the only one that I’ve made?

- I thought you said cards were a waste of time?

- They are. - But mathematics isn’t.

- Well? - I’ll take a card.

- You have a ten under there, don’t you?

- What if I do? - Well, then, if you do,

your odds of winning are 60% if you hold.

And those odds drop to 50% if you have a nine under there.

So, what will it be?

- I’ll hold.

- Bust. Very good.

- What are we playing for?

Fifty cents.

- Ah-ah-ah! If you can correctly tell me the odds of winning

on your next ten hands, it’s all yours.

- All right.

Well?

- Seventy percent.

- Very good. That’s one.

I do hope you don’t plan on wearing that hat outside.

- No?

Subtitling: difuze