All language subtitles for The Paradise_S01E03_The Paradise - Episode 3_Subtitles_1

It came to me
deep in the night,
as it so often does.

We shall be as a meadow!

Clara! The landing.

Ah, Denise, haberdashery.

From Miss Audrey.

Inspiration came to her
in the night.

-(LAUGHING)
-Inspiration must be blind.

Like love! And justice.
And worms.

Oh, I wish
I could do that, though.

Arrange things, don't you?

These days, I think I could do
anything I set my mind to.

Really? Anything?

What is there to stop me?

I know. She scares me, too.

-Clara!
-Sorry, Ma'am. Customer.

You weren't back.

Ladies, please take a seat.

Denise!

Le salon d'essayage.

(COOING)

We have searched
cellar to roof.

JONAS: A female could
get in and out and no-one
any the wiser.

We are vulnerable.

My department
has always adhered
to the highest standards!

Miss Audrey, no one
supposes this a reflection
on you or your staff.

He belongs
in the police station.

MORAY: No. I don't want him
at the police station.

I want him here.

Dudley,
you know infants.

When Alice was
sick last winter and
couldn't nurse the baby,

what did you do?

Mellins Infant Food.
Able's across the street
will have it.

-Arthur!
-ARTHUR: Infant food. Able's.

Yes, sir!

Jonas, get a message
to Peter Adler.

Tell him I wish to
speak to him,

on a matter of urgency.

Dudley, the newspapers.

Yesterday we were paying
a guinea a line
for advertising space,

tomorrow they'll give us
the front pages for free.

But Mr Moray, sir.
Who is to look after him?

Why, us.

The Paradise!

They wish to donate
money for the baby.

If we had a box, or a tin?

Yes! Yes! I will see to it.
But make haste.

The Mrs Felmingham
are asking for you.

Miss Audrey,
my name is
at the top of the list.

I see that,
but they have asked
for Denise.

All the morning customers
have been asking for Denise!

Indeed. She is quite
the
cause celebre,

the girl who found
the Paradise Baby.

I believe it will be
a new sales record.

I shouldn't worry.

With all the fuss being
made of this one,

we'll have every
unwanted brat in the city
dumped at our door.

Plenty of bastard
to go round, then.

-(BABY COOING)
-(DOOR OPENS)

KATHERINE GLENDENNING:
Oh, I know!
What business have I?

But I heard
and I had to see for myself.

Allow me to introduce
Mr Peter Adler.

Peter,
Miss Katherine Glendenning.

I see you have already
met my other guest.

KATHERINE: Oh, he is quite
the most beautiful thing.

MR ADLER: A heartbreaker,

in the lair of
a shameless opportunist.

Oh, come on, Adler!

This is an opportunity
that may serve us both.

Poor Miss Glendenning must be
wondering what devilish pact
we have in hand.

I am the patron of
a Foundling Home,
Miss Glendenning.

Moray is hoping
we will be able to find room
for his unexpected guest.

Though not quite yet.
I want him in my store
a day or two longer.

A baby? Here?

Oh! Moray,
what can you be thinking of?

The publicity.

You wanted me,
Mr Moray, sir?

Yes. (CLEARS THROAT)

Take him

into the Paradise.

I want him seen.

I want him loved.

Understand?

Yes, sir!

Our friend has a reputation
as a man of innovation
and drive.

Perhaps he is also hoping
to demonstrate

that there is a
softer side to him,

the human face of the
all-conquering capitalist.

MORAY: Hmm, you have
my measure.

Do I have your support?

We will take him.
On one condition.

-A donation?
-And a visit.

Our foundlings to your store.

We do our best
to fit them for work,
give them a future.

Well, who knows?
If one of them impresses,

you may even be moved
to extend the offer of a job.

Supposing the press were still
on hand to report the gesture.

Miss Glendenning. Moray.

Adler.

KATHERINE: You must let me
know when this visit
is to take place.

Your Foundlings
interest me, Mr Adler,

I should like very much
to be here.

Of course.

Miss Glendenning.

(SIGHS) You're wasting
your time, you know?

He's far too high-minded.

Now I wonder,

is that meant as a warning

or a challenge?

Seriously, watch your back,

she'd do anything for the kind
of money you earned today.

Isn't that right, Sam?

-Who, Clara? Aye.
-(BABY COOING)

SAM: She'd kill her own
grandmother to get
commission on the hide.

Oh! Can I hold him?
Please can I hold him?

DENISE: It won't last.
It's just people want
to tell their friends

they bought something
from the girl who found
the Paradise baby.

But he isn't!
He isn't the Paradise baby!

He wasn't born here,
he was just dumped.

-In Miss Audrey's
stupid saloon!
-(CHUCKLING)

-ARTHUR: It's not funny!
-No, come on, come on,
come here.

You're just being childish.

Everywhere I've took him
they've called him that,
the Paradise baby.

I'm the one who was born here
in the loading bays.

And when you're rich
and famous, there'll be
a plaque out there.

Saying what?

His mam was
the drayman's tart.

She dropped him like a turd
then fell down dead
of the shame.

God, you're full of spite!
Don't take it out on him.

What? I was just saying
what I've heard.

ARTHUR: What? What you heard?
Where? From who?

Oh, you know, people.

Aye, come on!
Hey, no, she's
just got it wrong.

Your mom was
the drayman's daughter,
she died of a fever.

Your Pa was lost at Sebastopol

and you were brought up
by the men who
worked in the bays.

You told me
the story, yourself.

But what if that's all it is?

A story?

(DOOR OPENS)

LORD GLENDENNING: Last week,
Moray bestrode the narrow
world like a colossus,

this week he's
Florence Nightingale
in pantaloons.

The man's a genius.

What do you know about a man
called Peter Adler?

Apart from his market value.

His market value
is not to be sniffed at.

They call him Saint Peter
at the club, rich as Croesus.

Full-time philanthropist. Why?

I thought I might invite him
to dine. Would you object?

Not at all.

But I don't imagine
it's my displeasure
you're hoping to provoke.

Every front page bar one!

"City foundling finds new,
celestial home

"An angel in Paradise,

-"Cherub among the chinaware."
-(CHUCKLING)

We are paying
for your front pages.

Adler's brats trooping through
it any moment.

I doubt the wheels of
commerce are going to grind
to a halt because

a few children pay us a visit.

Not children, foundlings,

begotten in sin,

abandoned while God
looked the other way.

They remind us of everything
that's foul in ourselves.

If ever I feel despondent,

I need only a minute
in the company of
Jonas and lo,

-the clouds lift.
-(CHUCKLING)

Where's the baby?

Haberdashery got hold
of him yesterday
and hasn't let go since.

Well, warn haberdashery
not to become too attached.

We have him on loan only.

People are starting
to speculate.

As to why the child
was left here.

And? What do
they conclude?

That he is yours.

You should read the editorial
in the
Chronicle
, Dudley.

"Once, such a child would
have been left
on the church steps.

"Today, the populace
puts its trust not in God,

"but in commerce."

We are the new church.

I slipped once.
18 months ago.

I have not done so since.

It is not,
could not be mine.

Mr Dudley, sir.

Mr Moray, Mr Dudley.

-It's private.
-A list.

A list with only two names.

They worked here,
when it was Emmerson's.

No-one else left who did.

They tell tales in the bays,

about how I came to
lose my arm.

Ever heard any?

-No.
-A story for every
day of the year,

most of them not fit
to be repeated.

None of them even close
to the truth.

Why don't you put them right?

Because the story can change
all it likes.

This never will.

-Good morning!
-EDMUND: Moray!

You've shown us all the way.

Everybody trusts a man
holding a baby!

I hear you're throwing
your doors open too,
very charitable.

Mr Adler!

(CHILDREN TALKING
INDISTINCTLY)

Children.

Welcome to the Paradise.

Go on, Grace.

I'm holding a party later,
destitutes, vagrants,

gentlemen of the press,
all welcome!

Keep holding hands.

Thank you.

After you, Peter.

MR ADLER: Come on girls.

MISS AUDREY: Hurry! Hurry,
they are on their way.
Remember, girls,

we must not judge.
Suffer the little children,
as the good Lord said.

-Where are you going?
-Eh, stock room.

I can see the crawlers
in their hair from here.
Filthy little things!

MISS AUDREY: Don't let them
touch anything.

MORAY: And this
is the ladies'
wear department,

in which
Miss Audrey is Queen.

Oh, nonsense. I am not...

(WHISPERING)
It's ridiculous, child.

Why, what a beautiful curtsey!

But you know, Mr Moray
meant only that Miss Audrey
is in charge here.

Indeed, she is very fearsome
and awfully elegant,

(WHISPERING) sometimes
I quite feel like
curtseying to her myself.

Miss Audrey, may I have
your permission to show
the girls the gowns?

I feel sure they would
like to see them.

-Oh...
-And maybe touch?

Just a little.

Perhaps I could help.

Our very finest gowns

are so precious,
that only Miss Audrey

may touch them.
Even Mr Moray is forbidden.

But if we may beg some
silk samples from
the Great Hall,

you could feel for yourselves,

how taffeta is so stiff it
almost stands up on its own

and chiffon, so soft,

it runs over your skin
like water.

After which, Mr Moray
has put on a luncheon for us.

Well, if you think you
might be hungry.

-(CHILDREN CHATTERING)
-Luncheon, splendid!

-Shall we have a look around?
-(MURMURING) Yes.

Only, do you know?

I was vain enough to put
on new shoes for this visit.

They are pinching me horribly.

I think I may need
some help
with the stairs.

I've got new shoes too.

MR ADLER: New to her.
She means new to her.

Come on, Grace.

(INDISTINCT CHATTERING)

It was kind of you,
earlier to take the trouble
with Grace.

-Such a taking little thing.
-Mmm.

What's her story?

Grace is one of our
"Wanted" children.

Her bed and board are paid
for, probably by a parent

who hopes to reclaim
her when their
circumstances change.

It means she cannot
be put up for adoption.

I'm glad. Everyone needs
to know they are wanted,

don't you think?

Just as everyone needs clothes
and shoes that fit.

Moray!

I have an idea.

Forty foundlings to be clothed
and shod at her expense?

-It'll cost a fortune!
-Lucky she has one.

She's just playing games.

Trying to make Moray
jealous, by setting her cap
at that Adler.

Anyone can see.

What would you know?
You spent the whole time
in the stock room.

Hey, think of the commission!
Who do you think will get it?

A store that
expanded in stages

and paid all its
staff paltry wages,

saw fit to employ
a sweet baby boy

and got itself on
the front pages!

What do you think?

-You won't leave that?
-Why not?

It's funny. He's laughing.

You mustn't. You can't!

Don't let him
scare you, Denise.

He pays your wages,
doesn't mean he owns you.

I'm not speaking for him!
I'm speaking for myself.

And the only thing I'm scared
of is the whole city

-finding out how
childish you are.
-Childish?

MISS AUDREY: Denise. I often
take a night cap at this time,
in my private parlour.

I wonder,
would you care to join me?

-You like ratafia?
-Yes.

Something else we have
in common.

I saw it in your face today,
with the child,

that a babe in your arms
was not fulfilment.

There is too much else first.

Perhaps there will be
too much else always.

I received several offers
of marriage in my youth.

One in particular,
we were fond, very fond.

But a married woman may not be
employed in a shop.

And after every offer,
I would return to my work,
and the answer

would come to me before
I had even asked myself
the question.

I choose this, over him.

Over everything,
I choose this.

I have never regretted
my choice.

I have loved my work
and cherished it

and forsaken all others
to cleave to it.

I will never let it be
taken from me.

Miss Audrey,

if you are seeking assurance
that I will not take my ideas
to Mr Moray...

Even if the ideas come
from me, he will know
they are yours.

There is a difference
in the order of our minds.
I see that, now.

My notions are small, insular.

We shall be as a meadow.

Yours are as quick and as
vital as the world to which
they are a response. So,

I have decided.

There will be no more ideas.

No more thoughts.

I am to stop thinking?

If you wish to remain
at the Paradise.

There are things, Denise,
he will not tolerate, even
from a favourite.

You must make certain
you never stand
accused of them.

Don't mistake me.
I have no wish to lose you.

But I refuse to lose this.

Now...

Run along.

Between Pauline's snoring,
the baby's crying

and embarrassment over your
uncle's ridiculous antics,

you are like to have
an unsettled night.

You say you don't
regret your choice.

But what if you did not have
to choose?

What if you could have
had both?

No more thoughts, Denise.

No ideas, no questions,
no what-ifs.

Just willing hands
and an empty mind.

KATHERINE: Mr Adler, the
velvet or the delaine wool?

Above all, I wish them to
look like children,
rather than foundlings.

The velvet is very
popular with the better
class of family.

But the wool is less formal,
more comfortable.

And considerably cheaper.

Then I say the wool has it.

KATHERINE: Seconded!

And now undergarments.

Well done. That's half a crown
each you just cost us.

Don't you ever think about
anything but money?

60 yards of the delaine wool
and they're making their way

to ladies wear
for undergarments.

(INDISTINCT CHATTERING)

Girl, you are having an idea.
I have told you.

There will be no more.
No more, I say!

Yes, Miss Audrey.
I understand.

(INAUDIBLE)

Miss Audrey, I fear we have
quite stripped your shelves.

Stripped? Oh no! Not stripped.
I assure you. Never, stripped.

The seamstresses are already
hard at work on the wool.

Preliminary fittings
this evening.

Denise and Clara will be
on hand to assist.

MR ADLER: The children
will arrive, as soon as
the store is closed.

MISS AUDREY: I will pass
on the message, myself.

Miss Audrey! I cannot
help with the fittings
this evening.

I have pains...
Women's trouble?

Indeed?

Terrible cramps, ma'am.
I can barely stand.

And yet you did so
whilst there was
commission to be had.

You will assist with the
fittings, Clara,

or I will consider
your job half-finished

and your
commission forfeit.

-ARTHUR: Miss Audrey!
-Not now. And stop lurking!

KATHERINE: Thank you.
You have been most helpful.

Perhaps Mr Moray should
think of opening
a department for children.

So many of his customers
are mothers.

And it would have made
your task today so very
much easier.

Don't you think?

MR ADLER: We are
grateful to Miss Glendenning,
of course.

Well, who could not be?

But my ambition is to make
the home independent
of anyone's generosity.

If my name is to be
remembered at all,

I should like it to be as
the man who made the home
autonomous of any benefactor.

Well, you may soon find
yourself with
a new benefactor.

The collection started by
our customers has...

Grown beyond all expectation.

The baby comes with a dowry.

LORD GLENDENNING:
Then the fund requires
proper administration.

A patron. Give a public face
to the giving

and the people will give more.

You raise a sufficient amount,
you invest it wisely

and then Adler's home

may yet achieve the
independence he hopes for.

KATHERINE: Why a patron?

Why not a patroness?

(LAUGHING)

You offer yourself,
Miss Glendenning?

I do, Mr Adler.

MORAY: And what a delightful
figurehead you would make.

Though, perhaps,
more for decoration than use.

You doubt my capability?

You are, an exquisite
confection of froth,

frivolity and fashion,
who gives delight
wherever she goes.

-MAN: Here, here.
-And that is, that is your
glory and your gift.

Why seek to stray into areas
for which you are so
wholly unfitted?

Judging by your profits,

your customers seem a pretty
deep-pocketed lot,

why should their giving
come as a surprise?

-MORAY: It's the extent
of it that's unexpected.
-How so?

The majority of them
are women, mothers.

An unwanted child touches
something in them.

-I would have thought
that obvious.
-MORAY: (SCOFFS)

You are quite the expert
on my customers.

Hardly that,

but I do feel you are missing
an opportunity.

Indeed?

(CLEARS THROAT)

Naturally, my own
experience is of the froth
and frivolity variety.

But having spent
the day attempting
to outfit 40 infants,

I can assure you,

a department supplying
ready-made items for the young

would be a godsend
for their carers

and a goldmine for you.

A children's department?

Splendid notion, Moray.

What can have brought
it to mind?

Though, in good conscience,
I can't claim credit
for the idea.

One of your shop girls
was talking about it.

I feel sure you would have
caught up with her,

-at some point.
-(LAUGHING)

-CLARA: Aren't you
the pretty one?
-GRACE: Yes.

I bet there's not a princess
in the land bonnier than you.

(CHUCKLING)

Well, that's another one done.

What are you doing?

Same as you, clearing up.

All done. Goodnight.

(MR ADLER CLEARS THROAT)

Mr Adler!

I thought you had gone.

Well, unfortunately,
without this.
Hence my return.

Would you share your thoughts
for the customary penny?

(CHUCKLING) Oh, they
are not worth so much.

I was thinking about a dress.

-Thus proving Moray right.
-Hmm.

(CHUCKLING)

I think Moray likes
to vex you.

And you him.

Was it a nice dress?

Exquisite.
My first, truly grown-up gown.

-Black silk crepe,
buttoned high to the throat.
-Black?

-You were in mourning?
-For my mother.

They hadn't told me
she would die.

I was... Lost.

I could neither be
what I had been before,

nor see what I must become.

And then they put
the dress on me.

And I knew exactly who I was.

I was sorrow incarnate.

I was grief.

I was my father's solace.

Ever since then,
I have used clothes
to declare who I am.

And if, on a particular day,
who I am is not who
I've a mind to be,

why, then, I use clothes
to transform myself.

And these last days,
in my company,

who have you been, then?

These last days...

I have been...

Someone I rather liked.

Someone I would like
to be more often.

Well...

I am glad that provoking
Moray's jealousy has not
been my only value.

Miss Glendenning.

Katherine.

I have seen your kindness,
I know you would not
wish me pain.

If my attentions
would be unwelcome,

if your affections
are already engaged,

I would ask you, in kindness,

to speak now.

(HEAVY BREATHING)

Thief! You thief!
Give it back or I'll kill you.

I swear, I'll kill you.

(GRUNTING)

(BABY CRYING)

It was a nightmare.

(STUTTERING) Uh, Clara had
a nightmare.

-It was the baby crying
worked into her dream.
-CLARA: Uh, yes.

Uh...

(SOBBING) I'm sorry for
waking you, Miss Audrey.
I'm all right now.

I don't know what it is
you think I've taken.

The money! You saw me,
you knew I had it.

-What money?
-You knew I wouldn't be
able to go to anyone.

What money?

From the collecting tin.

You stole money
from foundlings?

It was given for a child!
What does it matter
whose child?

She's yours. Isn't she?
That little girl, Grace.

She's yours.

(SIGHS)

I pay bed and board.

She can't be adopted
if she's paid for.

But my commission's gone down
since you came
and the money's due.

Clara, I swear to you.
I didn't take it.

-Then who did?
-I don't know.

Well, then I've lost her.

Oh!

I've lost her.

(SOBBING)

Denise. The collecting
tin is full again.

When you have finished,
take it down to the office.

Yes, Miss Audrey.

(BABY COOING)

Oh!

-Girl!
-Miss Audrey.

You are dallying with a baby.

-Oh, he likes
the pretty glass.
-Enough!

I have had enough!

He cries, he disrupts.

There are nightmares
and birds and glass.

It is not for us to understand
what he likes, but the other
way around!

Infants are as wax

to be imprinted
with the proper
way of things.

What is needed is method.

Now, then, master...(SIGHS)

Baby.

Let us see.

(COINS CLINKING)

Nine pounds,
seven shillings and ten pence.

And still they give.

Bank it with the rest.

He has that effect
on all of us.

I sometimes think if I were
left alone with him too long,

I would find myself
confessing to murder.

By the way,
Mr Moray would
like to see you.

-Do you know why?
-There is to be
a public presentation.

Our baby and the money
collected for him

are to be given over
the Foundling home.

I presume Mr Moray wants you
to finish what you started.

A children's
department, Denise?

How dare you?

How dare you move
behind my back,

using my connections,

laying me open to ridicule.
How dare you manipulate me!

-No, sir. I...
-I gave you encouragement.

I gave you licence,

too much, it seems.

You may be clever,

but know this,

I am not to be played.

I am never to be played.

-Do you understand? Yes?
-(KNOCK ON DOOR)

Miss Glendenning.
She asks for you.

Tell her...

I am on my way.

I'm sorry.

Can we talk?

Not here.

Peter Adler wishes
to pay court to me.

I told him that his attentions
would not be unwelcome.

I see.

I wished you to hear
it from me.

Well.

Why allow someone else
the pleasure?

Oh, you are impossible!

I offer you honesty
and you turn it into
something, tainted.

You make me
feel like something tainted.

And you wonder why
I'm choosing Adler over you?

-You were right.
-Sorry?

Miss Glendenning and Adler.

And what are you going to do?

Nothing. Wish them well.

(SIGHS) Oh...

What would you...
Pistols at dawn?

If she wants him,
let her have him!

And if you are worrying about
the effect this will have

on my relationship
with her father...

I am worried about what effect
it will have on you!

When I asked you,
about the baby,

whether it could be yours,
you said you had "slipped".

You knew that!
I told you at the time.

"Slipped", Moray?

It is not a crime.

-Why do you punish
yourself for it?
-Because...

It, it felt like infidelity!

(CLEARS THROAT)

That time, with Clara.

It felt like infidelity.

And is it for the same reason

that you refuse to fight for
the comfort

and companionship
of a woman any man

would feel proud
to call his wife?

Helene is three
years gone, Moray.

You are still here.

Clinging to your grief
as if it were a lifeline.

And if Alice died?

Would you grieve?

Three years. It...

It is nothing!

-It is yesterday.
-It is not.

Forgive me, but...

I sometimes think you
cleave to her memory with
more passion

than you ever felt
for her living.

A man who would so,
wed himself to the past,

is either ready
for the grave himself,

or looking for a way to escape
the pain of the present.

And I don't think
you are ready for the grave.

What would you have me do?

I would have you be happy.

It is time for you
to take your turn.

(BABY GURGLES)

The longer one has been
holding him,
the emptier one's arms.

For this reason, if no
other, do not give him
back to Pauline.

I heard a noise. I didn't
know it was...

He sleeps when I hold him.

When I put him down, he wakes.

-Sorry.
-Denise!

Why a go-between?

Of all people,
Miss Glendenning?

I told you to come to me.

I gave you licence,
an invitation.

But Miss Audrey
is my every day.

You are only my high
days and holidays.

I think I see.

You find yourself
in a difficult situation,

conflicting demands,
loyalties, pulling you
this way and that.

But, you are Denise.

You are resourceful.
You find a way and then

I crush you for it.

Yes?

Yes.

It must have
seemed very unfair.

I wish I had half your
ingenuity to apply to my
own predicaments.

I am sorry if you
are troubled, sir.

My uncle always said,
the only thing that matters,
really matters,

is that you can meet your own
eyes in the mirror each day

and know you've been
true to yourself.

Your uncle is a wise man

and a shockingly bad poet.

(SIGHS)

-Well, (STUTTERS) good night.
-Goodnight.

By the way...

Adler has asked that we
might name the baby.

Since they both share an early
start in the Paradise,

I thought perhaps "Arthur".

What do you think?

Arthur. Yes.

(WHISPERING) Arthur,
Arthur. Arthur.

Did you do something to Clara
'cause of what she said
about your ma?

Did you take something
from her?

You have to give it back.
You know that, don't you?

I don't have it any more.

I only took it to pay her out.

I didn't want to keep it!

So, I put it in the tin,
for the foundlings.

Don't ask.

From the staff
and customers of the Paradise,

with our best wishes,
now and for the future.

(ALL APPLAUDING)

Thank you very much.

I also wish to announce
that as from next month,

the Paradise will be the first
and only store in Europe

to provide its customers
with a dedicated
children's department.

An innovation for which
I must thank

Miss Katherine Glendenning.

(APPLAUDING)

Arthur?

Bye, little Arthur.
Be good. Don't forget us.

Thank you, Arthur.

ARTHUR: Sir? We've
all written things in it.

Things he might want to know,
when he's older,
about his time here.

Pauline, she's done 10 pages!

But some of it's hard to read
because of all the crying.

And if he ever does
want to visit, could he
ask for me?

I could show him
where he was found!

'Cause I'll still be here.
I'll always be here.

I shall be sure to let
him know, Arthur.

Thank you.

Oh, dear, I'm afraid
I'm finding this all a
little heart-breaking.

Oh! Not on this little
chap's account.

He won't be with us long.
We've already had enquiries.

No, break your heart
for children like Grace.

We could have found her
a loving home many
times over,

were we free to do so.

KATHERINE: But she is wanted!

You told me when circumstances
change, she will be reclaimed.

MR ADLER: 99 times
out of 100, circumstances
do not change.

And in the meantime,
she is denied everything,

because someone,
somewhere would rather
hold to a fantasy

than look the truth
in the face.

Filthy little things.

(DOOR OPENS)

I came to tell you, that if
you've had enough of
making yourself ridiculous

with your dolls and your
verses, you can take
them down now.

The child's gone to
the foundling home.

It was only ever meant to be
the joke of a moment.

It was Denise,
the way she looked at me.

It made me realise where her
heart lies,

even if she does not
know it herself.

And it is not here.

It's for her I have fought on,
only for her

-and now I don't know whether
there's any fight left in me.
-Enough!

Denise, Denise, Denise!

She cannot stop herself.
I see that now,

ideas flow from her
like water from a spring.

And the longer it goes on,
the more he will see
the difference between us.

Your niece and her ideas
will be the death of me,
in the end.

But the end is not yet come,

for either of us.

Your standards are slipping.

I needed someone to
keep me in line.

Someone I could write
real verses for.

As I recall, you were
prevented from versifying
as you wished,

by your inability to find
anything other than
the word "Tawdry"

to rhyme with my name.

Don't delude yourself, Edmund.

We wouldn't have suited.

Well. We'll never
know now, will we?

(WHISPERING) Clara!

Where have you been?

Out.

What happened to the money?

Oh, a lot of drinks.
A lot of friends.

I hate you.

I'm not just saying it
'cause I'm drunk.

I really, really hate you.

(SOBBING)

(SOBBING)

(SOBBING)