All language subtitles for Murdoch.Mysteries.S11E06.1080p.BluRay.x264-YELLOWBiRD

I think you'll be pleased

with what I'm going to
tell you, William.

Are you sure I can't
help you with some of that?

- I brought it, I'll carry it!
- As you wish.

I mean, all this was my idea.

It certainly was.

Is there a problem, William?

No, it's fine.

Don't fuss, William.
It's too hot.

- Let's go swimming.
- I didn't bring my trunks.

Why do we need them?

Oh, William, look!
The water's lovely!

Julia...

I think there may be
someone else out here.

William.

Well, I suppose we're on
a busman's holiday now.

Yet again.

I'd say he died
in the last 24 hours.

Knife wound to the heart.

Likely the owner of this easel.

Perhaps the killer
used this path.

Watch your step.

Hello!

Good day.

Detective William Murdoch,
Toronto Constabulary.

And my wife, Dr. Julia Ogden.

Hello.

A detective?

- Have we done something wrong?
- Is one of your group missing?

Two, actually.

Did one of them have
a long, unruly beard?

You see,
I told you it was unruly.

I thought it was handsome.

A modern man
should be clean-shaven.

We regret to inform you
that he has died.

Died? How?

I believe he was murdered.

- Are... Are we in danger?
- We don't know.

- Could you tell us his name?
- Gavin Caswell.

- And who else is missing?
- His name is Tom Thomson.

Well, that's a terrible shame
about Mr. Caswell.

Are you done with us?
We're losing our daylight.

This man was a friend
of yours, was he not?

We were bound by mutual pursuit,

but nothing more than that.

Well, they didn't seem
overly concerned.

Just because they share
the same hobby

doesn't mean
they like each other.

Painting is more than a hobby,
William.

Of course.

Didn't the inspector
meet a Tom Thomson?

More than met.

The inspector sold him
one of his paintings for $10,

if you can believe that.

Julia, what are you doing
in there?

I thought I saw something!

This must be what Mr. Caswell
was working on.

No wonder
he threw it in the bush.

I like it.

Julia...

There's someone else out here.

Mr. Thomson?

Hello.

Detective William Murdoch,
Toronto Constabulary.

My wife, Julia Ogden.

I see.
Are you lost?

No.

No, we're looking for you,
Mr. Thomson.

Whatever for?

May I inquire
as to why your hands are...

Oh, this? Yes, I was gutting
a less than cooperative rabbit.

I see.

Why...

Why do you ask?

Mr. Thomson, one of your
compatriots was Killed recently.

- Who?
- Gavin Caswell.

That's horrible.

But I certainly
had nothing to do with it.

I'll need you to accompany me
to the station house.

I said
I had nothing to do with it.

Then you'll have
nothing to worry about.

And we're gonna do
a reproduction

of the new musical
"The Rollicking Girl."

Now, wouldn't that
be considered stealing?

George, Mr. Rosenfeld
stole it from someone else.

She's right.

Mr. Sydney Rosenfeld is known
as the "thief of Broadway."

Thank you, Detective Watts.

Sir.
The woods didn't treat you well?

I can't blame him for returning.

The wilderness
is an awful place.

Oh, on the contrary.
I favor Muir's observation.

"In every walk with nature,

one receives
far more than he seeks."

You mean gets more
than he bargained for.

And it's always bad.

See you tonight, George.

This will confirm
my whereabouts.

But please, I beg of you,
discretion.

Making this public would destroy
both myself and the other party.

If this is
true, no one will hear of it.

And you avow that you
were not with Mr. Caswell.

I do.

But you both left the camp
at the same time.

That may be, but we soon parted.

I wouldn't share
the same air with that man.

Be that as it may.

I will need you
to surrender that shirt.

Excuse me.
Can you help me?

I'll endeavor to do my best.

- My bicycle's been stolen.
- I see.

It's most urgent
that it be found.

It is very precious to me.
Could you send a constable?

Yes, of course.

I don't think McNabb
is too busy right now.

I'll do it myself.

Well, thank you.

Now, when did you last have
the bicycle?

I had it last evening.

Mr. Thomson
was telling the truth.

The blood is not human.

I checked.
His alibi is sound.

So he's not a murderer,
just an inefficient butcher.

That just leaves one of
those painters out in the woods

as our most likely suspect.

Though there's little
to warrant bringing them in.

Unless...

Unless what?

I'm sure they would
accept you, sir,

given your talents.

They'd be a bit tight-lipped

around a police officer,
don't you think?

Well, they're quite
full of themselves.

You know that world,

and you may be able to
find something I can use.

Why don't you go?

I'm ill at ease around
artistic types, not like you.

Well...

It's been a while since
I picked up the bristles.

I'm sure you would fit right in,
given your immense talents.

I'll go, Murdoch.
No need to keep shoveling.

Very good, sir.

So you've traveled
the entire world?

Not yet, but I soon will have.

I simply have to
cross the continent

and arrive in Vancouver,
and then I shall be done.

- And all on a bicycle?
- Not just any bicycle.

- The one that's been stolen.
- Whatever for?

Because it is
a valuable bicycle.

No, I meant, why would
you ride around the world?

Why does one do anything?

I had a desire.

I think I could learn
from you all, that's why.

It's $3 a month
to rent the studio.

I can manage that.

We do expect a certain standard.

I can vouch
for Mr. Brackenreid's work.

He's a talented amateur.

Thank you, Mr. Thomson.

And you say
you were once a policeman?

I still am.

But I'm hoping to move on
from that life.

It's my painting
that's important to me now.

What are you looking at?

Nothing, apparently.

That's very good, sir.
Very good.

You may just fit in here
after all.

Typical artists
from what I can tell.

The lady painter, Miss Coyle,

brained Mr. Armbruster
with a bottle some months ago.

That's typical?

Each were jealous of the other's
successes, no matter how scant.

What did they have to say
about Mr. Caswell?

- They all disliked him.
- Why?

Well, he was the most
accomplished of the lot.

Really?

That painting doesn't seem
anything special.

His work, apparently,
was held in high regard.

Rumor has it he was to open
that new art gallery.

- A very prestigious honor.
- And perhaps motive for murder.

All right then, gentlemen.
I'd better get back at it.

George, what do you think
of this painting?

Oh, sir,
I couldn't possibly say.

I don't consider myself
bright enough to understand art.

Shall I get you another?

If you promise not to tell.

So I've alerted most
of the city's pawnshops

and the other station houses
of your missing bicycle.

We will find it.

So I guess until then
I am stuck here.

I suppose so.

Well, I will admit this is
not the most interesting city

I have ever been to,

but I have no complaints
about my current company.

Was that too forward?

You're a woman who has
traveled the world unchaperoned.

I don't imagine there is
such a thing as "too forward"

in your books.

I must say,
I do like you, Mr. Watts.

Ah, well, it's "detective,"
actually.

Sorry. Detective.

But, please, call me Llewellyn.

Then I must say,
I do like you, Llewellyn.

She's coming!

- Already?
- Why didn't she tell us?

- Bad luck, Denton.
- What do you mean?

Well, with that Caswell dead,

you, like the rest of us,
would have a chance.

That is,
if you ever finished anything.

Who the bloody hell is coming?
Excuse my language.

- Lady Belinda.
- Who's Lady Belinda?

Either an angel or devil,
given her mood.

She should have told us
that she was on her way.

And what would be
the fun in that?

Now...

...what have you to show me?

None of you have a fraction
of poor Mr. Caswell's ability.

What is this?

The Waterdown Falls.

That's a waterfall?

It looks more like
a melted candle.

Mr. Denton,
why do you even bother?

Y-You said I had promise.

And I once had my maidenhead.

It seems that both
our early virtues have left us.

Your work is better
suited to the Grand Guignol

than the halls
of this fair city.

Perhaps you should stop trying
to prove you're not a woman.

Now, this is quite something.

It's not finished yet.

Oh, I can see that.

But I can also see
something else.

This was painted by a man.

A real man.

You are?

Inspector Thomas C. Brackenreid.

A pleasure, Inspector.

How long have you been painting?

Just over an hour.

And quick witted as well.

Wherever did you find
this jewel?

He recently joined us.

Oh, joined and surpassed.

Sir, I would like to
offer you my patronage.

D-Did you take a close look
at my work?

Oh, Mr. Armbruster,
don't grovel.

It's unbecoming.

I will take care of
your every creature comfort.

In exchange for what?

In exchange for the privilege to
be the first to see your work.

In exchange for nothing
but a chance for me

to savor your talent.

Will this suit you?

Oh, very much.

You are also welcome
to share my residence.

I already have
a place to hang my hat.

It's hardly your hat
I'm interested in.

I'm open for you.

Day or night.

Oh. You're not at this again,
are you?

I am.

Well...

What does that mean? "Hmm"?

I just don't really
care for it, that's all.

Everyone's entitled
to an opinion.

- No matter how misguided.
- Ugh.

If you want to paint, you can
go home and spruce up the porch.

It could use a coat or two.

This. Honestly.

There is just something
in this work that moves me.

It isn't work.
It's art.

And quite frankly, I think the
inspector is a better painter.

- Well, I like it.
- “Why?

It's hard to say.

I'm a relatively
intelligent man. Try.

You either like it or you don't.

Yes, but why?

I just like it.

I don't think I could explain it
to you.

Well, I don't think
it's very good.

The trees
don't even look like trees.

They evoke the spirit of trees.

Perhaps that's the case

due to the artist's inability
to depict them accurately.

Well, I like it.

I think I'm going to
hang it here.

Perfect. That way there'll be
no one to complain about it.

It's a shame
Belinda passed you by again.

I could offer you
the same sympathy as well.

Apparently she prefers
the work of a neophyte.

Just because she is rich,

it does not mean
she has any expertise.

Sounds to me
like sour grapes, gentlemen.

What's his tale of woe?

I've hardly seen him
put paint to canvas.

Mr. Denton has had
a hard time of it.

He was once
a prodigious painter,

but a fire destroyed
all of his work.

- What a pity.
- More than that. It's tragic.

He needs to pick up the brush
again, get back to it.

He has tried,

but it seems
his muse has left him.

It must be because of
his engaging personality.

Oh, I'll have a cup, please,
love.

You have hands.

Being a female
does not make me your slave.

Oh, you're one of those.

I only asked because
you're already there.

All right.

So how does it feel?

Thank you.

Being the chosen one.

It feels good.

I can't say that it doesn't.

Mr. Caswell was
Belinda's last chosen one.

Don't think
it felt good for him.

What are you suggesting?

Simply that you'd be advised
to stay on her good side.

Taking a patronage
is a double-edged sword.

Lovely if you fulfill
the patron's wishes,

not so pleasant if you don't.

And Mr. Caswell didn't?

Given Belinda's past
and Mr. Caswell's fate,

I think
that's a safe assumption.

What do you mean, her past?

She used to have a husband.

They go out
for a tramp in the woods,

she doesn't have one anymore.

- You wanted to see me.
- No.

I wanted you to see me.

Paint me, Thomas.

I doubt little impressed me more
than Constantinople.

The Blue Mosque, Hagia Sophia.

A city half in Europe
and half in Asia.

So where is it, then?

Eurasia, I suppose.

That's not a place.
That's stupid.

Oh, Higgins, be quiet.

Have you seen Egypt?

I camped under the visage
of the Great Sphinx,

luncheoned by
the pyramids of Khufu,

swam in the waters
of the Nile River.

It's incredible
to walk the roads

of a civilization
eons older than our own.

Yes, I most certainly did
see Egypt.

And one day
I hope to see it again.

Gentlemen.
Back to work.

What do you think, Murdoch?

It's very good, sir.

But are you sure
this is the proper place?

Oh, let them have an ogle.

As close as some of them
will ever come, I imagine.

Especially Higgins.

Sir, have you
found out anything?

I have indeed.

What you're looking at

is not only a fine portrait
of a beautiful woman,

but also you're looking at
the primary suspect.

Who is she?

Lady Belinda Carlye.

Recently widowed, and patron
of the arts and artists.

Thomas!

Talk to Miss Coyle about her.
She may know something.

Oh, it looks marvelous.

Lady Carlye,
Detective William Murdoch.

Oh, charmed.

Lady Carlye.

Thomas, you must let
this handsome man

experience the touch
of your brush.

Oh, I don't think I'd be
comfortable with the attention.

Oh, let them look.
As you can see, I am.

Thomas, could I have
a moment of your time?

- Certainly.
- Not here.

It was a pleasure to meet you,
Detective Murdoch.

I do hope our paths
will cross again.

Well, they just might.

Attention, all.

I come bearing news.

As you are no doubt aware,

I am one of the main architects
of the Fine Art Gallery,

and as such,

I have decided to exhibit
selections of your work

at the gallery's opening.

And I am also pleased
to announce

that the featured work

will be Thomas's most recent
portrait of yours truly.

You are indeed fortunate
to bathe

in this man's reflected light.

There'll be prestige and glory
for all.

Close the door.

What is this?

- Art.
- You mean filth, don't you?

Imagine my humiliation.

I come to your office
to apologize

for my dismissive behavior
earlier and I find...

Where did you get this?!

- I painted it.
- You?

From a photograph, I hope.

You...

Her?
And I just don't...

I'm a painter,
and she's just a subject.

A stark naked subject!

And nothing to my eye
but shadows and light.

Now, if you will excuse me,
woman, I have work to do.

- What kind of work?
- My work.

Hmm, well.

You can work your way
through dinner.

Tell me about Lady Carlye's
association with your group.

She's hardly associated
with the group.

She simply has her claws
latched into that portly fool

who recently joined.

Y-Yes.
But before the "portly fool"?

She was Gavin Caswell's patron.

The recently murdered
Gavin Caswell.

I believe that's what I said.

What was their relationship like
before he was murdered?

They were inseparable...

Until Mr. Caswell
developed something.

Mrs. Carlye could not tolerate.

What was that?

A backbone.

Could you elaborate?

Mr. Caswell was extremely
popular with Mrs. Carlye

when he painted in a style
she favored.

- But when he didn't?
- She was furious.

And let me tell you, sir,

there are few more dangerous

than a proud woman
who feels disrespected.

But if you want to know more
about her,

talk to her staff

and ask about her marriage
to her now-dead husband.

Word is she was no lady
before she met him.

Are you still
feeling comfortable, Miss Bloom?

Very. And you?

As much as I can be,
considering the circumstances.

May I see what you're doing?

No.
You must wait till I'm finished.

What do you think Crabtree
will think of this?

He's a modern man.
I'm sure he'll be delighted.

I don't like this.

Well, it's very good.

Put your eyes
back in your head, Henry.

I'm just looking at the art.

- It's a fine painting.
- Well, I don't like it.

I-I don't like the idea
of the inspector

seeing my girl
in the altogether.

Oh, my.

That is something.

I want one.

Well, I think there is
only the one.

Oh, no, not that one, silly.

I want one of myself.

Where did this come from?

N-No.
The... The inspector painted it.

Oh, well, then you must
introduce me to the inspector.

Yes, Henry.
You must!

And when did you do this?

- Just yesterday.
- I see.

I think I should feature it
at the opening.

Oh, I think not.

It is my show.

And it is my gallery. You will
feature what I tell you to.

Oh, I think not.

I do hope
I have not created a monster.

No, you've created an artist.

Is that what you are?

May I remind you, Thomas,

that both monsters and artists
can be destroyed.

Crabtree!

In here now!

- Sir.
- Did you do this?

Good gracious, no.

Then who was in my office?

Sir, I just returned from lunch
a scant few minutes ago myself.

Oh, what a shame.

- Did you do this?
- Me? Of course not.

I suppose you're back
to featuring me at your showing.

No.

No?

My work has grown since then.

Grown? You've only been at it
for a few days.

I'm a quick study.

If you have grown so much,
then you can paint me again.

And better this time.

I will open the show.

You will not.

- Sir.
- What is it, Murdoch?

A moment?

Sir, you must remain
on this case.

You're my best chance.

This woman
is being insufferable.

That may be, but she remains
our primary suspect.

Lady Carlye.

I shall paint you.

Good.

Let's get at it, then.

I should not speak ill
of Lady Carlye.

She did keep me on
after her husband died.

I'm not asking you
to speak ill of her.

I only ask
that you speak the truth.

Where was Lady Carlye
two days ago?

I don't know.

Could you describe relations

between Lady Carlye
and her late husband?

They fought, those two.

She told me it was because
they were madly in love.

Looked like madness
plain and simple to me.

Could you explain that?

I saw her hit him, sir.

And he was a man twice her age.

It was not like any love
I've ever seen.

Thank you.

If I had known it was stolen,

I would have reported it
immediately.

Hmm, undoubtedly.

Someone brought it in
last night.

I didn't see the notice
it was stolen until later.

Thank you for informing me.

Do you have any idea
who brought it in?

- John Smith.
- An alias.

- That's what made me suspicious.
- Well, thank you very much.

- If it remains unclaimed...
- It won't.

I don't know.

Yes, I do know.

I don't like it.

I simply paint what I see.

Well, then perhaps you'd
best start seeing better.

Start again.

So when are you going to
tell her?

Tell who what?

When are you going to
tell Miss Faust

you found her bicycle?

- What are you suggesting?
- I'm not suggesting anything.

I saw you wheeling her bicycle
into the evidence lockup.

Don't worry.
I'm not gonna say anything.

I'm not sure
I want her to leave.

Fair enough, Watts.

But it might not be the best way
to begin a friendship.

I mean, that stolen bicycle
is gonna grow in your mind,

bigger and bigger,
until it consumes you.

You haven't read your Poe,
have you?

Yes. Well...

Perhaps I'll be over her
in a few days,

then I'll find it for her.

I have ample grounds
to bring her in.

Did you not hear
what I just said, Murdoch?

My exhibition opens tonight.

Sir, all whom I have spoken to
regarding Belinda Carlye

state she has a violent temper.

Fiery is more like it.

Her husband died
under mysterious circumstances.

An accident is what I heard.

Sir, she was
missing from her home

the day Gavin Caswell
was murdered.

A socialite leaves home.
How suspicious!

All that said, I would like to
bring her in for questioning.

And so you should,

but not until tomorrow
or the day after.

I will not
have my show compromised.

Sir, there is a real possibility

you could become
her next victim.

Oh, is that so?

Well, if that's the case,

I would imagine it would ensure
my work is even more valuable.

- Sir?
- That was a joke, Murdoch.

I'll be careful around her.

Ah. Margaret.

I'd like to introduce you to
my patron, Lady Belinda Carlye.

Lady Carlye,
my wife, Margaret Brackenreid.

- Charmed.
- I'm sure.

Excuse me, ladies.

What do you want
with my husband?

Oh, I imagine
I want the same thing

that many women
would want with him.

Well, I...

And I do believe
he is an accomplished painter.

- If you try anything...
- I am merely setting the table.

It's your husband's choice
if he wishes to dine.

Absolutely no idea
what that is.

Murdoch, Dr. Ogden.

- Sir.
- This is a beautiful gallery.

Certainly something that the
city's lacked up to this point.

And your work
is the star attraction.

Again, work.

You indeed are
the cock of the walk, Inspector.

Thank you, Doctor.

Anything troubling you?

It's just unusual
being in one place for so long.

I guess I'm out of habit.

I'll find your bicycle.

Just take a little more time,
and then you can be on your way.

Llewellyn, I have no complaints
about the company.

You are a marvelous companion.

I just like to finish
what I start.

So do I.

You are wonderful.

I do consider myself very lucky
to have found a man like you.

Good evening,
ladies and gentlemen.

I am so pleased to welcome you

to my newly created
Fine Art Gallery.

It is my hope
that one day soon

this gallery will be amongst
the finest in North America

if not the world.

Yeah.

In honor of our opening,

I would like to present to you
the work of a bright new talent

that I had the pleasure of
recently being introduced to.

I give you
Thomas C. Brackenreid.

Do you like it, Doctor?

Yes.
It's... It's... It's quite good.

Murdoch?

Well, it's very well rendered,
but I'm certainly no judge.

Bravo, Mr. Denton!

Well, I must say, Mr. Denton,

you're back.

What?

There's just something in this
painting that I'm drawn to.

It looks like another
ordinary painting to me.

I like it.

Thank you.

Well, purchase it
if you must,

but, please,
hang it in your office.

- Congratulations.
- Thank you.

Mr. Denton.

This is brilliant.

Brilliant? It's nothing
but twigs and leaves.

Mr. Brackenreid,
collect your oils.

- I'm through with your service.
- What?

Mr. Denton will be
my new protégé.

- I would be honored.
- Lady Carlye.

Enough, Mr. Brackenreid.
I'm through with you.

No, you're not.
You're under arrest, love.

- What is he doing?
- What?!

Ah, finally.

I thought you were
gonna keep me here all night.

I just might.

You're just mad at me because
I found a better painter.

You and I both know
that's the only reason I'm here.

Don't be ridiculous.

Or is it that you know
you've lost your chance with me?

- Denton's half the painter I am.
- No, he is not.

And I'm confident
he'll be much more man.

You murdered Caswell just like
you murdered your husband.

Don't be preposterous.
Where's your proof?

I'll find it.

Then talk to me when you do.
I'm finished for now.

Just think how much
you stood to gain

if you'd satisfied me.

Llewellyn!

I couldn't wait.
So I got a new one.

Still getting used to it.

Then you're leaving?

Tomorrow morning.

I thought you wanted to
complete the ride

on your original bicycle.

I did, but I'm wagering
that it will never be found.

If you would just give me
a little more time, I...

I'm sorry.
But I have to finish this.

Can I see you once more?

Of course!

That is why I came by.

- Tonight?
- Of course.

Well, William, the result

of you considering Mr. Caswell's
painting ghastly

is that you didn't
look at it closely enough.

It struck me
when I saw Mr. Denton's work.

Can you see it now?

Just that neither
are particularly good.

That Denton's a bloody copycat.

Not that either of them
are any good.

You may think that, Inspector.

But take a look at this.

Julia!
That may be evidence.

I'm going to show you
that it is evidence.

The thing I found appealing
about Mr. Caswell's work

was his sense of scale
and perspective.

I did find his choice of tones
and colors a little garish.

But when I saw Mr. Denton's work
at the gallery,

I was struck by the similarity.

Well, the dragon lady did say

that Mr. Caswell
changed his style.

It was the reason
she withdrew her patronage.

He did more
than change his style.

After an oil is cured,

it's often finished
with a copal varnish

that will never dissolve.

Mr. Denton did that,
but Mr. Caswell did not.

He stole Mr. Denton's paintings
and painted over them.

He used Mr. Denton's inspiration
to create his landscapes.

But Denton said all
his paintings were destroyed.

Well, we know of
at least one that wasn't.

I think a conversation
is in order.

- Excellent work, Julia.
- Thank you.

I still don't think
either one of them is any good.

Neither do I.

Sour grapes, Mr. Brackenreid?

Hardly.

Losing a patron
of Belinda's quality

I'm sure
is no small financial loss.

As well as other things.

I'm a married man.

She was a married woman,

husband only months
into the ground.

I am already most aware
of what you are now missing.

- You're not in here for that.
- Then why?

Show him.

We found this
beside Mr. Caswell's body.

I suppose
my only question to you is,

when did you learn Mr. Caswell
burned down your studio

and stole your work?

As a fellow artist, I can
understand why you killed him.

I didn't.

Both motive and opportunity
suggest you did.

He did you wrong, sir.

He did.
And he deserved what he got.

All of them were jealous
of my ability,

but I never thought
one of them would go that far.

With the ferocity of the fire,

I imagined
that my work was lost forever.

I was wrong.

He would have never attained
the heights that he did

without my... my guidance,

without my sense of space
and perspective.

They didn't see it, but I did.

There's no mistaking
what I saw.

You can't
just steal a man's soul

and expect to get away with it.

I do have to leave, Llewellyn.

I know.
Watch your step.

As romantic
as a kidnapping can be...

I just want you to leave in
the style you are accustomed to.

- You found it!
- I did indeed.

Oh, this is so joyous.

Thank you.

Yes, I almost
didn't give it to you.

- I found it yesterday.
- Yesterday?

And you didn't tell me?

I thought if I hid it,
you would stay,

but when I saw you ride up,
well,

I knew I couldn't keep you.

No, you couldn't.

Were you really
gonna deny me my dream?

I thought about it, but no.

I would be lying if I didn't
say I'm sorely tempted to stay.

But you can't.

I want to finish this.
I have to finish this.

Of course.

And six months from now,
I will be done, so...

If you would like,

I do think a trip back here
would be a lot quicker.

I would like that.

I'm ready for my portrait,
Mr. Brackenreid.

Oh, uh, Miss Newsome,
not tonight.

I have another model.

You can leave now.

You ready, Margaret?

Are you ready, Thomas?

I still don't like it.

Philistine.

But you won't object
to me hanging it here.

There is something on your mind,
isn't there?

Oh, it's all right
not to like it.

William!

It's not that.
It's...

I want to
try and have a child.

We have been.

And enjoying the attempts.

But I think I found a way
we may succeed.

Oh? How?

I've been working with
an extraordinary woman

who's found a fertility drug

that may enable me
to become pregnant.

But, Julia, I don't want you
putting yourself at risk.

William, I'm not going to.

I know that you would
dearly love a child.

And it is my wifely duty to try
and provide you with one.

No, no.
No, it isn't.

I accepted the possibility
that we may remain childless

when I asked you to marry.

I know.

But I would like to try.

Not just for you, but for me.

As long as it's what you want.

It is.

But I do have to warn you,

it may not be easy for you.

Me?

It does require an increase
in the frequency

of your husbandry duties.

You mean husbandly.

Do I?

Well, for your information,
I believe I am up to the task.

I'm very glad to hear it.

Is there a schedule?

A very full one, I'm afraid.

Well, then, we'd best get to it.