All language subtitles for the.green.man.1956.1080p.bluray.x264-ghouls.eng

Ah, school days.

The happiest days of one's life.

I was a carefree, innocent lad
in those far-off times.

Only one thing
clouded my youthful spirits:

my abominable headmaster.

Really, all I did was to put
an electric charge in his fountain pen

and an explosive in the inkpot.

I honestly only intended to humiliate him.

However, that got rid of him,

and it also disposed of any doubts
I may have had about my true vocation.

Connoisseurs will no doubt recall
my first triumph:

the affair of Alfred Hagenheim.

It is my proud privilege, gentlemen,

to announce a dividend of 150%

on the ordinary shares.

Bravo!

Bravo!

Bravo!

After that,
I went from strength to strength,

but I always applied one rigid principle.

I only accepted assignments
against the so-called great:

those overblown balloons
who just cry out to be popped.

I was glad to offer myself
as a humble pin,

at a reasonable price.

Everyone blamed the referee, of course.

In fact, the more self-important
my victims were,

the greater my joy, so to speak,
in making the punishment fit the crime,

And in 1939,
I achieved my supreme masterpiece.

On the duration of the war, I retired.
The competition was too fierce.

I became a clockmaker,
happily restoring antique clocks

until, one day, through an exiled friend
from the Levent,

I obtained what promised to be
a most exhilarating assignment.

Sir Gregory Upshott, Bart.
Merchant, banker, and politician.

I spent, I suppose, some of the best years
of my life in the Middle East,

a great many of them in the territory

which is the object
of my forthcoming visit.

As a youthful Orientalist...

How boring
these public figures usually are.

I could scarcely have managed
to keep awake at all

but for the knowledge
that I was listening.

These certain parties in the Middle East
were determined

that Sir Gregory
should never, never get there.

If the right kind of investment

can buttress the forces
of law and order there,

then I shall return home a happy man,
perhaps to retire.

- No, no.
- Yes, yes.

-No.
-Yes.

To retire, to disappear,

this time, finally, from the public scene.

If I can help to bring about
a new settlement...

-Hello. Everything all right?
-All right, Mr Margate.

-Thirty bob, all told.
-Thank you.

I played it back. The quality's okay.

-Dull speaker though, isn't he?
-Yes, he is a bit, isn't he?

Now that there's a lot in here to interest
my Middle East customers. Goodbye.

Goodbye, Mr Margate.

Next, for the final call on Marigold.

Marigold was Sir Gregory's secretary.

At the cost of a small bag of breadcrumbs,

I had contrived
a scrape acquaintance with her

while feeding the ducks in St James' Park.

Ah, dear Marigold,

spinning dizzily
from my masterful approach,

had already told me that Sir Gregory
was slipping off that weekend

to a hotel called The Green Man
at Newcliffe,

and that he would not be unaccompanied.

It only remained for me
to garner the last-minute details.

Oh, Harry! It's an engagement ring.

Oh, it's beautiful.

-Permit me, my dear.
-Oh!

Oh, I can hardly believe it.

Just think, in three weeks' time,
I shall be Mrs Hastings.

Mrs Harry Hastings.

She had a sharp eye for scandal,
and I had no difficulty at all

in obtaining the final details
of Sir Gregory's movements

from then until his departure
for The Green Man.

I've spotted her.

-Which one?
-The fourth from the left.

That's right. That's Joan.
How did you guess?

I'd know Sir Gregory's type anywhere.

And he's picking it up in Tooting
on his way down there.

Outside Woolworth at 7:00.

Oh, no, not outside Woolworth at 7:00.

How on earth
do you find out these things?

Well, I can't shut my eyes and ears
to everything, can I?

Sir Gregory's back. I'll have to go.

-Tomorrow.
-Yes, tomorrow.

Hello, Mrs Bostock.

Mr Hastings,
the police sergeant's here, sir.

-Eh?
-Sergeant Bassett, sir.

Of course, this is Friday.

I'd forgotten all about him.
Is he...

-Yes, I put him in there, sir.
-Is McKechnie still here?

He's been here since lunchtime
working on that magistrate's clock.

Ah, yes, that magistrate's clock.

-Hello, Sergeant.
-Good evening, sir.

-Look, I hope I haven't kept you waiting.
-Ah, you've not kept me waiting, sir.

I just want a quick word with my mechanic,

so by the time you've put out the board
and set out the men, I'll be with you.

-How are you?
-Fine, thank you, sir.

Good, good. I'll be with you in a moment.

I thought you'd have finished that
hours ago.

It takes time.

Nobody's going to look at it
through a microscope.

Anything that's worth doing
is worth doing well.

You know, it's that fearsome combination
of eager beaver and Scots non-conformist

that makes your company
so hard to bear, Angus.

We won't have to put up
with each other much longer.

Here, protect the machine,

and I'll be back to time it
as soon as I get rid of Sergeant Bassett.

You've not got him here tonight?

Well, as a matter of fact, I have.

To tell you the truth,
I forgot all about him.

But to calm your fears, Angus,
I'll let him checkmate me in five minutes.

Right, Sergeant.

Yes, of course.
You're white this time, aren't you?

Yes, sir.

Let me see.

Right.

Sorry, Sergeant.

- Hello?
- Harry?

I must see you at once.

Oh, must you?

Look, just hold on a minute, will you?

Harry? Harry!

Sergeant.

It's a darling old menace
of an aunt of mine.

She's in a terrible flap because--

I think I better talk to her upstairs.
Please excuse me.

Don't mind me, sir.

Just hold on the merest jiffy, my dear,
and I'll be with you.

Harry-- Harry?

Harry?

-Oh, dear, dear. Oh, yes.
-Harry? Harry?

Yes, this is what she wants.

Have you moved, Sergeant?
Yes, I see you have.

Well, there's something
for you to think about.

I won't be a moment.

Harry? Harry!

-Harry!
-Now, then, my dear.

I want you to tell me
why you were making notes about--

about Sir Gregory's movements tonight.

What?

What was that, my love?
I-- I don't quite follow.

There happened to be a loose carbon
amongst the typing paper

and it came through.

What? Came through?
One moment, my heart's delight.

Harry!

Harry, tell me.

Harry!

Yes, my love. Now, what were you saying?

I've got the copy in my hand now.

Yes, so have-- Have you really?

I can't help thinking,
ever since we first met...

you've been pumping me about Sir Gregory.

Listen, my angel heart,
you're being fanciful.

Why on earth should I want
to do a thing like that?

It's been happening ever since
that first day in St James' Park

when my breadcrumbs ran out.

Light of my heart,

how can you say a thing like that
and in a tone like that?

I was delighted
when your breadcrumbs ran out

because it gave me an opportunity
of talking to you, Marigold.

Then why did you make those notes
about Sir Gregory?

There is an explanation.

Well, what?

Hmm...

But don't you see,
I'd much rather believe you than--

than go to the police.

The police?

You must be joking, Marigold,
and not in the best of taste.

What can our little courtship have to do
with the London constabulary?

Harry, I've got to see you.
I'm coming down to see you.

Yes, do that. Do that, my love,
and I'll set your fears at rest.

Shall we say lunch tomorrow?

I can't wait. I just couldn't rest.

I'm leaving at once.
The house is Windyridge, isn't it?

Yes, yes, Windyridge, but my--

Marigold?

Sergeant.

This is terrible.
Auntie's gone and got herself

into a frightful state
over nothing at all.

But now she's insisting
on coming round here to see me.

Well, it won't take long
to finish the game, sir.

I've thought up a couple of moves
that are gonna baffle you.

Er, she won't be here
for a few minutes, will she?

No, no, no. We've time for this game, eh?

-But if you don't mind, just the one.
-Hmm.

Now...

what am I to do?

Wait a minute.

Of course.

That's what I'll do.

-Sergeant?
-Hmm?

With all this excitement,
I've forgotten the drinks.

Carry on, Sergeant.

Oh, Mrs Bostock,
I shan't want you any more this evening.

No, no, you can go now, if you like.

Oh, thank you, sir.

-That's right. Off you go.
-Thank you.

There's nothing to worry about.
The place is empty.

-They haven't moved in yet.
-But supposing Marigold--

Engage in conversation
and then do just as I told you.

Hurry up. Hurry up.

Well, well, well. Here we are again.

Pretty chime that clock's got, sir.
You make it yourself?

Yes, Sergeant. It's a Marie-Antoinette.

And now came the turning point
of my story.

When Fate takes a hand,

she sometimes chooses
the meanest instruments for her purpose.

A hot cinder unseated
William the Conqueror.

A surfeit of lampreys
polished off King John.

I collected a stray non-entity
called William Blake.

-Thank you, sir.
-Huh?

-Good evening, Mr Bostock.
-Huh?

Just as I go to knock at the door,
you open it.

Eh, telepathy.
I'm glad we're on the same beam.

Oh, the drawing room, I take it?

Hey! Come back here.

Just moving in, I see. Ideal.

Who are you? What are you doing here?

-I have an appointment with Mrs Bostock.
-Eh?

Windyridge, Hilcot Road, correct?

She must've forgotten.

Oh, but she arranged
a demonstration with me.

She saw our latest model on the TV,
sprang to the telephone, and here I am.

I represent
The Little wizard of the Carpet.

Here, my card.

Uh, vacuum cleaner, eh?

I'm very sorry. I'm extremely busy today.

This is just the machine for the busy man.

The whole thing assembles in 25 seconds.

If I can get it out...

I... said I'm busy.

Oh, uh, may I explain?

The ordinary cleaner sweeps as it cleans.

The superior cleaner
beats as it sweeps as it cleans,

but the electro-broom,
The Little wizard of the Carpet,

it disinfects as it beats
as it sweeps as it cleans,

thanks to our new inbuilt
germicidal deodorant.

I'm sure Mrs Bostock
will see you tomorrow.

Oh, perhaps you'd like to read
this pamphlet.

It gives five unreasonable answers of--

unanswerable reasons, I mean,
of why you should choose our machine.

I'm not interested.

-Oh, but you just said Mrs Bostock--
-I don't care what I said.

I'm not interested.

At times like this,
I say to myself,

what would be the point of having learned
to overcome sales resistance

if there were no sales resistance
to overcome?

How long will you be here?

The electro-broom is noted

for its extreme ease
and rapidity of assembly.

How long?

In fact, the whole thing assembles itself.
When you understand it.

I've only been at this job a week.

-How long?
-How long? Five minutes.

I-- I've got a crate to unpack.
I-- I'll be back.

Oh, right, fine.
Right you are, Mr Bostock.

No need to fear for your brand-new
house rug, Mr Bostock.

Ten seconds and it's in the bag.

Point, point.

This reminds me of the classic story,
Mr Bostock,

of the vacuum cleaner salesman
who smothered a new carpet with soot

and then actually found
there was no electricity laid on.

Mr Bostock, why didn't you tell me
there was no elec--

Mr Bostock?

Yeah.

Oh!

Who are you? What are you doing here?

I represent
The Little wizard of the Carpet.

You asked me to call.
Six o'clock, remember?

I did?

You are Mrs Bostock, aren't you?

No.

Oh, then you wouldn't know.
I made an appointment with Mrs Bostock.

Who's Mrs Bostock?

Don't you know?

I've never heard of her in my life.

She asked me to call
and demonstrate a vacuum cleaner.

I'm afraid you've come to the wrong house.

But I took down the address. Windyridge.

This is Appleby.

Oh, I see what's happened.
You've come to the wrong house.

Don't be silly.
Do you think I don't know my own house?

-Your house?
-Of course.

Are you sure? I mean, all the houses
in this road are pretty much alike.

Look here, I live here.

At least, I shall start doing so
next month.

This is our furniture, our carpet--

Oh!

Are you responsible for this?

Well, only indirectly.

You see, I was going
to give a demonstration,

but there was no electricity.

You've ruined my house rug!

Oh, that'll be perfectly all right,
but are you sure?

I mean, absolutely sure?
I'm certain I saw Windyridge.

That's easily settled.
The name's hanging over the door.

Yes, I noticed that as I came in.

Exactly. Appleby.

Apart from the fact
that the customer's always right,

I very much dislike
having to prove a lady wrong,

especially on so short an acquaintance.

-Get a brush. Sweep it up.
-Hmm.

Oh, I see. I've walked
right into the trap, haven't I?

Hmm?

Well done, my dear fellow.
It's a masterpiece.

-I should have resigned long ago.
-What?

-Obviously, now I have no alternative.
-What?

Well, look at my king. It's en prise.
My rook's smothered by your bishop.

My queen is trapped.
There's nothing I can do, nothing at all.

It's obviously mate in eight moves.

-Mate in eight moves?
-Mate in eight, Sergeant. Congratulations.

I'm awfully glad we had time
for that one game.

It really was superbly thought out.

Well, as a matter of fact, sir,
it did take a bit of concentration.

-It surely did.
-Oh, just a moment, sir. My matches, sir.

Got a match? I've got a match.

At least I think I... I'm sure I had them.

Oh, here we are, Sergeant.
You've got a light.

Ah.

You blunder into the wrong house.

You don't even bother to find out
if the electricity's on.

If I had any sense,
I'd call in the police.

My gosh, I forgot. You should.

What are you talking about?

Blood.

What?

There's some more on the piano stool.

-Are you certain?
-Yes.

But it can't be. Not here.

Not in Turnham Green.

Well, murders have to happen somewhere.

Murder?

Oh, no.

I'm sure there's some
perfectly simple explanation.

-There always is.
-Maybe.

But supposing I was right and it did say
"Windyridge" on this house.

Supposing somebody changed the names over.

-But why?
-To decoy the victim here.

The victim, if there is one,
intended to call at Windyridge.

Somebody made the change.

Probably the man who let me in.

Yes.

Somebody must have let you in.

Yes, somebody did.
A paunchy sort of man with glasses.

But why should he choose
this particular house?

Unless it's because
we haven't moved in yet.

"We"?

-Myself and my fiancé.
-Ah.

We shan't be living here
until after our wedding.

-How refreshing.
-What?

Yeah, I mean--
Well, it's quiet here, isn't it?

-You're not suggesting--
-I'm not suggesting anything, but--

Oughtn't we to look?

I think we should.
Are the rooms upstairs furnished?

Next Friday, as usual, Sergeant.

-Yes, indeed.
-Wonderful game.

Thank you. Wonderful game there.

Wonderful.

No bride in the bath, that's a relief.

-Let's try the bedrooms.
-All right.

A child of ten could have understood
what I asked you to do.

You simply had to slip the stuff
into Marigold's drink.

She wouldn't take any refreshment.

So you hit her in the head.

- If my best isn't good enough for you--
-Your best?

It's a wonder you didn't hit him
in the head.

Why couldn't you buy his vacuum cleaner
and get rid of him?

-I gave it my serious consideration.
-You panicked!

Now we're in the ludicrous position
of having a--

having a vacuum cleaner salesman
on our hands, as well as a girl.

And a fellow who looks as though
he's come about the insurance.

Must be the new occupant.
He can't be from the police.

Anyway, I'm going down
to time that recording.

You get upstairs and pack those bags
and don't leave anything lying around.

Ann?

-You hear something?
-Yes.

Ann?

Reginald!

Ann, what on earth are you doing
under the bed?

Oh, Reginald, you're just in time.

Just in time? What are you talking about--

May I explain, sir?

Ann, what the devil's all this?

Who is this fellow, and what are you doing
under the bed with him?

Well, I came here
to demonstrate a vacuum cleaner.

-Under the bed?
-Well, we have attachments to cover that.

We were only hiding, Reginald.

-From me?
-No, him.

-Who?
-Mr Bostock.

Yeah, not that he really is
Mr Bostock, of course.

- Because it's the wrong house.
- That's right.

But whoever it was,
we think he did it.

Did what? Have you gone out of your mind?

Reginald, there's been a murder.

Murder? Where?

-Here, we think.
-Oh, rot.

But how can you say that
when you haven't even heard his story?

Ann, please.
Exactly what is your story now?

-Well--
-This is my fiancée,

-Reginald Willoughby-Cruft.
-Yes.

-I don't know your name.
-William Blake. How do you do?

-How do you do?
-I'm Ann Vincent.

- How do you do?
- Well?

Well, we believe the name of this house
has been changed with that of Windyridge

to decoy the victim here, hence the blood.

Blood? Where?

-Downstairs, on the carpet.
-Downstairs, on the carpet.

-There.
-And there's some more on the piano stool.

And that's not all, Reginald.
He found a man here.

Pretending to be Mr Bostock.

He wasn't actually Mr Bostock, of course,

because the real Mr Bostock
would be Mrs Bostock's husband,

if she has one alive,

which naturally we don't know
as we've never met her,

but she might have, in which case,

there would be two of them,
but only one real one.

I really can't bring myself to ask you
to say that all over again, Ann.

-This is not yours, I take it?
-No.

-What are you going to do, Reginald?
-Nothing at all.

I've never heard such howling nonsense.

These things simply do not happen,
Mr Blake.

No?
Don't you ever read the newspapers?

In my position,
that's scarcely necessary.

Reginald is an announcer on the BBC.

I thought your voice was familiar.

The explanation is perfectly simple.

Is that your car
parked beyond the bus stop?

-Yes.
-There you are, you see.

You saw Windyridge above
the house next door as you drove up,

then you walked back down the road
into the wrong house.

-But I'm absolutely--
-Ann, who would have been in this house,

aged somewhere between 30 and 40,
middle-sized,

and lines his hat
with a copy of Exchange and Mart?

Now think carefully, Ann.
What does that suggest to you?

-Hackett.
-Precisely.

Our charwoman's husband.

I gave him the job of unpacking
some of our glassware.

So you did.

He probably cut himself,
bled on the carpet,

then you arrived
and caught him red-handed.

Directly, your back was turned,
he cleared oft.

Reginald, you're marvellous.
You really are.

In future, Mr Blake, remember to look
for the obvious explanation first.

And now, if Mr Blake is quite satisfied,

I think we need not detain him any longer.

Before I go, I wonder if I could ask you
one small favour.

I-- I have here the electro-broom,
The Little wizard of the Carpet.

I'm sorry.
I'm afraid we're not interested.

Ah, but no newly-married couple
can afford to be without it.

Picture it.

The electro-broom's gentle, soothing hum

will drift upwards to the nursery
like a lullaby,

bringing soft slumber to the little
tousled heads upon the pillow.

-Mr Blake...
-In the years to come, of course.

...kindly remove yourself
and your apparatus.

Reginald, I do think we might
at least listen to him. After all--

Thank you. Now, the ordinary cleaner
sweeps as it cleans--

Oh, confound it. I have to be back
at Broadcasting House by 8:00.

The superior cleaner beats--

I had hoped to hang some pictures tonight,
but there's no time now.

I'll do it when you've gone.

Why no, actually,
I know exactly how I want them.

But the electro-broom,
The Little wizard of the Carpet,

disinfects as it beats as it sweeps--

There can't be more than one or two ways
of hanging pictures.

-Disinfects...
-That just shows your complete unawareness

-of these things, darling.
-...as it beats-- Can I help?

They'll have to wait, Ann.

-But Mr Blake has kindly offered to help.
-And I have refused.

Thanks to our new inbuilt germicidal deo--

I meant, if you didn't go now,
you'd be late.

You seem very anxious to be rid of me.

But you just said
you had to be going.

Is that the only reason?

-What are you suggesting?
-I don't think I need particularise.

Take that back at once.

Certainly,
when you've got rid of this fellow.

I'll do nothing of the kind.

I see. Yes, I see quite clearly now.

-Where are you going, Reginald?
-I'm going back to Broadcasting House.

I now realise the true significance

of that little scene
that greeted my entrance. Goodbye.

How dare you, Reginald!

How dare you say a thing like that to me?

-Hello?
-He's just leaving.

-Who?
-The man from the insurance.

If you hadn't come here,
none of this would have happened.

-I'm sorry. I never intended--
-I don't know why I listened

to your cock-and-bull story
in the first place.

What are you going to do?

I'm going to catch Reginald
before he reaches the station.

Look here. I don't want to interfere.

You won't again.

When I get back, I expect to find you gone

and my house rug cleaned up,
do you understand?

-Yes?
-She's gone now.

Murder. Murder, murder. Police.

Telephone. Telephone.

Yes, what is it?

The vacuum cleaner's skipping it now.

He's going down the street.

He's not. He's going back next door.

No, he's not.

He's...

He's coming in here!

He's coming in here!

He's at the front door. He's coming in.

All right, pull yourself together.
This is our chance.

I'll keep him talking while you slip
next door and fetch Marigold.

Murder! Telephone!

-What are you saying? Whose murder?
-Murder. A woman.

-What woman?
-A woman. Telephone. Next door.

-Next door?
-Next door. Dial 999.

-Are you absolutely sure?
-Telephone. Telephone.

-Are you absolutely sure?
-Yes, yes, yes. Telephone.

-We must phone the police.
-Yes, yes.

Yes, of course, the telephone.
The telephone.

-Here.
-Wait.

-I found it.
-You're in no fit state to telephone.

Please, please,
sit down and compose yourself.

-Dial 999.
-I'll dial 999. Of course I will.

You know, it's extraordinary.

Do you know that
Police Sergeant Bassett has just left?

He's just left a few minutes ago.

He was sitting there.
He was sitting there playing--

-Dial 999.
-Of course I'll dial 999.

Now please, please, sit down.

I just thought it would be quicker
if I caught the sergeant at the station.

Yes, he'll be on duty by now.
Now, wait a minute. Wait a minute.

-What's the number?
-999.

No, no, I mean the number
of the police station.

Turnham Green. Turnham Green.

2412. That's it.

Turnham Green.

2412.

Where did you say it happened?

Next door. Appleby.

-Next door?
-Yes.

Next door? Hello? Hello? Police?

Oh, is Sergeant Bassett there yet?

Sergeant? Oh, thank goodness you're there.

Sergeant, you've got to come back at once.
A most dreadful thing has happened.

There's a young man here
who's found a body.

-Next door.
-Appleby.

-What?
-Appleby.

-Appleby--
-The house.

-Oh, the name of the house is Appleby.
-Appleby.

Yes, yes.
Yes, of course, of course, Sergeant.

Thank you.

It's all right, it's all right.
He's coming. He's coming right away.

And by the way, he says that you mustn't
touch anything, nothing at all.

My poor fellow, you must have had
a really dreadful shock.

Well, I did.

Imagine opening a piano
and seeing a thing like that.

A piano?

He put her inside a pia--

Are you telling me that whoever killed her
put her inside a pianoforte?

Thank you. That's right.

You see, Miss Vincent and I--

Oh, Miss Vincent's the girl
who's going to come live next door.

Just a moment.

This young lady, you haven't--
you haven't left her there now alone?

Oh, no. No, no.
No, she'd gone before I found it.

Thank goodness for that.

Why?

Well, I mean to say, she might have had
a most frightful shock.

-Oh, yes.
-Oh, yes. Please, please, go on.

Well, you see,
I'm a vacuum cleaner salesman.

I had an appointment
with Mrs Bostock of Windyridge.

No, wait a minute.

Isn't this Windyridge?

Mmm? Oh, yes.

This is Windyridge, all right,
and Mrs Bostock's my housekeeper.

But I'd no idea
that she'd made any appointment.

Were you expecting anyone tonight?

Mmm? No. No, nobody at all,
except, of course, the sergeant.

What are you insinuating?

I believe the woman who was killed
was coming here.

What? What makes you say
a thing like that?

-How dare you say that?
-I think she was decoyed next door.

That's preposterous!

Why should anyone wish to decoy
any visitor that I might be expecting?

I've never heard...

-Unless...
-Yes?

Now wait a minute.

-What?
-Hmm?

Oh, it's probably nonsense,

but supposing somebody knew
that the sergeant was here playing chess

and that somebody wanted to stop her...

From seeing him.

-Yes.
-Yes.

Could it be?

That's a possibility.

We must remember to ask the sergeant that
as soon as he arrives.

-Yes.
-Yes.

He-- He might even recognise her.

Yes.

Oh, by the way, the young lady next door,
might be she come back?

Yes, I suppose she might.

Oh, you mean, you think
someone ought to be there?

Well, I-- It's just a thought
that if she saw what you saw--

-Oh, gosh.
-Please don't think I'm trying

-to send you back there alone.
-Oh, no, no, no.

I say, wait.

Don't forget what the sergeant said.
Don't touch anything.

Oh, no, I won't.

Thank you.

Oh, here she is.

-What are you going to do with her?
-What am I going to do with her?

You are going to put her into your car

and leave her in some isolated spot
of your own choice.

Now here's your--

-You hid her inside a piano.
-Aye.

It was the only convenient place
I could find that was adjacent.

Here.

The match broadcast tonight.

How do you know that Upshott'll go
anywhere near the thing?

Oh, he'll be near it, all right.

Nobody's fonder
of the sound of his own voice

than Sir Gregory Upshott, Bart.

if the right kind of investment

can buttress the forces
of law and order there...

-Ah.
-...then I shall return home a happy man.

Now we're nearing the moment
that especially tickled my fancy.

Yes, to retire, to disappear,
this time, finally,

from the public scene.

And so he will, bless his old heart,
at that highly appropriate moment.

Now let us see if five or three are right.

It's at 10:23, precisely.

What on earth are you doing?

I don't want to have to disturb her.

-In case I have a puncture.
-You're not putting her in there.

Uh-huh.

She was my fiancée.

She'll be as comfortable here
as anywhere else.

I'll be glad
when our association terminates.

Collect the bags from the house
and get out of here as fast as you can.

I'll see you in the Folkestone boat
in the morning.

Aye.

Get out!

Oh, I'm so sorry.
I didn't know you were back.

The police are on their way here now,
Miss Vincent.

What?

There's the body of a woman here.

-Where?
-In the piano.

No, I don't believe it. You're lying.

It can easily be proved.

-But Reginald explained it away.
-Well, go and look.

I certainly will.

You'll get a shock.

It's not a very pleasant sight.

How do you know she was murdered?

Well, people don't usually commit suicide
in a boudoir grand.

I suppose not.

You really are telling the truth,
aren't you?

No, I-- I believe you.

But how did the murderer get in here?

-The door was locked.
-Through the French window.

He waited till she rang
and then showed her in.

-Yes?
-And if the fellow next door was right,

she would have asked
for the police sergeant.

-Oh, surely she'd have--
-Well, look, I'll show you.

I'm him. You're her.

Now, carefully seating her
with her back to the door,

he-- he leaves the room
with a-- with a disarming smile.

Reginald!

He's left the manuscript
of his poem behind.

Now, as I see it, quietly,
he re-enters the room.

Reginald's got to read this tonight
on the ham service.

-Well, he's bound to have another copy.
-I don't think he has.

Oh, he's probably learned it by heart.

He can't have. It's a modern poem.

Well, he can make it up
as he goes along, then.

Look, do try and concentrate.
I'm trying to reconstruct the crime.

Now, all this time, he's been--
he's been getting nearer and nearer,

and then he leans over
and suddenly puts his hand on--

Ann!

Oh, Reginald, I found your poem.

I was simply conducting
an experiment with your fiancée.

Oh, Reginald, someone's been murdered.

-The body's in the piano.
-It was a woman, Reginald.

She was battered from behind
with her mouth shut.

What you hope to gain from this,
I can't imagine.

I can only say, Ann, that you've shown me
a side of your nature

that I never dreamed existed.

How dare you speak to me like that
in front of a stranger?

A stranger, huh?

- I say, look here--
-Shut up!

I enter my own house to discover you
under the bed with this fellow.

Later, I return to find the position
so far deteriorated

that you're rolling about the floor
with him in your underwear.

Should I be so foolish
as to return yet again,

I shudder to think--

Why did I ever believe
such a mad, idiotic story?

But I tell you, I saw a woman's arm.

I--

My poem.

-His poem.
-I want it.

-He wants it.
-Take it.

Yeah, take it, and put your heart into it.

By heaven, I'd thrash the life out of you

if I didn't have to read
the nine o'clock news.

But why should I tell you I saw her
if I didn't?

And why should I telephone the... police?

Yes, why aren't they here?

Yes, why aren't they?

Because you didn't phone them.

I didn't.

-You didn't?
-No, the fellow next door did.

Wait a minute.

Supposing he only pretended
to make that call.

Supposing he wanted to keep me there
while someone else...

Yeah-- Yes, of course. Wait a minute.

Stop it, do you hear? Stop it.

I'm going upstairs to dress,

and if you haven't removed yourself
when I come down,

I'll phone the police myself.

I don't ever want to see you again.

-Quick, get some brandy.
-We haven't any.

Well, whisky, anything.

Is she the woman?

She must be. Hurry up.

-There's only a drop.
-It's all right. Quickly.

-Is she going to be all right?
-I think so.

She's coming round.

It's all right. It's all right.
You're quite safe now.

Ask her how she got in the piano.

Got to stop them.

Who?

Sir Gregory. I must warn him.

Sir Gregory?

Upshott. I work for him.

Time... what's the time?

It's going to go oft at 10:28.

What is?

They're going to kill him.
I heard them say 10:28.

It's going to go oft at 10:28.

What's going off at 10:23?

"Shall return home a happy man...

perhaps to retire...

disappear, this time, finally,

from the public scene."

Hey, try and pull yourself together.
Here you are.

We'll send for the police.

It's too late.

You've got to warn him.
He's gone to the coast.

He's using another name.

Yeah, well, where has he gone?

To... The Green Man...

The Green Man, yes.

Green Man at New...

New.

-New...
-New what?

No.

Oh, she's gone right oft now.

-Have you any coffee?
-Yes.

Well, make some. Good and strong.

In my opinion, she's out for the count
for at least a couple of hours.

What are we going to do, then?

Have you got an AA book?

Reginald has somewhere. Why?

I'm gonna look up The Green Man at New--

Exactly. New where?

Well, there can't be many News.
And we'll see whether there's a Green Man.

What are you going to do, phone them?

Oh. She said he's using a different name,
and we don't know what that is.

Then how can it help
to look up The Green Man?

I'm going to drive down there.

Well, don't you think
it'd be more sensible to tell the police?

What, the thing we collect
after Sir Gregory Upshott,

who was staying at The Green Man
at New whatsit

and the something or other's
going up at 10:23?

Can you imagine what they'd say?

We've got an unconscious woman
to show them.

Yes, they'd probably think
we hit her on the head.

-Here it is.
-Oh, good.

N... N... N.

Here we are. She said something
about the coast, didn't she?

-New Brighton?
-No, that's Cheshire.

-What about Newbury?
-No, that's not on the coast.

That leaves Newcliffe.

Here we are. The Green Man.
Twelve stars, two beds.

Twelve beds, two stars. London, 55 miles.

Oh, look, Newhaven.
That's got a Green Man too.

One star, five beds.
Not up to Sir Gregory, if I know him.

Map six.

-Oh, by the way, do you?
-Here we are.

-What?
-Know Sir Gregory.

Why, I know of him.
I saw something in the paper

about the government sending him out
to the Middle East.

Oh, you mean someone's trying to stop him?

If what she says is true.

You've got a phone!

Reginald naturally has priority.

Hello, is that the BBC?

Can I speak to Mr Willoughby-Cruft,
please?

What are you going to tell him?

That we're going down to Newhaven.

Newcliffe. And you're not going.

-Hello, is that you, Reginald?
-l assume you've rung up to apologise.

-You are not going--
-No, I haven't rung up to apologise.

It's something much more important.

-There was a body in the piano.
-Not when I--

-I know, but it came back.
-Poppycock.

But it's not poppycock.
It's terribly serious.

We're going down to The Green Man

-at New--
-Cliff.

-Newcliffe.
-But you are not going.

That could only have one interpretation.

Reginald, I am not going with him
for the night.

We're simply going--

He's hung up.

I'm going to dress.

Listen, if what she says is true,
it might be very dangerous.

Marvellous. I shan't be a minute.

What are we going to do with her?

We can't take her with us,
and we can't leave her here.

If you'd stop here, it'll solve that.

I'm not staying in the house alone.

Why don't you phone the doctor?

Reginald's written the number of one
just inside the directory.

I'll bet he has.

And an optician and a chemist
and a prenatal clinic.

-What?
-I said all right. I'll phone the doctor.

Tell him what's happened and that
we'll leave the door open for him.

All right, open, please.

Uh... Ah...

Hello? Who? Where?

Hilcot Road. Can you come round
at once, please, Doctor?

There's a woman here with a head injury.

Is she registered with me
under the National Health Scheme?

I don't know. She only came around
for a couple of seconds,

and that wasn't one of the questions
that sprang readily to mind.

-The point is, Doctor--
-Tell him you found her in the piano.

The point is, Doctor,
she's in need of medical attention.

My point is that I have a crowded surgery,

and she may very well be registered
with another doctor in the district.

Look, Doctor,
forget the National Health Scheme.

This is an emergency.

Look, if you'll come round right away,

I'll leave an emergency fee
on the mantelpiece.

What did you say the address was?

-Room number nine, sir.
-Thank you.

The porter'll be here in a minute, sir.

Thank you very much.

Can I take your bag, sir?

No, no, no, I'll look after that.

I'd like to leave my hat and coat
down here, though.

Very good, sir.

If you'll leave them here,
I'll look after them for you.

Thank you very much.

-You got your key, sir?
-Yes. Number nine.

Very good, sir.

This way, please.

-Charlie!
-Lily.

Mmm.

-How's my beautiful gal?
-I'd almost given you up.

Had a lot of trouble getting away.

What do you think of her?
Smashing little Bel Air.

Oh, it's lovely, isn't it?

Yeah. I, uh-- I told the memsahib

I was taking it out of Walton-on-the-Naze
to show a customer.

Oh, did she believe you?

Ah, hard to say, though she's been
behaving very mysteriously just lately.

How do you mean?

You know, pools of silence
broken only by the odd vitriolic ripple.

After all, Charlie, you have been married
for 15 years, haven't you?

Yeah, I know, Lily, but this is different.

You know,
she keeps on making cryptic remarks

and then going into a huddle with her mum.

Oh, I shouldn't take any notice of her.

Well, you know what it is.
Undertones, always undertones.

And I can't put my finger on it,

but I've got a queer idea
I'm being followed.

Oh, Charlie, you're imagining things.

Maybe.

I've given you the single room
on the top floor.

Are you serious?

You're making things easier
for yourself, aren't you?

Oh, Charlie, you are dreadful.

Come, give us a kiss. Huh?

Good evening.

Oh, hello, girls. How are you? All right?

Always the same, wherever you go.

Never a porter when you want one
at these seaside hotels.

You think we should try somewhere else?

Whatever for?

I booked here.

I know.

Joan, dear,
you're worrying quite unnecessarily.

All you gotta do is behave normally.

Oh, dear.

The catch doesn't work.
I should have told you before.

I thought something like this
would happen.

Couldn't be helped.

I know I'm going to let you down,
Sir Gregory.

Of course you won't.

Just try and be a little more carefree.

Come along, now. Smile. Just a little one.

That's better.

Good evening, sir.

Good evening.

Have you reserved a room, sir?

Yes, of course. I rang up last Tuesday.

Would you mind signing the register, sir?

After we've had a drink, landlord.

We've travelled all the way from London.

Of course, sir.
The bar's just around the corner.

Thank you.

Come along, my dear.
We'll have a cocktail, shall we?

Leave it!

Oh, dear.

The catch doesn't work.
I should've told you before.

Don't bother with it, my dear.
Let them do it.

We'll-- we'll be back in a minute or two.

Now what are you going to have, my dear?
White Lady, Sidecar?

Can I-- Can I have a Velvet Venus?

Have you a Velvet Venus?

We have, sir.

And a dry Martini for me, please.

I really think
you might take that hat off, my dear.

This is awful. I'm sure they suspect.

Nonsense. All you have to do
is behave a little more nonchalantly.

But I don't feel nonchalant.

Then try to act it.

After all, you were really quite good

in our Corporation Dramatic Society's
production of Little Women.

But it wasn't the same sort of part.

My dear Joan,
you were your own sweet self,

and all I ask now is--

Six and sixpence please, sir.

Dinner's being served now, sir.
Can I send a waiter in with a menu?

Kitchen closes at 10:00.
Catering Act, you know.

Oh, very well.

Thank you, sir.

Dinner being served now, sir.

Kitchen closes at 10:00.
Catering Act, you know.

No, I've already eaten, thank you.

Just a few letters to write and then bed.

-Allow me, sir.
-Oh, thank you.

Always have an orchestra
on the weekend, sir.

Sort of livens things up.

I'm sure.

But suppose someone recognises you?

What, in a dump-- in an out-of-the-way
place like this and in my country tweeds?

You look just the same to me.

That's just because you know me.

But they might see your Bentley outside.

My dear girl,
Bentleys are ten a penny in the city.

Every one of my directors has one.
Even some of the shareholders.

Listen, try and look upon this
as a gay adventure.

Excuse me. Are you the couple
who wanted to see the menu?

Ah, yes.
Let's see what they have to offer.

I have very quite an appetite.

What's this? Brown Windsor soup and what?

Chopped toad?

Chopped toad?

I ask you, is there any other country
in the world

that would attempt to start
the gastric juices flowing

with the repellent words, "chopped toad"?

We really are
the most extraordinary nation.

-I see you have galantine of chicken.
-Yes, sir.

More galantine than chicken,
I have no doubt.

Yes, sir.

Well, I'll take a chance.
What about you, my dear?

I'd like the chopped toad, please.

Bravo.

Bravo, ladies. Bravo.

I don't think I've ever heard a trio
play with such brio.

No, no, no, I'm absolutely sincere.

In fact, I was wondering whether,
after that perfect andantino,

I might offer you a little vino.

-Oh, thank you. Yes. Yes.
-You will? Oh, good, good.

I'll leave the register here, sir.

There's no hurry.

Thank you.

-Just a formality, my dear.
-What are you going to put?

Well, let's think of something original,
shall we?

What about some writer?
What about Reade, Charles Reade?

I've never heard of him.

Famous Victorian novelist, my dear.
He wrote it ls Never Too Late to Mend.

Oh, well,
nobody ever reads him nowadays.

-What's the matter now?
-Nothing.

Good evening.

Now, then, ladies...

Please, my dear.

People will only look at you.

That's that.

Now, my dear, perhaps you'd like to dally
with the chopped toad.

Oh, yes, please.

- Thank you, Mr Ramsgate.
- Come along, my dear.

-Thank you very much.
-Thank you.

-There you go.
-Lovely.

Penelope and Felicity.

Now wait a minute. I want something clear.
Do you really mean to tell me

that Felicity here and Annabel
have only been with you since June?

Oh, that's right.

It seems incredible. I could have sworn
you'd played together for years.

Felicity was at Eastbourne last year,

-and Annabel at Budleigh Salterton.
-Oh, don't.

Oh, ladies, will you excuse me one moment?

I-- I've left my case in the lounge.
It has some confidential papers in it.

But I'll be back in one moment,
so don't you move.

-Don't you dare move.
-Oh, no.

-Awfully charming.
-Yes.

I wonder who he is.

Confidential papers.

Perhaps he's an enquiry agent.

Whatever could there be
to enquire about here?

Oh, but what's all this?

Back to the plough, I'm afraid.

Oh, no. What a pity.

-But when do you finish?
-Eleven o'clock.

Eleven o'clock? Oh, dear.

As late as that?

Oh, well, but surely you can slip out
and have a drink with me before then.

-We'd be delighted, wouldn't we?
-Oh, yes.

-You promise?
-Mm-hmm.

-Good.
-Naturally.

Thank you.

How are you going to start?

Ask for the register.
Make sure Sir Gregory's here first.

-Oh, good evening.
-Good evening. Is that clock right?

Oh, yes, it's always right
Friday nights, sir.

-Why Friday?
-Could I have it?

-Well, it loses ten minutes every week...
-Could I have it?

...so the landlord puts it on ten minutes
every Friday night.

So, by the end of the week,
it's back again with Big Ben, so to speak.

I'm afraid we've only got a small double
at the back.

-Will that serve--
-Oh, that's splendid.

May we have the register, please?

-Oh, yes.
-Thank you.

We'll sign it over here,
if you don't mind.

Shall I send a porter
for your luggage, sir?

We haven't any.

Oh.

-How dare you tell them a thing like that?
-It was the only way to get the register.

There was absolutely no need to suggest
we were going to stop here.

Well, nobody will stop here
if we don't work fast.

We've got less than 20 minutes.

But she said he was using another name.

I'm looking to see if there's anyone
staying here on his own.

Or in Newhaven.

This doesn't look like
the right sort of hotel.

Boughtflower. Charles Boughtflower.
He's on his own.

Doesn't sound a very convincing name.

No. Neither does Aubrey Ramsgate.

We'll try them in alphabetic order.
I'll enquire from the landlord.

Couldn't I do something?

I mean, if something's going oft,
oughtn't we to warn everybody?

No, no, we don't want to panic.

Look, you stay here
and keep your eyes open.

I'll track down Sir Gregory.

It must be here somewhere.

What do you think you're doing?
My mother planted this.

Excuse me, sir.

I'm looking for Mr Boughtflower
and Mr Ramsgate in alphabetical order--

-Out of my way!
-I wondered--

But this is frightfully important.
It couldn't be more so.

It's a matter of life and death.

The cellars!
I'm going to look in the cellars.

I'll try the lounge.

It's not down there, miss.
It's over there at the side.

Oh, is your name Vincent?
Er, your maiden name, I mean.

Yes, yes. It is.

Well, the porter's looking for you.
You're wanted on the telephone.

Sounds like your father.

If you would like me to say
that you're not here--

No, no. I know who it is.
I'll speak to him.

Oh, well, the phone box is by the stairs.
I'll put you through.

Hello, Reginald.
What are you phoning me here for?

Is that bounder still with you?

Yes, of course he's here.

Oh, charming.

What are you suggesting?
Do you think we came down here for fun?

Are you Charles Boughtflower?

-Yeah. Who're you?
-Are you?

-Well, if I am, what of it?
-You're in danger, sir.

Danger? What on earth
are you talking about?

I don't know you, do I?

No, but I know you.
I followed you all the way from London.

-Followed me?
-Yes.

I say, what's going on here?
Did she put you on to me?

"She"? Well, if we've got
the same person in mind, yes,

but there's no time to argue, sir.

I happen to know
they're out to get you tonight.

Oh, they are, are they?

I say, old chap, whose side are you on?

Need you ask, sir?

Yeah. Well, I can take a tip.
I'll get my bag.

And for heaven's sake, hurry, sir.

Mark my words, her mother's behind this.

In other words, I'm a liar.

Let me tell you one thing,

Mr Blake is not quite as stupid
as you seem to think. Goodbye.

-I found him.
-Who? Where?

Boughtflower. Come on.

Landlord, this calls for immediate action.
I've located Sir Gregory Upshott

staying here under the name
of Charles Boughtflower.

-What name?
-Boughtflower.

I see.

Look, I know this is gonna sound
absolutely incredible to you,

but I believe
an attempt is going to be made

to assassinate him, here, tonight.

I see.

They've planted some kind of bomb here.
It's expected to go oft at 10:28.

I see.

No, don't-- don't keep saying "I see."

Can't you understand?
Everyone's in mortal danger.

You've got to evacuate
the entire hotel now.

I don't know how many you've had,

but one thing I do know,
you never had 'em here.

But it's going off. It's true.

Uh, let me put it in terms
even you can understand.

Do you want to lose your pub?

-I don't want to lose my licence.
-No.

-I'm a broad-minded man...
-Yes, I'm sure.

...but I'm not very partial
to people who can't hold their liquor.

Especially when they bought it elsewhere.

But you-- you don't understand--

What are we going to do now?

I... Oh. Sir!

Just a minute, sir. You simply must
have a word with the landlord

and explain that everyone else
must clear out too.

I beg your pardon?

He refuses to believe
that you're Sir Gregory.

-Sir who?
-Sir Gregory Upshott.

-Who is?
-You are. Aren't you?

What do you mean?
I'm Charlie Boughtflower.

Always have been.

Oh, dear.

I do believe he is.

-I say, old chap, what's the game?
-Well, you see--

-We thought you were Sir Gregory.
-Yes.

You mean you mistook me
for Sir Gregory Upshott?

-You know him?
-Well, only through the newspapers.

You know, "Sir Gregory shakes the city,"

"Upshott buys Oxshott,
bag shop and bull shop."

And all that sort of nonsense.

Why don't you ask Lily? She signs them in.
She may not know who they are,

but she certainly knows
what they are a mile oft.

Just a minute.
Where does the memsahib come into this?

What's the matter?

-The clock. Look at the time!
-The clock?

What the heck goes on here?

There's something somewhere in this hotel
that's gonna blow up in about ten seconds.

It was meant for Sir Gregory.
For heaven's sake, take shelter!

Ann! Ann! Take cover, sir!

The cellar's through there.

Right. The cellar--
the cellar's through here!

Take cover!

What on earth's going on?

Oh!

- Come on!
- What the hell is going on now?

-Oh, waiter?
-Yes?

Is coffee served in the lounge
for everybody?

Yes, sir. Always.

Now, I'm not going to ask you again.

Are you gonna clear out of my cellar
or am I going to call the police?

-But, look, I I--
-Suppose the people the stickler said--

-They're drunk!
-Drunk?

-We're not.
-We're nothing of the sort.

I say, if this is a piece of hooliganism,
I think it's in damn bad taste.

-But I--
-In a respectable hotel like this.

-Look, I--
-I feel an absolute Charlie.

But, look, I--
Don't-- Don't go up there, sir!

-You'll be blown up!
-Don't go there. You come on out of here.

- And you, come on.
- Oh, I'm very sorry.

I did mention it might've been
The Green Man at Newhaven.

-Come along!
-Well no, you don't understand--

-Don't you argue with me!
-Any landlord--

-I'm trying to tell you--
-Come on. Pack up your bags and get out!

-What bags? They haven't got any bags.
-What?

-This is fun.
-I am glad he asked us again.

Here we are. Now, then, let me see.
Yours was a--

-Whisky, please.
-Whisky.

-Martini.
-Martini. That's another Martini, yes.

Two Martinis and two whiskies.
Thank you very much.

Such an adventure like this
hasn't happened for years.

Oh, dear, dear, dear, dear.
Would you believe it or not,

this time I've left my cigar case
in the lounge.

- Oh.
- Set them up, will you, please?

-I'll be right back.
-Oh, I hope he does remember.

Ah. Get me a large brandy and soda,
ol' girl. I need it.

That cabinet pudding's enough
to unseat any government.

Coffee will be foul, too.

-Hardly worth waiting for.
-Oh, I don't know. I'd like a cup.

Really, I would.

-Two coffees, sir?
-One.

Hello? Hello?
Is that The Green Man, Newhaven?

Are you still on the premises?

Yeah, what I mean is,
are the premises still with you?

Oh. Yes, I-- Yeah-- Yeah, I-- Thank you.
I'll bear that in mind. Goodbye.

They're still there.

But you heard what that woman said.
Something was going to go oft at 10:28.

Obviously, she wasn't speaking the truth.

Unless we got it wrong.

You mean we've been led astray?

Not in any worthwhile sense.

I think we ought to start back.

Oh, wouldn't you like one for the road?
One Reginald?

Yes, I think I would.

-What will you have?
-Gin and tonic, please.

Double gin and tonic
and a double Scotch, please.

-Yes, all right.
-I thought I said you two couldn't stay.

We're not staying.

We're perfectly all right now, landlord.

Only singles.

-Should we sit down?
-Mm-hmm.

Earl Forsythe and his sunspots

will be with you again
at the same time next Friday.

The celloist tonight was Hyacinth Dawn
who is, at present,

appearing in Summertime on Ice
at the Ice Drome, Liverpool.

The time is now 10:24...

10:24? That grandfather clock,
have you altered it?

Yes, I put it on ten minutes. Why?

I told you he does every Friday night.

Oh, we've only four minutes left
to find him.

There's no time. We've got to get everyone
out of here as quick as we can.

I'll take the first floor.
You take the second.

-What was that?
-They're going to wake the customers.

Not here, they're not.

-Oh, what's happening?
-What's going on?

Oh, don't worry, ladies.

They're just
a couple of screaming alcoholics.

Did you say something?

-You must get outside!
-At once!

Don't take any notice of them.
They're barmy!

Shall we move, my dear?

I haven't-- haven't quite finished it.

This is the BBC Home Service.

The international scene.

In a second of our series
under this title,

you will hear tonight
a recording of the important speech

broadcast earlier today at a city luncheon

by the right honourable
Sir Gregory Upshott.

The Middle East...

You're on the radio.
Did you know about it?

It was on the cards, I believe.

But supposing someone
recognises your voice?

My dear, I barely uttered, except to you
and that with, sadly, little response.

I spent, I suppose,

some of the best years of my life
in the Middle East,

a great many of them in the territory

which is the object
of my forthcoming visit.

As a youthful Orientalist,

I studied the civilisation
of ancient Egypt and Italy--

...oil is, I confess, much on my mind.
It has to be.

The future of our military bases
must come into it, too.

The international--

-Look, your lives are in danger!
-I tell you, they're barmy!

We're not barmy!

That's just what I'm going to do!

Windyridge.

What a small world it is.

You're making some mistake,
and I'm in a hurry.

I bet you are. It's coming up to--

-Landlord!
-Just a moment--

-What the devil do you think you're doing?
-Shh.

-Don't you shush me!
-Shut up!

...law and order there...

Quiet, everybody!

...I shall return home a happy man,
perhaps to retire.

- No, no.
- The radio!

It's in the radio!

...to retire, to disappear,
this time, finally, from the public scene.

William, are you all right?

Yes. Yes, I'm all right.

Am I to understand that was meant for me,
young man?

-Yes, it was, sir.
-You must be Sir Gregory Upshott.

They know who you are.

Confound it! This means police,
newspapers, everything.

That means The Daily Mirror.
Mother takes The Daily Mirror.

Depends how quickly you move, sir.

-Joan, get your bag, quick.
-Oh, thank you, sir.

I can't thank you sufficiently.
You deserve recognition for this.

Thank you, sir. I hope you avoid it.

Do you know who put that bomb in my radio?

-Windyridge!
-Windyridge.

I'd forgotten all about him. Come on.

You! What are you doing here?
I thought I told you to go to Folkestone.

She wasn't in the boot, governor.

Never mind about that now.

Get into the car
and reverse to the corner.

Oh, I didn't have time to tell you.
Reginald rang up at the hotel.

He was very, very angry.

You're pretty near to marriage,
aren't you?

Yes.

Have the called the bands yet?

Once.

One up and two to play, eh?

This is the BBC Home Service.

Five minutes of free verse.

We can do without that.

Here is Reginald Willoughby-Cruft

who will read a group of poems
by Milton Boyle entitled "Vicious Cycle."

"Her beauty has a kind of ugliness,

A strangulated loveliness,

Compressing the jugular of my sensitivity
As ivy tourniquets trunk of tree,

Turning the arboreal royalty
into beanpole servitors

Burying the berries
In a fruitless operation

So that the name of her, Ann...

Ann...

Asininely monosyllabic,

The mere label she goes by

Yet pulsing with drum beat

Ann Ann Ann Ann!"

Ann, I can't go on.
Listen to me, wherever you are.

You can go to your blasted vacuum cleaner.

I'm through.
Through, through, through, through...

We must apologise to listeners
for a slight technical hitch.

And that brings us to the end
of broadcasting for tonight.

Goodnight, everybody. Goodnight.