All language subtitles for The.Agatha.Christie.Hour.S01E02.In.a.Glass.Darkly.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H.264-squalor_track4_eng

Well done, Neil.

I'm almost persuaded you
know one end of a horse

from the other

- Well, I know that
both ends are dangerous.

Pa won't let me use the motor.

But then motors
don't bite, do they?

Nor do they kick.

- Why have we stopped?

- Well, there you are, old man.

The family seat.

- Nice.

- Looks good, doesn't it?

We always show
Badgeworthy off from here.

Any closer and you
can see the cracks.

I won't be
the only guest, will I?

- Oh, no.

But you're the only guest
to brave the journey

by the railway.

- Do you know, I like trains.

- That is because you're
a country bumpkin.

Your room.

Now, you wash and brush
up, change for dinner

and I'll be up to find you.

We never let guests
come down on their own

ever since old Admiral Worthy
sneaked out for a snifter

in the middle of a runner

and was found an hour later
wandering in a distracted manner

round the attics.

- You know, it was
good of you to ask me.

- It's jolly good
of you to come.

Between you, me and
the gatepost, you're
my only pal here.

This is really Sylvia's
party, for her engagement.

So apart from you, it's
family and family friends.

- Well, I won't
know anyone here.

- You know me, and
the horrible brat.

- Is Alan coming?

- Yes, the young bounder
would never miss a bun fight.

Now, you'll be relieved to hear

that no man will come
and unpack for you,

so the guilty secrets of that

will remain unrevealed to
the servants' quarters.

- Well, I am relieved.

D'you know, I hate
being unpacked.

- Yes, I don't know
a man who doesn't.

However, please don't feel
that we omitted a manservant

out of consideration for
your sensitive feelings.

The fact is, there aren't
enough to go round.

The house may be large,
but the exchequer is small.

There have been Carslakes at
Badgeworthy for 300 years,

and what we lack in
tangible currency,

we make up for in history.

- Is the place haunted?

- No, my ancestors were
all far too lazy to haunt.

There are rumors of
footsteps, and the usual,

not to say obligatory,

sighs, groans, rattles
and headless nuns,

but I've never seen
nor heard anything.

Now, as soon as I've changed
I'll be back for you.

- Mmmhmm.

- So move yourself, Armitage,

you're not down on the farm now.

- Good evening, madam.
- Ah, Hobbs.

Do you think one
should light the fire?

- Oh, I hardly think so, madam.

It is a beautiful evening.

- Yes, but people from
town always feel the cold.

Don't
you worry, madam.

It's all ready for a
light to be set to it

just as soon as dinner's over.

- Dear Mrs. Hobbs.

I'm sure this is being a
great burden on you all.

- Good gracious, no, madam,
it's like a party for us.

Old Badgeworthy
entertaining society again.

And Miss Sylvia as
well, her engagement.

It seems like only yesterday,

she was no more than
a bit of a bairn.

That'll do, Mary,
you can go now.

- All is well in the kitchens?

- God willing, madam,

and a better meal they're
unlikely to sample in town,

for all it may be
warmer up there.

- Everyone has arrived?
- Yes, madam.

Master Neil has returned
with his university friend

whom he had collected
at the halt.

- Oh, yes, what was his name?

- Armitage, madam,
Mr. Matthew Armitage.

- How is one ever going
to remember all the names?

- You don't have to, madam.

- Dear Mr. and Mrs. Hobbs.

What would any of
us do without you?

With your help, I'm
sure this evening

is going to be a
great, great success.

- You are cold, madam.

- No, not really.

- Drat.

Oh, my God, no!

- Are you ready?

- Neil.

Is there a door behind
this confounded wardrobe?

- Well, yes, there is, why?

- And is there a
room behind the door?

- Yes, a guest bedroom.
- Who's in it?

- Old Major Oldham and his wife.

She's Sylvia's
godmother, but why?

- Has she got fair hair?
- No, since you ask.

She's dark, stout
and in her mid-50s.

You can see for
yourself in a moment.

They were on their
way downstairs as I
came to your door.

What is the matter, Armitage?

- Nothing.

It's just that--

Nothing.

- Have you been
at the hip flask?

- No, I don't
possess such a thing.

- Pity, could do with a swig.

Shall we go down?

Thank you, Hobbs.

Come and meet someone.

Excuse me a moment,
Lucy, Sylvia.

Matthew, I'd like you to
meet my sister, Sylvia.

Sylvia, Matthew Armitage.

- I'm most terribly sorry.

Slipped right out of my hand.

Allow me,
sir, no harm done.

It was whisky, I think.

Here, I'll give
this to Mrs. Hobbs.

- Now then, Neil,

won't you introduce me
to your young friend?

- Sorry, Pa, I was about to,

but I declare, sister Sylvia
quite knocked him off balance.

Matthew, I'd like you
to meet my father.

Pa, this is Matthew Armitage.

- Well, How do you do, sir?
- How do you do?

I know, your people are
in farming, am I right?

- Yes, sir, Suffolk.

- Very windy place.

Now then, my dear, what've
you done with Crawley?

He's here, Papa.

- Armitage, good to
see you, alright?

I do declare, he must have
seen the headless nun.

Oh, shut your mouth, old chap,

the wind could change and
you'll stay like that.

- Don't be tiresome, Alan.

Poor Mr. Armitage will
feel hopelessly set upon.

May I introduce my
fiance, Charles Crawley?

Charles, this is a
friend of my brother's.

Armitage,
Matthew Armitage.

How do you do?
- How do you do?

- So, you're to be married.

Congratulations.

- Thank you.

- Charles, I hope Alan showed
you the view from the west.

- Indeed he did,
it's magnificent.

- It always gives me a
feeling of permanence.

- The Empire, hearth and home.

- Something like that, Edward.

- Let's pray it may last.

- Well, why shouldn't it?

Dinner is served.

- Oh, you men.

What has the murder of a
foreign archduke to do with us?

Now, come along
everyone, shall we go in?

We're all family.

Ah, Mr. Armitage,
perhaps you would like

to accompany my son.

We seem to have an excess
of men at our feast.

Tuck in.

Now, shall we go in?

- Whatever was the
matter with you?

Spilling Pa's good whisky
all over Ma's good carpet.

- I'm most terribly sorry.

- No earthly good, you being
smitten by Sylvia, old chap.

Most men are, but
she's spoken for.

- Look Neil, it's not that.

- Oh isn't it?

He's a thoroughly nice chap
with a pretty good income.

- Look, Neil.
- Not now, old man.

If we keep the diners waiting,

you really will
have made a blunder.

What has got into you?

Whatever it is, I
don't want to hear.

This is supposed to be a party.

Some say the last party
we'll be having for sometime.

Come on, old man.

- Neil, when is Sylvia
getting married?

- Oh, I don't know.

They've only just
engaged themselves.

Ask Sylvia, come on.

- In September, Mr. Armitage.

Charles has business
interests in South Africa.

We will honeymoon on the Cape.

- And shall you
like South Africa?

- How can I tell
until I've been?

- Will you live there?

- Charles says it's no place
for a young family to grow up.

I'm happy at that.

I should not like for too long
to be far from Badgeworthy.

I've lived here all
my life, you know.

- What,

what are Mr. Crawley's
business interests?

- Why, I scarcely know.

Commerce, I believe.

Papa says he's
financially sound.

Why do you ask?

- Miss Carslake.

- Mr. Armitage,
please, calm yourself.

- You know.

- Know?
- Something.

- Tell me.

- No.

- Perhaps we should join
the rest of the party.

- Miss Carslake, you
must not marry that man.

I don't know what it was,
the first night I was here,

a vision, a waking dream.

Could it be that?

- I do not know, Mr. Armitage.

I do not know what
you're talking about.

- You must think
me such an idiot.

A lunatic.

But I must speak.

I should never forgive
myself otherwise.

- No.

I don't think you're
an idiot or a lunatic.

There's a seat along here.

The night you arrived here,

you were telling
me, Mr. Armitage.

- Yes, I was in my
room, tying my tie.

- Please.

- Look here, do you see?

I saw in the mirror
a door open behind me

where the wardrobe stands.

- And?

- And I saw into
the room beyond.

I saw a young woman.

You, Miss Carslake.

And he, he had his
hands around your neck,

squeezing the life
from your body,

forcing you to the--

It was you.

It was.

- And the man, he was?
- I couldn't see his face.

He had his back to
me, I couldn't see.

- Oh.

- Miss Carslake,

the man had a long scar on the
left-hand side of his neck.

I did see.

I'm not making it up.

- Charles got that scar as a
young man, a riding accident.

You had to tell me.

What a strange vision.

Or dream?

I think I'd like to walk

a little on my own
now, Mr. Armitage.

- I'm leaving early
in the morning.

Neil is driving me to the halt.

- Perhaps we'd better
say goodbye now.

- You do believe me?

- What you saw?
- Yes.

- Yes.

Goodbye, Mr.
Armitage, it's been--

Goodbye.

- Dearest Mother, your
letter has reached me here.

Things are a bit
quiet at the moment,

so I'm able to write
you a few lines.

This was all farmland once.

It's just mud now.

We're making a devil
of a mess of France.

Father would have had a fit,
for nothing much grows here.

For nothing grows here.

But I suppose when
this is all over,

there will be grass
again, and birds.

Oh, I do miss the birds.

How I wish I could be with
you now, you are so alone.

But I know that
my place is here.

Fire!

- What time is it?
- About two hours to dawn.

You get some sleep, old chap.

Bloody Hun.

- Some poor blighter's down

the French lines toward Verdun.

Captain Armitage!

Sir?

Give me
a hand, will you?

- Yes, sir.

- Rest for a weary
man, Armitage.

New recruits from
the Egyptian front.

They've had a bit of
a job getting here,

and this poor fellow could do

with a bit of reviver, I think.

Talk to him, Matthew.

He seemed to think he knows you.

- Captain Mountjoy?
- Sir.

- I need your help, please.

There are 40 new recruits
to be found homes for.

- Sir.

Why can't the flaming
French fight their own war?

- Here you are, old chap.

Now, you'll be safe here.

Having a quiet time of it.

Bit hectic down toward Verdun.

And those poor blighters
at Ypres say that

we're having an
absolute tea party!

- Matthew.

Matthew Armitage.

- Neil!

Neil!

It's alright, old
chap, it's alright.

I'm sorry, I wanted
to be strong and brave.

We all did.

It's all right.

Hey, come on.

Sit down.

That's it.

There now.

- One of those has
got my name on it.

- Now, we don't know that.

- I do.

Will you break it to Sylvia?

- Now look, stop talking
like this, old chap.

It's bad luck for all of us.

- Do you remember Sylvia?

- Yes, of course.

- I don't know what
you said to her,

but you know, she never
did marry Crawley.

Poor old Charles.

She was pretty cut up about it,

but she sent him packing,
sweetly, I'm sure.

- What do you mean,
what I said to her?

- I always thought you must
have said something to her.

- Why?

- Because you were with
us on that last evening.

Last evening for us all, really.

- God, I'm so scared.

I am so scared.

I'm ashamed of it.

- Come on, get some
sleep, old chap.

Come on.

You'll be safe here.

- Will you stay here?
- Yes.

Yes.

Right here.

Just right here.

- Do you remember that
day at Badgeworthy?

We went riding.

Later, you went for
a walk with Sylvia.

It'll never be like that again.

Never, ever.

I know.

Do you believe in presentiments?

- Hmm?

- Visions, you know,
knowing the future?

Do you?

- Yes.

Dearest Mother.

I am coming home,

but I don't know for how long.

And with such a sad heart.

Neil Carslake was
killed in no-man's land

just before dawn yesterday.

I was beside him.

I didn't even get a scratch.

Mother.

Oh, Mother.

Sylvia.
- No.

Better not to speak.

Poor Neil.

Poor all of us.

And you, Matthew.

You look so tired.

See?

There are still flowers.

- Sylvia.

I want to help.

- You loved him too, didn't you?

- Yes.

He was my best, he was
my very dearest friend.

- Then I'm thankful
you were there.

Poor flowers.

Now they're dying too.

I must go back to my mother.

And poor Papa.

Thank you, Matthew.

- What's your name?

- Barton, sir, C Company.

- Well, Barton, this is no
place for a nap, come on.

- It's my leg, sir.

- Right.

Can you make it
back to our lines?

- Suppose I'll have to, won't I?

- Come on, then,
I'll take your gun.

It's not far, it's not far.

Alright, steady.

Steady.

Steady, just keep going.

- Wish the buggers
would stop, sir.

- So do I, Barton.

So do I.

- I mean, this is no
way to behave, is it?

I mean.

It's not even bloody polite.

- Those are our gunmen, Barton.

They're our guns.

Right.

.

- Ah, Sylvia.

Sylvia.

There are flowers in heaven?

- There certainly
are at Badgeworthy.

- Oh, it's you.

Here.

- I came as soon as I heard.

Your mother wrote and
told me you were back

and sent me your address.

The letter arrived this morning,

so you see, I've wasted no time.

- I wanted to die.
- Don't.

- I'd taken everything away.

- From whom?

- Well, from you,
my darling girl.

- From me?

- When I told you about Neil,

I thought my heart would break
to see you in such anguish.

- But I could only
have heard it from you.

- And then,

what happened to
Charles Crawley?

- He was killed on the
Somme, two years ago.

- Oh.

I'm sorry.

I'm so very sorry.

- Yes.

Poor Charles.

But why do you think I
broke off our engagement?

- Because of my vision.

- No.

No, dear, dear Matthew.

Because of you.

I would hardly have been
decent to have married him

when my heart was
beating for another.

- For another?

- From the first time I
saw you at Badgeworthy,

I knew I loved you.

Come
along, Mr. Armitage,

time for nature to
heal that wound.

- Oh, not now, nurse.
- Yes, now.

The young lady may wait.

This won't take a moment.

There now, Mr.
Armitage, two good eyes,

and nothing to show for it
all but a wee bit of a scar.

I think it gives him a
certain dash, don't you, miss?

You were lucky.

They're not all lucky, you know.

Do I look awful?

- No.

I was so afraid for you.

- If this war should ever end,

and we go back to living again,

would you?

I should be down on
one knee for this,

and here I am, lying
flat on my back.

I love you so much.

Do you think it's possible
to love someone too much?

Because if it were, it
would be my only crime.

- And I love you too.

- More than Crawley?

- I don't think you can compare.

I simply love you.

- Not as much as I love you.

Not as much.

- Why, my dear, what
do you do all day?

I shouldn't like it at all.

You're happy,
Sylvia, aren't you?

You're my little sister,

and I shouldn't like
you to be otherwise.

- Yes, Alan, I am happy.

- Mama wonders very much if
she's to be a grandmother.

- Oh, only Mama?
- Oh, Papa as well.

He's longing for a grandson.

- Well, why not?

- We're talking about you,
my love, not about me.

You've been married
nearly four years now.

There should be,
there should be.

Drifts of baby whiteness
blowing in the wind.

- Very poetic.

- Talent will out.

The Sitwells think me promising,
which would be wonderful,

save for the fact that I think
they may be mad as hatters.

Who are the
Sitwells, do we know them?

- Ah, clown's houses.

The Wooden Pegasus.

- Rescue me, dearest, my brother
is now talking in riddles.

- Armitage, you are keeping
my sister under lock and key.

- Come on.

- Too much country can
be bad for a person.

She must come to London and
meet some interesting people.

She might even
meet the Sitwells.

- Not now, Alan,
come and have tea.

It's nearly time for you to go.

- My wife can come
and go as she pleases.

It is only I who am
confined to this farm.

- Oh, pooh.

You have a manager, Matthew,
who does all the work.

And we all know perfectly well

why you never leave
this frozen wilderness.

You're afraid some
good-looking young Adonis

might enchant Sylvia
down off her perch.

Infidelity is all
the rage this season.

- Not in Suffolk, sir.

- Pardonnez-moi.

- Oh, Alan!

Alan is,

he's just Alan, Matthew.

He's always been a
tease all his life.

One learns not to
let him upset one.

- Oh, does one?

- I really think you're
taking this too seriously.

- Maybe there's truth
in what he says.

- Since Neil was killed,
we've become very close.

Particularly as Pa is a
little disappointed with him.

- Well, your poor father.

Is there any small wonder?

- Matthew.

- Well, the man's an
artistic, Sylvia, he's a poet.

- Yes.

He's also my brother and
a dear, loving person,

and I don't wish to
discuss him with you.

- Well, why don't you
go and live with him

and have a jolly time together?

All those Chelsea types.

Or where?

Bloomsbury, yes, that's the
place to be now, isn't it?

- Darling, are you
trying to divorce me?

I won't let you go.

- I love you, Sylvia.

- I know.

- I know it's not
much fun for you here.

- I am with you.

That's all that matters.

- If only I could believe that.

- Yes, Matthew,
if only you could.

- I didn't always
want to be a farmer.

Do you remember
when we first met?

I was at university with Neil.

I wanted to be a historian,

which probably meant I'd
have ended up teaching

a lot of bored little
schoolboys history

in a minor public
school somewhere.

I'd have enjoyed that.

- Yes, darling.

- And then the war came.

Changed everything.

You were to be married
to Charles Crawley.

Maybe neither of us
got what we wanted.

- Matthew, you must stop this.

- And then the war came.

Changed everything.

Fun.

Took away my sense of fun.

This house needs children.

- It's alright.

It's alright, Matthew.

It's alright.

I'm here, Matthew, it's
over, the war it's over.

- Not yet, I think.

Not yet.

- Perhaps we should
give a party.

Hmm?

Celebrate our
wedding anniversary.

Mama and Pa will be
staying here, then.

Your mother could come.

Perhaps we have to make our
lives, not expect it to happen.

Charlotte and Graham could come.

And if her brother's staying
with them, .

Where's Graham?

- My dear, never be
married to a doctor.

It's impossible to
make arrangements.

At this moment, he's probably
delivering a lusty infant

over at Staplethorpe.

Sylvia, the man I
wanted you to meet.

He's rather good looking,
but don't be dismayed,

he has brains as well.

- You must be
Charlotte's brother.

- Didn't I say that?

Truly, living in the country

makes one lose all
her social graces.

- Charlotte, a few
names would be useful.

- What?

Oh, this is Sylvia Armitage,

the prettiest farmer's wife
in the whole of Suffolk.

- Don't be so niggardly
in your praise, Charlotte.

- And this is my brother,
Derek, Derek Wainwright.

Don't ask me what
he does, darling.

He was going to be a
perfectly respectable doctor,

like all the rest of our
family, even I married one.

But no, Derek has
to be different.

Matthew.

Oooh, darling.

- How nice to see you.

- Charlotte divides her
time between telling me

how jealous Matthew is and
trying to right the balance

by making me jealous instead.

What do you do, Mr. Wainwright?

- I'm a sort of doctor.

- Oh.

- I always get embarrassed

when people ask me that,
particularly at parties.

I don't know why.

- Well then, let's
pretend I never asked.

- No, no, I don't
mind telling you.

I am studying in Vienna.

- Oh?

Sorry?

- I'm studying to
be a psychiatrist.

- Oh, that's rather the vogue
at the moment, isn't it?

- Thank you.

- I've never really
understood what it means.

- A doctor who diagnoses and
treats disorders of the mind.

- Are you successful?

- I personally, or
psychiatry as a practice?

- I suppose I meant can
such disorders be treated?

- At least you acknowledge
that they do exist.

- Oh, yes, Mr. Wainwright.

If not before, then certainly
they're a legacy of the war.

It seems so poignant that
the men who have returned

should be bedeviled
by fearful memories.

- But not all of us.

- No.

And you're quite right,

it's an unsuitable
conversation for a party.

Make me laugh, Mr. Wainwright.

Charlotte always boasts
about what a wit you are.

Is she?

Yes, well Charlotte--

- Matthew?

Matthew, I'm speaking to you.

- I'm sorry, Mother.

- My dear, are you alright?

- Yes.

Yes, of course.

- Matthew?

What is it?
- It's nothing.

I'm alright.

Go back to our guests.
- Dearest?

- Go back to our guests, Sylvia.

- Very well.

- Only don't you
think a good hostess

should circulate a little more?

Not spend her entire
evening talking

to the one handsome
man in the room?

Particularly when that man

does not happen
to be her husband.

- I shall ignore
that remark, Matthew,

and just remind you
that we have guests.

- He's here for your
pleasure, remember?

This entire party is for you

to relieve the boredom
of living with me!

Now, Mr. Carslake,

how's that young
son of yours doing?

I hear from Sylvia he's
had his verses published.

You must be very proud.

Proud?

The world's gone mad.

My
husband doesn't hold

with artistic pursuits.

No, I do not.

And knitting is for women.

- Your husband went right
through the war, I believe.

A brave man.
- Yes.

He got medals for his bravery.

Medals.

You must meet our other
guests, Mr. Wainwright.

- Of course.

If ever you need my help,

I'll be staying with
Charlotte for a short while,

and after that,
I'll be in London.

- That won't be necessary.

Thank you.

- Thank you for
coming, good night.

Thank you.

- And, put this in your handbag.

I meant what I said.

- He's just very highly strung.

- Let me be the judge of that.

We like having
you both as neighbors.

- And thank you for
a delightful evening.

Well, Armitage, I'm going to
take you up on that offer.

- Oh my dear chap, my
dear chap, any time.

- Well.

- In fact, whenever
you're staying with
Charlotte and Graham

you'll be most welcome,

we shall expect to see
you, won't we, Sylvia?

- Thank you, thank you.

Goodbye.

- A hit, my dear, a hit.

- Good night.
- Good night.

Sylvia.

About earlier.

I'm sorry.

- Well, we still
have guests, Matthew.

Whatever may have
gone wrong between us,

at least let our
parents be spared.

I won, and I refuse
to believe you let me.

I enjoyed that.

Thank you.

- You know, don't you?
- What?

- That I'm falling
in love with you.

- You mustn't.

You mustn't, I love my husband.

But you're unhappy.

- That doesn't stop
me loving him, Derek.

- Who's the letter from?

- It was addressed to me.

- But you are my wife.

I own you.

Now, who is that letter from?

- I will not tell you.

I'm going up to my room.

My letters are my private life.

- And your mind is
your private mind,

and you close me out of both.

Who was that letter from?

No.

It was from him, wasn't it?

Derek Wainwright.

He hasn't been around
much lately, has he?

What's the matter, had a
lovers' tiff, have you?

Or perhaps you decided

your meetings ought to
become more clandestine.

All that riding and carrying
on under my very nose

was too much for
even a fool like me.

My God, Sylvia.

You're destroying me.

You're tearing me apart.

Damn you!

Damn you!

Why did you marry me?

Why didn't you
leave me in peace?

My God,

you trapped me.

I should've known.

You cast Crawley off
without, without--

Oh, my God.

My vision was right but
I saved you from it.

Crawley would've strangled
you with his bare hands,

and no one would have suspected
that you'd driven him to it.

Oh, you flirt!

You flirt!

Well, don't think that
I won't let you go.

You are the only
woman I ever loved.

Till death us do part.

Do you remember?

- I suppose this is a very
traditional way of doing it.

But I'm too much of
a coward to face you.

I'll go to Badgeworthy
for a day or two.

After that.

I'll go to the one
person in the world

who really loves
me and needs me.

Matthew?

- And so you were going to him,

to Wainwright.

Oh, you cheat!

You slut!

You flirt!
- No!

- Bitch!

Oh.

Oh.

Sylvia?

Sylvia?

Are you alright?

We were a little concerned.

- Yes, Pa.

We could
hear voices, and we--

- No, it's alright, Pa.

Matthew is here.

Better
yet, Hobbs got us,

we were a little
concerned, perhaps--

It is kind of you
to be concerned, good night.

Good night.

- All this time.

All these years.

And I never knew.

The man with the scar was--

Oh.

My darling.

I love you so much.

I've damaged you so much.

Of course, I'll never stand
in the way of your happiness.

I rejoice in your happiness.

I thank Wainwright.

He has the power to give
you what I never could.

- Listen to me, Matthew.

I've loved you since
that day in the arbor

when you told me about
your strange vision.

I don't know whether
I believed it or not,

but I do know that
it had nothing to do
with Charles and I.

I just could not marry one
man when I loved another.

I couldn't.

- You loved me.

I've lost everything.

You loved me and I've driven you

into the arms of the man
who loves and needs you.

- Alan.

Not Derek Wainwright.

Alan.

That's whom my letter was from,

my brother, who's alone,
and unhappy and confused

and had no one to
turn to but me.

I've never stopped loving you,

even when things were
so bad between us,

I didn't believe it was you,

not the real you.

It was what the war
had done to you.

I love you so much.

- Do you see?

Crawley's scar was on the
left, my scar is on the right.

The mirror reversed the image.

If I'd seen that
all those years ago,

I'd have never spoken
to you about it.

I'd have known the man
was not Charles Crawley.

Everything reversed.

An illusion.

Make-believe.

Darling.

- Shh.

Listen.

The sound of the guns

inside my head,

they've gone.

Oh.

Thank you.

Do you know, without
you, without your love,

I have been--

Well, I'm here with you now.

Do you think the farm is a good
place to bring up children?

- Oh, yes.

Yes, a very good place.

A place we've won together
in a world you fought for.

What was
it Mr. Wells called it?

The war to end war.