All language subtitles for Father Brown S08E03 The Scales of Justice.DVDRip.NonHI.en.BBC

Silence in the court.

Mr. foreman, have you reached a
verdict in relation to this indictment,

upon which you are all agreed?

We have, My Lord.

Do you find the defendant
guilty or not guilty

of the murder of
Theodore Neville-Crowley?

Guilty, My Lord.

What do you mean she just
wandered in, in the dead of night?

I feared it was an intruder,
probably driven in by the rain.

Well, you should
have called the police.

Perhaps.

Luckily turned out to be a
benign, rather damp house guest,

fast asleep on my couch.

- Morning, Father. Hello, Mrs. M.
- Good morning, Bunty.

I trust you had a
good time at the party.

Far too good by the look of her.

It was smashing, thank you.

And I'm sorry to
drop in unannounced,

I just thought it best to
drive home in the daylight.

You drove here? I
didn't see your car.

Oh, it's just parked
down the lane.

Anyway, thank you so much for
the blanket, that's so sweet of you.

- I really must fly.
- What's the hurry? Have some toast.

And maybe a glass of water.

Oh, no, it's quite all
right, really. Toodle-oo!

I must say, Bunty, that's
not very well parked.

I just, erm, really
wanted to get home.

Did anything happen?

- No, nothing I couldn't handle.
- Ah.

Miss Windermere, at last.

We've been looking
for you all morning.

We're here to place
you under arrest.

Arrest? What for?
Damaging a hedgerow?

For the suspected murder
of Theodore Neville-Crowley.

What?

Teddy's dead?!

His body was found in his gardens
in the early hours of this morning.

He'd been bludgeoned to death.

How does this involve Bunty?

A feather stole that
she was wearing

was found on the
very spot that he died.

And several witnesses say that she
was the last person seen with him alive.

I'm sure there's a reasonable
explanation for all that.

Bunty...

- ..is that blood?
- Oh.

No. I must...

I can explain all of this.

Then I suggest you do just
that, at the police station.

Goodfellow.

You are not obliged
to say anything,

but anything you do say may be
put into writing and given in evidence.

You can't seriously
think I killed him, can you?

What I think is irrelevant.
I'm only interested in the facts.

Which I will gladly give you.

Just as soon as I've
had my telephone call.

I know my rights, Inspector.

Mayfair 6291, please.

Hello, Roderick, it's me.

Is Daddy home? It's important.

The Atlas Mountains
of Morocco, of course.

How long will they be there?

Can't you get them a message?

No, that's quite
all right. Um...

Thank you.

- I just need one more call.
- Sorry, that's your lot, I'm afraid.

Right this way, Miss Windermere.

A change of clothes for Bunty.

I assume her party dress
will be examined for evidence.

It will. Thank you, Father.

When can I see her?

She's still being questioned.

And they've been
here over an hour.

Mr. Neville-Crowley.

Father Brown. We've met
before, a few years ago.

Of course, at Mother's
funeral. And Father's before that.

You won't have
met my wife, Margot.

Hello.

My condolences to you both.

How awful to lose your brother
in such distressing circumstances.

Thank you.

Inspector Mallory spoke
with us this morning,

but we were still in shock.

He said we should come in

if we remembered anything
that might be important.

Care to share it with me?

I'm here as a friend of
Miss Penelope Windermere,

and I have no doubt that
she has been falsely accused.

Yes. Well, it does
seem rather fanciful

to think that a
woman killed him.

Women are quite capable of
violence, Max, when provoked.

And we all know Teddy
was quite the provocateur.

The last time Teddy and I
spoke, we almost came to blows.

It seems trivial now,
but it was about a car.

It wasn't trivial, the Jag
rightly belonged to you.

Anyway, that's not
the important bit.

As I told the Sergeant,
after the party,

the Jag was driven off by one
of Teddy's so-called friends,

Charlie something.

Suspicious character.

We think he should be
found and questioned.

About your brother's murder?

Or theft?

Well, both, I should think.

Bunty.

Take her to the cells, she can
change there. And stay with her.

That doesn't sound
awfully private!

I'll turn around,
Miss Windermere.

She's been formally
charged with murder.

On what grounds, Inspector?

A confession.

- How are you?
- Oh, you know me, Father.

I've been in worse
scrapes than this before.

Inspector Mallory
tells me you confessed.

To what, exactly?

To hitting Teddy,
with a tree branch.

Begin at the beginning.

Well, it all started so well.

The party really was good fun.

Welcome to Gatsby's mansion!

We have champagne,
we have cocktails,

so drink to your heart's desire.

- Ah, Max! Good of you to come!
- Oh, is there going to be a skit?

You said the theme was
A Teddy Bear's Picnic.

I'm so sorry, I forgot
to say that I changed it.

Oh, and I see Margot decided to
come as herself, how imaginative.

And I see you're dressed
as a spoilt millionaire.

Not much imagination
needed for that.

She's right, you know.

I'm frightfully spoilt, you
should stay away from me.

- Oh, I'm a little spoiled myself.
- Oh, jolly good.

How long have you known Teddy?

Oh, barely a week.
We met at a charity do.

Ah.

Yes, he likes to make new friends,
but he rarely keeps them long.

Except Charlie over there.
He's become quite the fixture.

- Oh, yes, I noticed him. Who is he?
- Nobody knows.

Seems a bit rough around
the edges for Teddy.

I rather like him.

It was a Great Gatsby theme,

so naturally Teddy had
cast himself the starring role.

What kind of playboy
millionaire would Gatsby be

if he didn't offer his guests
the chance of a prize?

Ooh!

Take a look through that window.

Somewhere, ladies and
gentlemen, hidden in the gardens...

..are the keys to that car.

Finders keepers, losers weepers.

Go, go, go, go!

Then we searched
the gardens for an age.

The longer it took, the more
determined we all became.

It started to get late,
and I was on my own.

Ah.

Oh.

- I bring some disappointing news.
- Oh?

- Somebody's already found the keys.
- Oh, well. Good for them.

- Um, I was getting chilly anyway.
- No, no, no.

- Ah.
- Don't go in just yet.

We finally have the
garden to ourselves.

Now, all I want is
one... little... kiss.

Oh! Mm! Teddy!

Quite the wildcat. I like that.

Stay away from me!

It was just a bit of fun!

After that it all
gets so muddled.

I'm sure I only hit Teddy once.

I could swear that I
saw him walking away.

But then I barely remember
the drive back to the presbytery.

So what if I'm wrong, Father?

What if I killed him?

Bunty, I'm convinced you
are innocent of this crime.

Which means someone else is
guilty, and I intend to find out who.

Thank you, Father.

In the meantime, I've asked
Sergeant Goodfellow to get in contact

with a family friend for me.

I only hope Daddy doesn't mind
the enormous bill when he gets home.

- Ah, Bunty.
- Bertie.

Thank you so much
for coming so quickly.

This is my friend, Father Brown.

Bertram Quinton.

No time for
niceties, I'm afraid.

- Bunty and I have much ground to cover.
- I'll take my leave.

Well, the bad news is you've admitted
to far more than I would've advised.

But no matter.

The good news is
this Inspector Mallory

is clearly an imbecile
who's clutching at straws.

Rest assured, I'll have this
absurd charge laughed out of court.

Sergeant Goodfellow.

I'm under strict orders not to
discuss this case with you, Father.

May I at least ask if there are any
other suspects under consideration?

Maximilian, for instance,

admitted to arguing with his
brother the night of the murder.

And the sister-in-law
clearly disliked Teddy.

It seems everyone disliked him.

Look, we questioned
every servant

and every guest who
was there last night.

And the mysterious Charlie
whom Maximillian mentioned?

Inspector Mallory says a
dispute over a motor vehicle

is hardly a priority in
a murder investigation.

Look, Father, I will do
my best to find him for you,

but, please, don't ask
me for anything else.

I promise I won't.

Once you've shown
me the murder scene.

I could lose my job!

All right. After my shift.

But the evidence has already been
gathered, and I hate to say this, Father,

but it all seems to point
to Miss Windermere.

Which is why it is vital that I
see the evidence for myself.

Nice try, Padre, but it's
staying under lock and key.

And if I hear of you trying
to tamper with any of it,

I'll arrest you.

I do not wish to tamper with it!

I want to find out
what happened.

And you will, when the
facts are presented in court.

News, news!

News!

At last, she's here!

Do you have anything to say?

- Are you guilty, Miss Windermere?
- How are you feeling? Tell us...

You've done it, didn't you? You
done it, didn't you, Miss Windermere?

I'll see you in there, sir.

Good luck on the
stand, Inspector.

Enjoy the view from
the public gallery.

Glad to see you've left it to
the professionals for once.

Any progress on
finding the Jaguar?

The numberplate
was finally registered.

Someone in Bath bought it.

He says the seller left a
forwarding address, in Bristol.

The Prosecution, Roger Sharpe. By
all accounts, he lives up to his name.

Just so long as
Penelope's man is sharper.

I'm confident she's
in good hands.

Where the devil are my glasses?

All rise for His Honor,
Judge Pickering.

Would the defendant please rise?

Please state your
full name for the court.

Penelope Windermere.

You are indicted with one count of
murder, namely that on the 25th July, 1953,

you did murder one Theodore
Neville-Crowley, contrary to common law.

Do you understand the
charges against you?

I do.

How do you plead?
Guilty or not guilty?

Not guilty.

Ladies and gentlemen...

..a young man with
a promising future,

brutally bludgeoned to death
in the gardens of his own home

by his drunken party
guest, Miss Windermere.

Perhaps you think any lady of
good breeding would be incapable

of such an act of savagery,
but don't be deceived.

What you will find is Miss
Windermere is a woman of low morals,

who was expelled
from various schools,

who has thought nothing of
having affairs with married men.

A woman without
scruples or self-control.

But perhaps you still won't
believe murder is in her character.

Then the cold, blunt
evidence will speak for itself.

I believe this will prove
beyond a shadow of a doubt

that Miss Windermere
is guilty of this crime.

That concludes the
outline for the Prosecution.

I'll admit my client
hasn't always conducted

herself as well as
she should have,

but she's a jolly good egg...

..and you'll soon see that
this charge is just... absurd.

Thank you.

Is this the spot where
Mr. Neville-Crowley's

lifeless body was found?

That is correct.

As you can see, ladies and
gentlemen, a grisly scene indeed.

Is this the branch, Inspector?
- It is.

What would it
have been used for?

Clubbing the victim to death.

Look closely at the dress.

An unmistakable smudge
of the victim's blood.

And copious amounts on his suit.

- Grass stains on Teddy's suit.
- Is that a question, Padre?

- How did they get there?
- Well, presumably from the grass.

Look, it was a party.
He was drinking.

He could have
tripped and fallen.

But they're streaked,
like drag marks.

Which proves that
Bunty was right -

Teddy did walk
away after she hit him.

Otherwise, how did he wind
up dead in the very same place?

What are you wittering about?

The body was moved.

He could be right, sir.

Inspector, at least
let's test the theory.

Mr. Neville-Crowley was
found here, facedown,

with his head in that direction.

He could have been dragged
by his feet, from the bench.

For someone who's
never been here before,

he certainly seems to know
his way around, Sergeant.

Well, he saw the ground
plan at the court, sir.

I'll be Teddy.

Bunty has just spurned
my unwanted advance.

So I sit here, nursing my
grievance with a cigarette.

That's a good guess,
Father, because,

we found a pack in Teddy's
pocket, didn't we, sir?

And a half-smoked
one right there.

Go on.

Will you be my
assailant, Sergeant?

As you can see, it provides
perfect cover for a stealthy approach.

So I bludgeon Teddy...

Boof, boof!

Thank you, Sergeant.

I tip forward, onto the floor,

and I'm dragged backwards to
the spot where Bunty first hit me.

Firstly, this is
the victim's home.

He could have smoked
that cigarette at any time.

And secondly, if
he was killed here,

there would have been
blood on the bench.

But it rained heavily
earlier that morning.

Either way, the
evidence is gone.

Dropped cigarettes and grass stains
are hardly grounds to reopen a case,

especially one that's
already gone to trial.

So, if you don't mind, I'm
going back to the court.

He's right, Father.

Even if we do find
something, it's too late.

But they haven't
reached a verdict yet.

To help Bunty, Sergeant,
we must be bold,

even in defiance
of Inspector Mallory.

There's still a lead in Bristol.

Come along, Goodfellow!

All right.

You hardly cross-examined them.

- Who?
- Anyone!

Bertie!

No point disputing
the hard evidence.

It's the witness statements
where the real fun begins.

Stiffen your sinews, my
dear, we're going to win this.

We reconvene in ten minutes.

Must spend a penny first.

I know a drunkard
when I see one.

It's not all the time.

It seems it's just when
he's stepping into court.

Well, that's not much
use to you, now, is it?

But what else am I to
do? Bertie's my last hope.

Father Brown is
out there right now.

He will not rest until
he finds the killer.

Oh, Bunty. He won't
let you down, I promise.

Charlie Reid?

May we come in?

What's with the priest?

I'm taking a keen interest in
the Neville-Crowley murder case.

I've been following it in the
papers, same as everyone.

Is this about the Jag?

I won it fair and square.

You're the only guest we never
questioned after the party, sir.

If you're asking what I
saw that night, I didn't.

Teddy was pratting
about with his posh mates.

If you don't mind my saying,

you don't seem to have
liked him very much,

and yet you spent a
lot of time with him.

May I ask where you first met?

At a poker game,

about six months back. So what?

Because I checked
Teddy's bank records

and he'd been withdrawing
£20 a month in cash

for the past six months.

Nothing to do with me.

I believe in a lot
of things, Mr. Reid,

but coincidence
isn't one of them.

Was Teddy paying
you off, perhaps?

A gambling debt?

Something worse?

Does it look like I was
getting that kind of money?

Forgive the observation,

but gamblers have
a habit of losing it.

I've got a family,
I look after them.

Look, Teddy was
from a different world.

It was fun being
around that for a while.

But the only thing I
got from him was that

car, which I sold to
put food on the table.

Now, unless I'm being
charged with something,

I think we're done here.

Mr. Neville-Crowley,

on the night in question,
what interaction, if any,

did you see taking place between
your brother and Miss Windermere?

They were talking,
laughing, dancing together.

Dancing closely?

Yes, I'd say there was an
obvious attraction between them.

That's why, later, when I
saw Teddy follow Bunty...

Sorry, Miss Windermere.

..through the garden, I assumed
he wished to be alone with her.

For what purpose?

My brother was never
short of female company.

So, you believe he followed
her with amorous intent?

I'm sure of it.

And that's the last
time I saw him alive.

Thank you. No further questions.

Mr. Neville-Crowley,

you argued with your
brother the night he died.

- What about?
- Well, he was being utterly vile.

How could you?!

That car's the one thing
Father promised me, Teddy.

Pity there's no
mention of it in the will.

So I suggest you run
along and join the hunt.

Would you say you were
angry enough to kill him?

- No.
- My Lord!

After all, your brother's death
makes you a very wealthy man.

Mr. Quinton, the witness is
not on trial, the defendant is.

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,
please disregard those last remarks.

Best keep this from Bunty.

She is in need of some
good news and soon.

Which still evades me.

So, for now, I must
observe all I can.

I have been making some
observations of my own.

Excuse me.

Hand it over.

I beg your pardon?

You may have it back
when all this is done.

Now, I have no idea what
your problem is, and I don't care.

All I care about is Penelope.

Her future, maybe even
her life, is dependent on you.

So...

..you'd better do your very best for that
girl, or you will have me to answer to.

You liked
Mr. Neville-Crowley, didn't you?

Yes, at first, I did.

And what was it
you liked about him?

His good looks?

His money? That's
important to you, isn't it?

Not as important as
kindness or humor.

Oh, come, come.

You were enticed by his
lavish home, weren't you?

You clearly enjoyed
his hospitality.

So, what exactly did you expect

when you went off alone
into the gardens with him?

I didn't. He followed me.

But you can't have been
surprised when he did so.

You were seen flirting
with him all evening.

That didn't give him the
right to try and force me.

He forced you, did he?

Why would a rich, handsome man
find the need to force any woman?

You've heard the evidence that
Theodore had no shortage of offers.

He tried to kiss
me and I said no.

And when he went right on
kissing you, you scratched his face

and then you struck
him with a branch.

- I just wanted him to stop.
- Did you strike him? Yes or no.

Yes.

You'd been drinking champagne.

So much so that you later
drove your car into a hedge,

- isn't that correct?
- Yes.

So, it's fair to say that your memory
of what happened is far from reliable.

- Yes, but...
- You were drunk

and Teddy pushed you too far,

and that made you angry,
didn't it, Miss Windermere?

Just like you're
angry right now.

You struck him
over and over again.

- No!
- You killed him, didn't you?

No! But I'm not sorry I hit him.

No further questions, My Lord.

Mrs. Neville-Crowley.

- Are you all right?
- Call me Margot, please, Father.

I loathe my married name.

No woman should be
treated like that, guilty or not.

You believe that Bunty
could have killed Teddy?

I believe, if she
did, he deserved it.

He was an utter cad.

He tried his luck with me once,
you know, after I married Max.

I rebuffed him, of course.

But not every woman
has been so fortunate.

There was that nasty
business in Oxford.

What business was that?

Accusations were made
by a female student.

Teddy was questioned, but,

naturally, the police
believed his word over hers.

Twas ever thus.

You don't remember
her name, do you?

The student?

Yes, I believe it was Lucy.

Lucy Reid.

My sister.

She was the first one in
my family to go to university.

She was beautiful.

Happy.

Till he ruined her.

She killed herself last year.

I'm sorry.

May God have mercy
on her eternal soul.

You can keep your
sympathy, Father.

You lot treated her like dirt
when she was expecting.

Your little girl...

She's Teddy's?!

Not that he cared.

So, I made him care.

Made him pay for what was right.

The £20 a month.

It's all been going
into savings, all of it,

to give that girl a future
her mother should've had.

But how did you
get him to pay up?

It was easier than I thought.

I roughed him up a bit,

said if he called the police,
they would know what he did.

One look at that kid and
they'd know she was his.

Besides, their blood
type would've matched.

After that, he was scared stiff.

I'd crash his parties,

have the run of the place.

You enjoyed tormenting him.

Why not?

After what he did to Lucy?

It sounds to me like you
had every reason to kill him.

No.

I hated him...

..but he was paying up nicely.

Why ruin a good thing?

I swear to you...

..I didn't kill him.

Do you believe him, Father?

His loyalty is to his family.

Who would provide for them if
he was charged with murder?

He could've still
lost his temper.

After six months with Teddy?

No, Charlie's
revenge was slow...

..considered.

The murder was frenzied,
a crime of passion.

Sergeant, he's innocent,

I'm sure of it.

Then we're no
closer to the truth.

Penelope tells me you
have never lost a case.

- What happened, Mr. Quinton?
- Happened?

I don't know what you
mean. Nothing happened.

In my experience, men are rarely
driven to drink for no good reason.

An arsonist set fire
to an empty building.

I got him off on a technicality.

Weeks later, he did it again.

A whole family
erased because of me.

This is my first trial since.

I suppose I just needed
a little Dutch courage.

You've not had a
drink for 24 hours.

That took courage, didn't it?

Still no joy from Bristol?

I thought we were close.

If I could only go back to
the beginning, somehow.

Mr. Quinton,

the evidence admitted
in court, is it still here?

It is indeed.

But before you ask, it's against the
law for you to go anywhere near it.

Sometimes the law
fails the innocent.

You should know that
better than anyone.

Yes, I do.

But what you're asking
is completely unethical.

And under no
circumstances can I tell you

what you're looking for is in storage
room D at the end of the corridor.

Father, can you please be quick?

Or we'll both end up in the
dock, right next to Penelope.

It would be a different trial,

but I take your point.

Odd.

What?

Blood on the socks.

Well, there was
blood everywhere.

On the suit, near the head
wound, as you'd expect.

But why blood on the socks,

when there's none on
the hems of his trousers?

Unless...

Unless what?

Pursuing your own
inquiries behind my back.

Taking unauthorized trips
to Bristol with Father Brown!

And what exactly did
you achieve by this?!

Nothing, sir.

We let the suspect go.

You let him go.

Of course you did,

because the pair of you
were barking up the wrong tree!

Barking up the wrong tree,

but in the right neck
of the woods, Inspector.

- I think I've dis...
- I don't care!

You've tried my
patience enough, Padre.

Sir, please...

I might have known
you'd side with him.

It's not about sides, sir.

It's about Miss Windermere.

Thank you, Inspector.

Sometimes you have to
build the whole jigsaw puzzle

to find out the
piece that's missing.

Spare me the riddles
and get to the point.

What's missing?

Something that will
prove Bunty's innocence.

But I need you and
your men's help to find it.

Miss Windermere is guilty.

Oh, come on, ladies and
gentlemen, we all know it.

She is guilty of being a woman
who dares to speak her mind.

She is guilty of being
young and spirited.

Guilty of much impropriety.

Sometimes she likes to dance
and drink too much champagne.

But a murderess she is not.

Merely a woman cornered
in a darkened garden

by a man with only
one thing in mind.

She struck him, once, then fled.

If she were the killer, why
admit to striking him at all?

If she were so devious,

why leave an article of her
own clothing at the scene?

And why was she not covered
from head to toe in his blood?

Ladies and gentlemen, we're not here to
determine who killed Mr. Neville-Crowley,

only to decide whether there is
enough evidence to convict this woman.

Judge her
character, if you will,

but do not condemn her for a crime
of which she is entirely innocent.

This is absurd.

It's like looking for a
needle in a haystack.

Haystack...

Sergeant, did you say that the
gardener discovered the body?

Yeah, that's right, Father.

He said he'd been
mowing the lawn.

If you think I'm putting my hands
in that, you're very much mistaken.

As you wish, Inspector.

I'm sure Bunty will completely
understand your fastidiousness.

The jury may now retire
to make your deliberations.

Come on, Father, where are you?

As I thought, there's
nothing to be found.

Let's go, Goodfellow.

Just a few more minutes, sir.

Sergeant, I'm ordering
you to desist, immediately!

Deo gratias,

I think I've found it.

That was quick.

Is that a good thing?

- Hey, get this tractor moved.
- It won't start.

- You can't move it?
- No.

You'll have to turn
around, Goodfellow.

Do you find the defendant
guilty or not guilty

of the murder of
Theodore Neville-Crowley?

Guilty, My Lord.

- Wait, My Lord, wait!
- What's the meaning of this, Inspector?

Apologies for the interruption,

but I have new evidence that has
a significant bearing on the case.

My Lord, we've already
reached a verdict.

Thank you, Mr. Sharpe,
I'm aware of that.

This is highly
irregular, Inspector.

But I will hear this evidence.

Mr. Sharpe, Mr. Quinton,
please join me in my chambers.

We should go.

Mrs. Neville-Crowley, will
you come with me, please?

- We have some questions for you.
- What about?

I remember when we first met.

You won't have
met my wife, Margot.

Hello.

It was the day after Teddy's
death and you were wearing gloves.

And yet you take such
pride in your colorful nails.

This is absurd.

Quite.

Could someone please explain
what the devil is going on?

I shall, if you'll permit me.

I believe the gloves
concealed an injury,

when you tore off a single nail

and lost in the grass
at Teddy's estate.

That could be anyone's.

May I see your hands,
please, Mrs. Neville-Crowley?

It can take up to six months
for a natural one to grow back.

What on Earth does that prove?

A brittle fingernail
could easily snap off

as you dragged Teddy's
dead weight across the lawn.

It was natural to assume that all the
blood on Teddy's clothes was his own.

And I suspect that the blood on
the sock will be your blood type.

I saw him follow
Bunty that night.

Someone had to stop him.

I wanted to help her.
But she didn't need it.

She fought back.

- You, stay away from me!
- Steady on, it was just a bit of fun!

I decided to do the same.

No.

Margot...

..tell them it's not true.

It can't be true.

Why would you
kill Teddy for that?

Because it had happened before.

What Teddy did to Lucy,
what he tried to do to Bunty...

..did he do the same to you?

I didn't want you to know.

I didn't want anyone to know!

Oh, my darling...

I'm sorry.

I'm so, so sorry!

I didn't come forward
because I was afraid.

When Bunty was arrested,

I prayed they wouldn't
have enough to convict her.

I don't expect
her to forgive me.

I don't forgive myself.

Do you truly
repent of your sins?

I do, Father.

I do repent.

Then God will forgive you.

Miss Windermere, in light
of new, compelling evidence

which throws your conviction into
doubt, I am now going to allow you bail

whilst the police make urgent
enquiries, pending an appeal.

You are free to go at this time.

Oh, Father.

I should've known you'd
do it. You always do.

It was a joint effort,
I can assure you.

Thank you so much. Both of you.

All in a day's work,
Miss Windermere.

And I for one never
doubted your innocence.

Now, I've emptied it
and given it a good clean,

so it's up to you if
you wish to fill it again.

Thank you, Mrs. McCarthy, but
I think I'll be just fine without it.

Hear, hear.

And from now on, I shall
steer clear of champagne.

After tonight, of course.

Well, I can celebrate, can't I?

Will that girl never learn?