Episode 8 The Paradise

Four yards of the blue silk.

Blue! Why blue?

From now on everything must be scarlet and black -

le rouge et le noir!

Mademoiselle Clemence!

But you are asking, "Mais pourquoi le rouge et le noir?"

I answer, because of the passion that has taken Paris by storm

and sweeps all before it.

Hazard!

France is giddy with infatuation.

We play to see what we will wear today,

who will we marry today!

What do you say, madame? Will you hazard with me?

If you win, it is a blue.

If I win, you will try the scarlet.

Sam, you are my good luck!

Call a number between five and nine.

Seven.

Then I say

I will cast a seven.

Quelle malchance!

Sam, we lose. Madame will take the blue.

But please, not four yards only.

Skirts will be very full next season,

you have it from the lips of Paris.

I'll take six yards...

of the blue AND the scarlet.

And where can I get those dice?

Clemence?

At The Paradise, madame. Only at The Paradise!

Moray, mon cher.

Not that I'm not delighted to see you...

Why are you here?

Didn't you hear, darling?

I bring you the fever that is sweeping all Paris!

You bring me dice that can be bought at any French port

for five sous a piece.

And where did you pick them up? Calais?

Paris was becoming uncomfortable.

Oh, dear.

That doesn't sound good.

It is true what they say -

hell knows no fury like a woman scorned.

Her tantrums and tears were insupportable.

I wanted a change of scene quickly.

Et voila!

Clemence, you are incorrigible.

These, these are clever!

How many did you bring?

As many as I could fit into my valise.

I'll take them all.

Of course!

Now, tell me, how are all my friends?

How is Denise?

Yes, she's very well.

She's...

She's, er, head of Ladieswear.

Oh, no, John. What has happened?

You and Denise, you were made for each other.

We...she didn't think that we could...

Actually, Clemence. Do you mind if we don't?

KNOCKING AT THE DOOR Yes!

Please, Mr Moray, sir.

Mr Dudley says the customers are asking for dice

and we have none.

And if this is one of your famous schemes,

he wishes you'd told him first.

Thank you, Arthur. Tell Dudley I'm on my way.

Right!

I thought you brave to risk The Paradise for love.

But to wear such a smile when your heart is all desolation,

that is true courage.

Pauvre enfant,

I could almost love you myself.

-DENISE:

-'And you're sure it was her?'

Mm. Large as life and twice as French.

She's in with Mr Moray now, if you want to see her.

I...have to get back.

I'm sure I'll find her later.

My feelings exactly.

Women - unfathomable.

She loves him, but she won't go near him.

Whoa! You all right?

This place takes people like that, sometimes.

Let's get the weight off your feet.

Here.

Here.

Paradise...

It is paradise!

Not for everyone...

not for everyone.

Clemence!

I'm so happy to see you.

And I you, cherie. But what is it I hear,

you and Moray breaking each other's hearts. Why?

We do not want the same thing.

He wants you.

You want him.

Not in the same way.

I am his most prized possession.

You would be loved as you yourself love.

Yes!

But what if that is not possible?

Then...

I shall have to learn to live with a broken heart.

It is her! It is!

Oh, will we all go out again, like last time?

Just the girls to the Three Crowns?

But without question!

We four et la merveilleuse Myrtle.

But that is for later. Now, I have a gift for Denise.

And not just for Denise, for Ladieswear.

Whatever I tell them downstairs,

this is the true vogue in Paris, today.

Rouge.

Only the very boldest dare wear it.

But even those who dare not

buy it in case one day they should find the courage.

But women who paint their faces are not nice.

They work on the street.

Exactement.

So when Madame walks into a salon with her face painted thus,

and her head held high,

she's telling the world,

"I am who I say I am, let no-one else dare to define me!"

It is a gauntlet thrown at the feet of polite society.

This is not Paris.

But if there is anyone who can sell Paris here, it is you, Denise.

So these are not just a gift,

they are a challenge.

Your purchases will be waiting for you at the parcels desk.

As to the hazard dice you were enquiring after,

I believe they'll be with us later today.

Hazard -

a few hours ago, nobody's heard of the game.

Now...

I suppose that's the thing with a craze, eh?

Eh?

(Arthur! Arthur!)

Arthur, find Mr Moray

and tell him to come and tell him to come now!

But I'm helping Mademoiselle Clemence with her dice.

The dice can wait. This...

cannot.

You were up early this morning.

I was woken by a caller.

A caller?

On a false errand.

The person he sought does not live here.

But by happy accident I was able to do some business with him myself.

Is that damson jelly?

Perfect.

Is that why you are in such a jolly mood?

Sometimes, Flora,

life seems full of possibility and promise.

Apparently Mademoiselle Romanis has returned to The Paradise.

Clemence?

I thought her in France.

An impromptu visit, I believe.

I shall make sure to give her your best.

Who is he?

I don't know!

He looked tired so I offered him a seat,

the next thing I know he's...

What is it?

He's a sailor.

Yes.

But not an English one, that's French.

And this is French tailoring - the best.

Did he sound foreign?

I only heard him say three words.

Mr Moray, sir.

A French sailor, with a taste for fine tailoring,

and the annual salary of a working man in his pocket.

Quite a mystery.

Er, Mr Weston!

Dudley told me.

I met him this morning.

He came to the Hall.

He'd been...misdirected.

Er, who is he?

He didn't give a name.

Imagine a small group of customers, hand-picked.

Women who feel they can lead fashion rather than be led by it.

Now imagine a corner of Ladieswear,

dressed as a boudoir.

The woman who inhabits it has just stepped out

and may return at any moment.

Her scent lingers in the air.

On the dressing table, a bottle of perfume.

We imagine her dabbing it on her wrists,

her neck...

There's an evening stole, a fan...

..a dance card.

And in the middle,

a beautiful pot of rouge.

Beside it, a woman's necklace, carelessly cast aside,

tangled and tumbled with a man's cuff links.

Denise...

may I be excused to get a glass of cold water?

I'm feeling awfully strange.

THEY GIGGLE A glass of cold water?

A cold bath, more like it.

If that doesn't sell it, nothing will.

The parish will take him and bury him.

But because his identity is not known,

it must be in an unmarked grave.

That's a pauper's burial. That man had money!

An unmarked grave in an unknown land...

I would not wish so solitary an end on anyone.

Mademoiselle Clemence!

If he's recently come from France,

she may have encountered him on her journey.

she may even have met him.

Though perhaps it's not proper to show a woman a...

(deceased person.)

Oh, I feel sure Mademoiselle Clemence

would be equal to the task.

Don't you, Moray?

Non.

I've never seen him before. I'm sorry.

Not at all, Clemence.

We appreciate your trying.

We could use his money to buy a plot and pay for a burial.

A headstone can come later, if his identity is ever learned.

Find somewhere to put him until arrangements can be made.

Moray can't be expected to share his office with a corpse.

FLORA: I love the river when it is like this, don't you?

All deep and still and quiet,

as if it were asleep.

Mrs Weston, have a care. You might slip,

the ground is dangerous here.

I don't know what happened.

I was feeling faint and the water...

I'm very grateful to you.

I've walked by that river many times

when my thoughts have been turbulent.

I walked there this morning for that reason.

I fear I have...

..nothing.

Everything I had, I cast away.

It is lost.

You have the child.

I have her on sufferance only.

He can take her from me.

He WILL take her from me.

I have destroyed everything I set out to protect.

I've hurt those that I sought to shield.

I have become the harm I feared.

And yet today, you were my salvation.

Then there is hope

for both of us.

My husband was a soldier.

He has suffered as other men have not.

He has wounds...

terrible wounds,

his back laid open by swords.

And he bears this pain alone,

in secret.

I thought once to be his comfort.

You make me believe such a thing could yet be possible.

Mama, will you come? I have made a daisy chain.

Of course, my darling.

Oh!

Only I do...I do feel so strange.

Have you that grown-up sickness again, Mama?

It is so long since you had it last -

weeks and weeks.

Miss Clemence said we would all go to the Three Crowns again.

And she asked for you by name.

-She never did!

-"Marvellous Myrtle" she called you.

At least, I think that's what she said.

Well, if that is not cause to crack out a party dress,

I don't know what is!

For a girls' night out in the Three Crowns?

Who's going to care?

Excuse me! The girls will care.

P'raps I shall take the opportunity to christen my new bustier.

God help us all!

Denise?

I know you don't sleep, but if you don't eat either

you're not going to last long enough to start selling that rouge!

I've had an idea...

about our French friend.

Edmund Lovett's shop.

We cannot put a corpse in a man's shop without his knowledge.

Denise has the keys and authority to act for her uncle.

Perhaps if you were to talk to her.

Dudley!

Explain the situation!

She will help, I am sure of it.

The powder is so light,

it requires the softest touch.

A dusting on the lips

and on the cheeks...

Like the flush of love

or the first time you looked in a glass

and knew you were beautiful.

The effect is...

lovely.

But it is impossible.

A painted face?

My husband would never allow it.

Perhaps, your husband would not know.

He thinks such preparations gaudy and brash.

But this is sweet and delicate

and gentle...

..like a kiss on your skin.

Denise,

I'm sorry to interrupt.

It makes no difference. They weren't going to buy.

How can I help?

I have a favour to ask, concerning your uncle's shop.

We do not know his name

or who his people might be.

But I wish for him to be buried

with the care and consideration I would give a friend.

But until arrangements can be made...

he needs a place to rest.

My uncle's keys are inside.

You could have come in.

Thank you.

We should at least try to find a way of being normal with each other.

Denise, I...

It is hard for me even to be near you, at the moment.

But to be in the same room,

to be so close

and not be able to touch you...

I will learn, I'm sure I will learn.

Just...

not yet.

Jonas. I was looking for you today.

You were not to be found.

I am sorry, sir. I will not be from my station again.

Moray. I hear we have a hit -

dice.

Yes, yes, we've already sold out.

There's a waiting list.

Hm, a fad. It'll be over before it has begun.

But the gain to our reputation will remain.

People are saying if you want to know what London will be doing tomorrow,

look in The Paradise today.

Hm, very neat.

Perhaps you should have that engraved on a plaque.

I was thinking perhaps a tattoo(!)

There she is!

Myrtle! Don't tell me - a new bustier.

You look magnificent.

You see! Women dress for other women because other women notice.

Oh, we shall have a night of it, tonight!

It's women only, lads! It is women only!

Small mercies.

Unless you'd prefer an evening with the gentlemen.

I see one of them, at least, has his eye on you.

This is what I give for an evening with a gentleman!

Ils n'en valent vraiment pas la peine!

I don't know what she's saying but I like the way she says it!

So, what is it to be?

The Three Crowns and perhaps a little dinner,

a little dancing?

Mademoiselle Romanis.

I wonder, might I beg the favour of a word?

It is delightful to see you back.

Oh, I am delighted to be back.

And delighted, I am sure,

to have escaped all that unpleasantness in Paris.

An acquaintance of yours called at the Hall this morning

under the mistaken impression he would find you with us.

I had to disappoint him,

but we got talking.

He said he was...

Oh, what was the word he used?

Ah, yes, a sangsue -

a blood sucker.

Though I believe debt collector is the more common term.

What do you want?

Oh, I already have what I want.

My debts? He sold them to you?

I'm only sorry he never got to enjoy his ill-gotten gains.

What will you do with them?

Well, I thought we might discuss that over dinner.

Of course, you will have to tell your...friends

that you're now unavailable.

Tomorrow. Please.

But I am hungry now.

I am sorry.

I had forgotten a prior engagement.

See, a bad mood of this magnitude,

I'd normally say too much drink,

but seeing as your evening was cancelled...

Four lasses stood up by the same person at the same time.

You've got to hand it to the French.

Stop it, Sam.

Oh, let him! It's true, isn't it?

She made fools of all of us.

"That for an evening with the men."

My arse!

I didn't like her anyway. I think women should be more...

modest.

We don't know why Clemence did what she did.

I don't think she looked very happy about it.

She can look after herself, that one, trust me.

Knows exactly what side her bloody brioche is buttered.

DIE ROLLS ON TABLE And get that bloody French dice out of my refectory!

I was wondering what your plans were for this evening.

I'm dining out.

What a shame.

It has been so long since we dined together.

Too long.

Do you remember, when we were first married,

how you would send the servants away in the evening?

You would sit by me and pour my wine.

I do.

I do remember.

You were so tender,

yet so...withheld.

I thought I had a lifetime to fathom the secrets in your eyes.

But then we came here.

And I learned the secret had a name...

Moray.

And little by little I watched,

as his nearness turned your tenderness to anguish.

I don't doubt you've endured the destruction of your dreams.

We have that in common, at least.

But do not...

do not insult the hopes I once cherished

by trying now to resurrect

what you so thoroughly laid to waste.

I have found someone else to comfort me.

I no longer need you.

If only it weren't so red.

I think you'll find the clue's in the name.

You're just going to have to admit defeat on this one, Denise.

But it's gorgeous! It feels like silk when you brush it on.

-It even smells divine.

-What's that?

Mm, otto of roses.

How do you know it's otto of roses?

Otto of roses, white starch, a bit of carmine for the colour.

I'm a cook.

I know what goes in most things by smelling 'em.

My mother, now, she'd a nose like a bloodhound.

Made her own preparations, too.

She'd a cream would turn your skin to satin.

Face like an old boot, God rest her, but to touch...

Oh! You have never known anything so soft.

And do you know what she put in these creams?

I know WHAT she put in.

Just don't know how much.

Kept her quantities close to her chest.

Myrtle, how do you feel about

a little after-hours experimenting?

I've spoken to the undertaker.

The body will be moved to Edmund's shop

and lie there until the burial takes place, tomorrow.

You should inform Denise.

What? Why?

Because it's her uncle's shop.

Because she gave us the keys.

-Because if the two of you could only talk to each other...

-Dudley,

I know you mean it as a kindness

but to be always putting us in each other's paths,

it is a torment.

I can't just stand by and watch you suffer.

It'll get easier.

It is getting easier, I can feel it.

You'll need the water hotter

if you want the spermaceti to melt this time.

It's already burning my hands!

Beauty comes at a price.

Now the rose water and the oils.

Slowly...

Oh, and to think, I could be at the pub.

Stop! Now into the cold water.

Perfect!

Not quite.

What are you doing?

The scent of roses and the faintest hint...

of a blush.

Myrtle, you are beautiful.

-Oh, you...

-I know, I know!

And before you say it, I deserve every word.

But what if I told you that tomorrow night

is my very last night of freedom

and that I have come to ask you all to spend it with me.

What are you talking about?

I was not honest with Moray about my reasons for leaving France.

There were debts,

prison if I could not pay, and I could not.

So I ran.

But someone came after me.

I don't blame him, he was doing his job.

He sold my debts to Tom Weston.

And now Weston gives me a choice -

become his mistress or face prison.

Oh, no, please!

I don't want your pity,

I want your company.

Tomorrow night at the Three Crowns?

Won't you come and drink with me?

I bloody will.

Bloody need a bloody drink after that!

His last night above ground.

I didn't think he should spend it alone.

Death raises questions about life,

about purpose...

If we're going to talk about life, death and purpose,

I'm going to need another drink.

Luckily, I know where Edmund keeps his brandy.

DOOR OPENS, BELL JINGLES

I saw the light.

Oh, welcome to the party.

It is a vigil.

With refreshments.

But it's wrong. It's so wrong.

Yes, it is wrong.

But if you play with fire - and I do - sometimes, you will get burnt.

So what should I do - curse the fire? Curse myself?

Or hold on to the things that make life worth living?

Liberty, friendship, love...

I'll raise a glass to that.

Enough of my story!

Tell it to your daughters, to scare them into obedience.

I want to know what potion were three of you

brewing like witches last night.

Myrtle's mother's cream,

which Denise has tinted with your rouge.

A secret between you and your skin.

Oh! I could take this to any shop in any city in the world

and, by tomorrow, there would be queues in the street.

You are a genius.

No, I mean it.

You are a genius.

But not in love.

Why, with all your flair and passion and elan,

why cannot you and he find a way to be together?

Clemence, please.

Please don't make it any harder.

I'm sorry, cherie.

It is just that I must believe in love.

Now more than ever.

I must believe that Tom Weston's way is not the only way

and that love - real love - can triumph.

I shall have to speak to Edmund about the quality of his brandy.

I am carrying quite a head this morning.

At least he was not alone.

See, I don't know why you think this man's death was such

a sad and solitary affair.

If I had to venture an opinion, I'd say he died happy.

"It is paradise."

He looked about, that's what he said.

Perhaps he could already see something you couldn't.

Or perhaps he was exactly where he wanted to be.

Just happy.

What would it take to be so fulfilled?

Every man has to decide for himself what it is

that makes life worth living.

And if a man loses the things

that makes his life worth living, what then?

That would depend on the man.

I have lost The Paradise.

I've lost Denise.

I've not been able to win either of them back.

I thought that this would grow easier,

but every day, the pain, it gets worse.

Moray, I've never been the one with the answers.

Dudley...

I am...

..lost.

I'm asking you.

You're my closest friend.

What would you have me do?

Very well.

I would not have you as you are now,

as you have been these past weeks.

Resigned, accepting, defeated.

I would have you fight.

Fight on.

With what? I have nothing.

You have everything you started with.

Dudley, that was nothing.

Exactly.

Come on. Time to go home.

No, please! Please stay.

It is so mournful to drink alone.

We're not leaving you.

You're coming with us.

I am?

Perhaps Papa learned that we were having fish

and that is why he stayed away.

It is his least favourite, you know.

Then someone should have told him there is syllabub for dessert.

Everyone loves syllabub.

Please remove Mr Weston's place setting.

Tell me the truth. Am I drunk?

Just a little.

But I have agreed to meet Tom Weston.

I have to give him my answer.

You have to lie down first.

We can't let this happen, Clara.

We can't.

There's such an ache of loneliness about Tom Weston, Denise.

It could break your heart.

What he's doing is wrong, but God knows, there's been times

when I'd have done whatever I could to feel someone's arms around me

and know I wasn't alone.

Something in him is broken.

I don't know what it is, but be careful.

Jonas!

I...I couldn't sleep.

Nor I. So many comings and goings.

How is Mademoiselle Romanis?

She's...

She's in trouble.

Mr Weston has acquired letters of promise that she is unable

to honour and he is using them to coerce her into...

-an arrangement.

-And you would seek to help her?

I can't stand by and watch.

Then I will come with you.

No! Jonas, I'm truly grateful,

but what Mr Weston would see as a plea coming from a woman,

he would see as a challenge coming from a man.

Then you must go armed.

Tom Weston has a secret.

The pain of it and the shame of it are what drives him.

-It will also be the undoing of him.

-I don't understand.

He was a young officer in the Indian Mutiny.

The city of Delhi was besieged. Many men died.

Tom Weston survived, a hero.

But he had secret wounds.

Sword cuts to his back.

As if he had tried to run and was set upon by one of his own...

You can't know that.

I know men.

Tom Weston is a man in torment.

He is a man who met himself one terrible day

and despises the coward he found himself to be.

Do you understand, Denise?

That is why he looks for comfort, for escape,

to lose himself within another.

Because the pain of who he is is so unendurable to him.

I want you to use this knowledge as a weapon against him.

You must use it as you will.

Denise!

You're waiting for Mademoiselle Romanis.

She's at The Paradise, indisposed.

I'm her messenger.

Has she reached a decision?

She accepts your proposal.

But I wish you would reconsider.

There are some feelings which are so unendurable

we would do anything to escape them.

But we cannot. We can only distract ourselves for a while.

If I could buy my way out of the ache in my heart, I would.

But some things cannot be bought.

And to try to buy that which can only be given freely

would be a comfortless thing.

Did Mademoiselle Romanis send you here to negotiate with me?

No. I act for myself.

You're a daring strategist for a shop girl.

And you are a good businessman, for a soldier.

A woman's life for a few debts?

That's a hard bargain.

HE LAUGHS

Sir!

WESTON GASPS

Mr Weston! Sir!

I'm sorry.

I have wounds.

Old wounds.

From India?

What do you know of India?

Nothing, I...

You cannot spend a lifetime punishing yourself

for a moment's lapse driven by fear.

But don't you see? Nor can you escape it by punishing another.

You dare to tell me what can and cannot be?

You dare presume to know me?!

You tell Mademoiselle Romanis to be ready.

You tell her I am coming for her!

Mr Weston.

Jonas.

Turn back, sir.

Go home to your family.

No-one will ever know what passed here.

You came here with Denise.

I did. Though she did not know it.

You!

It was you who told her!

WESTON LAUGHS

How long did it take you to piece my story together?

Watching from the shadows,

listening at doors.

You spoke to me as a friend.

You let me believe you were my man!

I serve The Paradise.

I am The Paradise!

No, sir, you are not.

And I will not allow you to avenge yourself on those who are.

Get out of my way.

Get out of my way!

Susy, sh. Go back to bed.

-But...

-Sh.

-My luggage...

-We collected it from the hotel.

I don't understand.

There's enough in there for a train to the port

and a ticket on the boat.

France means prison, I can't go back.

The boat to America.

Money. This is your money?

I can't take it.

You can and you will.

I went to Tom Weston.

I tried to make things better and I made them so much worse.

He will know I had help. He will know who helped me.

There are other places to work.

Not sure we could carry on, anyway, knowing what he was doing to you.

Knowing he was doing what to her?

FLORA WEEPS

Flora, my darling, what is it?

Was it a bad dream?

It is not a dream! Papa will send you away.

He will send you away and I will be alone!

Flora, listen to me.

We belong to each other, now.

Do you understand? All of us.

We belong to each other and we will be together.

Come.

What are we doing?

Are you brave enough to venture out into such a black night?

I am never scared with you.

That is because you make me brave.

And when you are with me, there is

no-one in the world stronger than I am.

There.

-DENISE:

-He's coming for her.

If she's going to get away, she has to go now.

-You can say you saw nothing, sir.

-Please, John.

He cannot do this! He cannot own you.

You are not...

You are not his possession.

Mademoiselle Romanis.

Denise. Clara.

She didn't know. The noise woke her, she tried to stop us.

Go, Clara.

You should've reined her in while you had the chance, Moray.

Your creature, your little champion.

She is not MY anything.

She is her own. As is Clemence.

Oh, no, Mademoiselle Romanis is bought and paid for.

Her debts are bought and paid for.

Give me 24 hours.

I'll find the money. I'll buy them back.

They are not for sale.

Then...

I'll play you for them.

Hazard? You would need a stake,

and you have nothing that I want.

You want me gone.

If I win, you'll return Clemence's debts to her.

If you win...

I go.

Where?

Away.

Away from The Paradise,

the city, the country!

-No!

-Moray...

And you will not return?

I will not return. You have my word.

Very well.

But let us dispense with the notion that this is a game.

One throw each.

Highest roll wins.

Clemence?

Merci.

Your past is none of my affair,

but your actions today, they were the work of a true coward.

Wait!

I will play you again.

I will play you for The Paradise.

Department by department.

And my stake?

The same every time - your exile.

Or are you too much the coward to risk so much?

John, please, don't.

This is not brave, this is insane.

You'd have to win every throw. Every throw.

Denise...

I had The Paradise, I had you.

I've lost them both.

Don't you see? I have nothing more to lose.

The Great Hall.

The Great Hall.

I have come for my husband.

He's inside with Moray.

They are playing dice for The Paradise.

Two in a row.

But your luck will not hold.

It cannot.

You have lost half your shop.

Would you really rather bring down your own world

than see him prosper, just a little?

Your cast.

Get out! Throw.

Not before the child!

-Throw!

-Not before the child!

Flora, go with Denise.

Miss Flora, have you ever seen The Paradise at night time?

I did, once, have a dream of Moray.

But, I promise you...

that dream is dead.

I am free of it.

There was a kindness between us once.

Could we not look for it again?

That dream is also dead.

Then we must make a new dream.

For Flora's sake.

And the sake of the child that is coming.

Come home.

I will send away the servants and I will sit beside you.

And we will talk.

Let me be your comfort now.

It is like a secret world.

If I lived here, I'd wander around all night.

-Do you?

-I used to.

I thought you would lose.

I thought I would lose you.

What would you have done?

Followed.

To hear you say those things and know that you meant them.

You don't know how much I've longed for that.

You are my equal

and more.

I look at you now and I see myself.

That is how I know

you will never be content in my shadow.

It is not my Paradise you need,

it is your own.

No! I want you.

I want to work with you and grow with you.

It's yours.

Everything I won from Weston, I give you,

gladly, freely, with all my heart.

Yours.

Sweetheart, don't you see?

You will never be happy,

you will never be happy with me

until you've built something that is yours and yours alone.

But to do that I'd have to go.

I'd have to leave you.

Yes, you would.

You will.

I would rather see you walk away

than keep you beside me,

only to watch the light go out of your eyes.

I love you too much.

Jonas.

Is it over, sir?

Yes, it's... It's over.

Arthur! I need you to deliver this

and bring the answer back as fast as you can.

-Can you do that?

-Yes!

Clara, take charge!

My uncle's shop.

But not as a drapery any more, as a beauty emporium with

creams for the complexion and oils and powders and scented balms.

Mr Ballantine has agreed to invest in me. He will be my backer.

And I will be here.

I will be here.

And when I've made my name...

Not your fortune?

Both.

I will come to you

and ask you, most humbly,

if you will do me the honour of becoming my husband.

Will you say yes?

Yes.

-Do you promise?

-Yes.

Yes.

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd