Lark Rise to Candleford (2008–2011): Season 3, Episode 4 - Episode #3.4 - full transcript

LAURA: If ever a Lark
Rise woman was caught

hoarding her best clothes
rather than wearing them,

she would say that she was saving them,

"for high days an' holidays
an' bonfire nights".

BOY: Tomorrow!

Tomorrow!

Tomorrow! It's tomorrow!

Farmer says we're done
waiting. We're bringing it in.

(EXCITED MURMURING)

Though in truth

there was only one
occasion in the calendar



that really called
for a special toilette.

The most important event of the year.

The day we brought the harvest home.

I have two words for thee,

and them two words is Mr Alf
Arless, king o' the mowers.

(CHEERING)

QUEENIE: My Alfie, king of the mowers!

I think I found my harvest queen.

Congratulations, Alf.

Twister.

What are the odds on Alfie bringing
home the harvest in under two weeks?

I'm afraid, after the
unfortunate events of last year,

I made a promise to my Queenie
that I would gamble no more.

You made seven and six
taking bets on the harvest,



then lost the lot in a beetle
race in the Wagon and Horses!

It ain't been brought in in under
a fortnight this last decade.

I'll give you ten to one.

A shilling says he does it in 12 days.

Taken?

Taken. (CHUCKLES)

We must be getting back. Thank
you, Mrs Turrill, for inviting us.

You come any time
you've a mind, Miss Lane.

Queenie, I fear that
Sydney is not happy.

He is happy. You're doing a good job.

But I lack the magic to turn
my Little Man into a little boy.

Not magic
- the harvest.

See, us women and children,

we're allowed to pick up what the
reapers and binders leave behind.

And that bundle of wheat,
that's called our leazings,

that sees us through the winter.

What do you think, Sydney?

All day in the outdoors
with the other children,

and a party at the end of it with the king
of the mowers choosing his harvest queen.

Should you like that, Sydney?

To help with the harvest in Lark Rise?

Well, then Laura and Thomas
Brown shall look after business

and you and I shall have
a harvest holiday. Mm?

Why the frown?

Weather's gonna hold.
Never seen a sky like it.

Last year I had Edmund helping
as well as Frank and Ethel,

and then, the flour from our leazings
only just saw us through the winter.

They know they're going to have
to step up now Edmund's working.

Annie's too young to understand.

And now she's walking, I can't take
my eyes off her for more than a second.

You're just going to have
to ask someone to help.

I am.

I was going to ask Dorcas,
but she's joining us now.

And Laura's on her own in the post
office, and everyone else is in the field.

I thought if you could
just... take her with you.

To work?!

I'll keep her away from the scythes,

but that might be as
much as I can manage.

You always manage.

Oh, Robert, not even I can
bake bread without flour.

Rain stopped play at Lord's.

There's measles in Oxford.

Oh, poor Lord Haverstock
of Bramhope has passed away.

From exhaustion, I imagine.

There are children bearing his likeness
in every village from here to Inglestone.

Pearl, we should not speak ill.
The man is a confirmed libertine.

He leaves a bereft widow and
five grief-stricken daughters.

Five? Did you say five
daughters? Grief-stricken.

Well, come on. There is no time to lose!

QUEENIE: Come on, little Patience.

When you get tired of carrying your
baby sister, you pass her to me.

And when I get tired, I
shall pass her to Lizzie.

And so we shall pass her round all day

like one of Laura's parcels.

Look. Eugh, Archie!

ALL SHOUT: Hey now, all done!

I don't believe a king of the mowers
ever stood beneath a finer sky,

or before finer men.

Strong backs, strong hands,
strong hearts for the job.

Sydney, look. It's in my
pocket. That's disgusting!

ALFIE: Shall we bring her in?

ALL: Aye!

Do it now, Archie!

Some rascal child's dropped
a worm down my breeches!

QUEENIE: That'll be two little critters
wriggling round down there, then.

Emma, where's Annie?

Annie? Annie?

Annie? Annie?

Annie? Annie!

Annie?

Annie?

Annie? Annie!

Whoa!

Annie! She can't have gone far.

Annie! Annie?

She could be anywhere.

She could be in a ditch.
She could be in the well.

The well is clear. The
cover has not been displaced.

Emma, we can't see her
does not mean she's gone.

(BABY GRIZZLING)

(ANNIE BURBLING)

Hello.

Hello.

Annie!

Annie! Annie, where did you go?

I found her on the road. I thought
she might belong to Lark Rise.

She, er, she has a
look of Laura about her.

Hey! Oh, where did you go?

Daniel, we were not expecting you.

Are you following a story?

Er...I've been given a holiday.

So you came to see Laura?

Yes.

I came to see Laura.

Thank you for taking such good
care of my youngest daughter.

I only wish I could trust you
to do the same with my eldest.

Mrs Brown, am I right in thinking that
as you are not teaching Sydney today,

you are at leisure? Yes.

Then I have an idea.

My dear, I...

Oh, Thomas Brown.

Such a day we are having.

We have been baking!

Hello, Annie.

Hello, little one.

Ho!

ALF: # Jackie boy MEN: # Master

# Sing ye well? # Very well

# Hey down # Ho down

ALL: # Derry, derry down

# Among the leaves so green

# To my hey, down, down
# To my ho, down, down

# Hey down # Ho down

ALL: # Derry, derry, down

# Among the leaves so green, oh

# The keeper he did hunting go

# And under his coat, he carried a bow

# All for to shoot a merry little doe

# Among the leaves so green, oh

# Jackie Boy # Master

# Sing ye well? # Very well

# Hey down # Ho down

# Derry, derry down

# Among the leaves so green, oh! #

Miss Lane says Alf must choose a queen

to wear his garland and dance with
him when the harvest comes home.

But probably it's the prettiest
girl in the harvest that gets chose.

King of the mowers can pick anyone.

Ma, sister, sweetheart...

Or perhaps just some girl who's been
bringing him treats in the field.

When you are taking Miss Lane
and Little Man their picnic,

you might pop a handful of Miss
Lane's greengages in the basket.

Alf does love a greengage.

(SHOP BELL RINGS)

Black-edged cards. Do you sell them?

Yes, ma'am.

Deepest and most
heartfelt condolences...

I hope you have not...? Oh, no.

Only there are five daughters, and
they will need to purchase mourning.

Dear husband and beloved father,

pillar of the...establishment...

You said he was a libertine.

This is a card of condolence, Ruby.

There is no call for honesty.

And yet they may honestly be grieving.

In which case drawing attention
to the iniquitous character

of the dearly departed would hardly
be tactful, would it? Envelope?

This must be in the next post.

Yes. Come along, Ruby.

You did not say you were coming.

No, it wasn't planned.
You look so tired.

I forget how you look,

how you...

truly look, until I have you before me.

Daniel, are you all right?

Laura, what colour is greengrages?

You are busy. I will, um...

I will see you later.

# Jackie boy # Master

# Sing ye well? # Very well

# Hey down # Ho down

# Derry, derry down

# Among the leaves so green, oh... #

(SINGING CONTINUES)

Man needs more than tea,
working at a pace like this.

Ruinous, it is.

Plain ruinous.

Don't suppose you'd care to hazard
a shilling on the chances of Alfie

looking your way for harvest queen?

# Jackie Boy # Master

# Sing ye well? # Very well... #

FRANK: Sydney!

(SINGING CONTINUES)

Up!

You got the thistle, Sydney?

Drop it now.

Aaargh!

(LAUGHING)

Archie Arless, wait till I get you home!

I should check your
bed tonight, my dear.

I think that boy of yours has
a stag beetle in his pocket.

You look very flushed, Sydney.

Perhaps we ought not to overdo
it on our first day. Too much sun.

But I'm having fun. Then Miss Lane

will bring you back tomorrow.

We'll be in these
fields a good while yet.

Not long enough.

Green-gorgeous. I was bringing some
for Miss Lane and Little Man and...

And you thought the way to a mower
king's heart was through his stomach.

Don't mind them, it's
just harvest jokes.

They know you're like a sister to me.

Oh, I hope she has not been a trouble.

She has been a joy!

I don't suppose you would consider...?

Yes! No.

She has been a joy. She is...a joy.

I'm sorry.

Alfie.

I got to tell you, Alfie,

There's grumblings. Grumblings?

You're driving 'em too hard.

Men don't like to be driv.

Now, if you was to go gentle on
them, ease the pace a little...

What odds did you give me on bringing
it home in less than a fortnight?

Not long enough, damn your eyes.

Robert Timmins laid a
shilling you'd do it in 12.

Well, I say I'll do it in ten.

It ain't been done in under
two weeks this last ten year!

It ain't had me in charge
this last ten year. Yo!

Back to work, everyone.

I think a cake. Don't you?

Sydney?

We went into the fields for fun.

But my Lark Rise friends
do it because if they don't,

they won't have any bread in the winter.

You are very hot.

I am only very tired. Good night.

Good night.

A deceased lord with five daughters,

all needing mourning
of the highest quality.

You have such shadows under your eyes.

There has been an epidemic in Oxford.

I was covering the fever hospitals.

I have not slept over much.

I had already affixed the stamp.

You may steam it off and
use it on return if you wish.

Affixed?

Affixed?

If they were to cut you open, Laura
Timmins, they would find the words

"Her Majesty's Post Office"
through and through your heart,

like a stick of rock.

That is not what you'd
find written on my heart.

You came to the post office to
see me and then you ran away again.

Why are you here?

Because I can't stay away.

I am restless when I am not with you,

and confused when I am.

Am I really so bewildering?

There is a newspaper,

the Cambridge Herald.

The proprietor has been
in Oxford visiting friends.

He's seen my coverage of the epidemic.

He has offered me a post.

I have accepted it.

You will not be returning?

You are wrong to run away, Daniel.

I am due back in Oxford tomorrow.
Cambridge the day after that.

You are wrong.

The longer I leave it,

the harder it will be.

I'm sorry.

Sydney, it is time to get up.

Sydney?

(SYDNEY BREATHES HEAVILY)

She's so hot.

Perhaps it's her teeth. She'll settle.

And if she doesn't? We'll manage.

I can't be here and in the field.

You stay, my dear. I'll
take Ethel and Frank with me,

and we'll all work doubly hard
to make up for your ma. Shan't we?

CHILDREN: Yes.

You may trust us to provide
you with all that is needful.

And once again,

our deepest condolences.

Five new funeral outfits and
rosettes for all the mourners.

Oh, thank God!

Pearl...

We barely had time to get to the
field, it come on him so sudden.

Emma, it smells like measles.

Oh, dear God. Not at harvest time.

Come on, let's get you to bed.

There you go. Good boy.

And ask if, while the crisis lasts,

they would allow you and Laura
to lodge with them at the Stores.

The Stores?

But, ma'am, you will need
help nursing Little Man.

It will help me most to
know that this household

is not a source of contagion to others.

You must explain to our customers
that we will do our best to provide

a temporary service from the
Forge, until Little Man...

until he...

They will understand, ma'am.

They will thank you for
the consideration you show

in quarantining the post
office. How can I do otherwise?

The whole of Candleford
passes through these doors.

Perhaps, being an only
child, ma'am, this all seems

rather strange and alarming to you.

But I am one of many, and measles,

it is a common thing in families.

Thank you, Laura.

I know I can rely on you to keep
things running whilst I am unable to.

Thomas?

First we were eight,

then seven.

Then six.

Measles is a common thing in families.

And some families are left

very reduced by it.

Come on, Archie. I've
got to get you home.

(GROANING)

Stop!

I said stop, damn you! Whoa!

What's happened? I don't know.

I really don't know.

Ssh! (BABY MOANING)

Frank, too?

He's in bed. What about Ethel?

Ethel had it when Laura and Edmund did.

She's stayed in the field with Queenie.

What are we going to do, Robert?

We've always been lucky with measles,
ours have never had it that bad.

If Queenie is happy to
keep Ethel with her...

Ethel is ten years old.

She can't gather enough to see a
family of five through the winter.

What would you have me do,
Emma? I would have you help.

True, the others never had it bad, and
I dare say Frank and Annie won't either,

but I can't leave them.

And if I don't follow the reapers,
we will have no bread this winter.

I'm scared, Robert.

I don't know what to do.

And I want somebody,
I want you, to help me.

(BANGING)

Archie! I didn't know
where else to bring him.

Of course, Laura,

we will be happy to accommodate you
while poor Sydney's crisis lasts.

Thank you. Miss Lane
will be very grateful.

We are all very grateful.

Now, if it is still possible
to send a telegram...

To Lady Haverstock of Bramhope,

as measles present in both
Candleford and Lark Rise,

we felt best to conduct fittings...

There are measles in Lark Rise?

Oh, yes. Mrs Henshaw had it from
her sister's husband's groom.

They are quite overcome.

But it's harvest time.

Apparently no-one informed
the measles of that.

(BABY BABBLING) Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Both of them, Archie and Patience.

What am I going to do?

I can't look after them
and bring the harvest home.

What am I going to do?

(SHOUTING)

This is not a problem for
Alf Arless to manage alone.

For any of us to manage alone.

Every family in this village
relies upon their leazings.

If there was some way
we could work together...

How?

Measles comes, it comes.

Ain't nothing we can do about it.

We can't fight it.

There has been an epidemic in Oxford.

They opened contagion
wards in all the hospitals.

We can't afford no hospitals.

It means that all the sick
can be treated together.

Mr Timmins is right.

Measles will not recognise the walls
that separate you as neighbours.

Perhaps you should follow suit.

But where would we put 'em?

Measles goes round like the very devil.

Every child who didn't have it
last time'll be down with it.

There is our cottage.

All the children know me, and
I'd have my remedies to hand.

If you're here nursing sick
childer, who'll be in the fields?

Where's our flour for the
winter going to come from?

(DISGRUNTLED MURMURING)

From every one of us.

From Lark Rise.

Every child who is well,

every mother who is willing to leave
her ailing children with Queenie,

will leaze in the fields.

Any woman whose children
are too many or too sick

will stay behind and help nurse.

After it is all done we
will pool our leazings,

and we will divide that wheat equally

between every man, woman
and child in Lark Rise.

It ain't gonna be as much
gathered as in a normal year.

But a shortfall divided
among so many will mean

a fraction of the want.

Measles has come,

and it has come at the
worst possible time.

If we work together,

we can salvage something.

If we don't, we can either starve

or we will stand by and watch
while our neighbours starve.

What do you say?

Let's get busy.

You are something of a
communist, Mr Timmins.

I believe the idea came from you.

Oh, I am not a political animal.

I merely observe and report.

This epidemic in Oxford.

Did you have cause to
observe and report deaths?

It is measles. There are always deaths.

But they felt it necessary
to open contagion wards.

More deaths than usual?

Yes.

More deaths than usual.

They say it sometimes happens
when an epidemic is overdue.

It spreads faster, hits harder.

Thomas Brown, when Miss Lane asked
us to keep the post office running

she did not know that there
were measles in Lark Rise.

Are you looking to me to give you
permission, Laura? Or absolution?

For I can do neither.

I should be there.

You also promised to be here.

Duty is a hard taskmaster,
and until Sydney is recovered,

your duty is to Miss
Lane, to the post office...

and to Candleford.

I don't like measles.

But I like this.

Just you and me.

Yes.

Don't go, will you?

Where would I go?

Everything I want is here.

Thomas, Miss Lane has
never nursed a sick child.

Both you and I have experience,
none more than you, Thomas.

Miss Lane has entrusted Laura and I

with the job of keeping
the post office running.

And if Laura, who wishes to be
in Lark Rise with her family,

is staying to do her duty,

then I will stay to do my duty.

Because it is...my duty.

But is it not also your duty
as a friend, as a Christian...

Sydney, our Little Man...

I fear he may be...

very unwell. Yes.

I fear he may... Yes!

You see, I cannot...I cannot...

I cannot.

But surely, Thomas, it is not a
matter of what we feel we can give,

it is what is needed of us.

Right, now, Mr
Pen-pusher, on my count...

One, two, three...

You need those.

Well, now,

how does this compare with
one of your Oxford hospitals?

Smaller and cleaner.

Come morning, I think
we'll be ready for anything.

Though I shall be needing
firewood and water from the well.

I'll do it.

You must be in the fields at
dawn. I have to sit in a carriage.

I can take my leisure then.

Don't revise your opinion of me yet.

I am sure the novelty will
have worn off come the morning.

If it hasn't,

and you can see your way to staying,
we could use the extra hands.

I'm a journalist.

I know nothing of farming.

And I'm a mason.

I believe they are held sharp side down.

I am hoping that knowledge will
be enough to see me through.

I'm sorry.

As you say, the novelty
will probably have worn off.

I've been offered a job.

The job will not wait for me.
I must be in Cambridge tomorrow.

Cambridge?

That's a long way from Candleford.

Too far to visit easily.

Your wife will be pleased.

My wife is generally pleased
when she is proven right,

but on this occasion I think
she would trade that pleasure

for sparing our daughter the pain.

But I thank you... for the
help you have given us today.

I wish you luck.

And I you.

What was decided?

That we share the burden
of caring for the sick,

and that we share also what we
manage to leaze in the field.

So you will miss work for
Lark Rise, but not for me.

Is it the scale of the thing, I wonder?

That you can find it in yourself
to help the many but not the one.

It is not the scale of the thing, Emma,

but the identity of the one.

I can take Alf leaning on me,

I can take the weight of this
hamlet on my shoulders if I have to.

But when you tell me you are scared,

my leaning post is gone
and I am fearful of falling.

Then who am I to lean on?

Ma. Ma!

That's Frank. I'll see to him.

Ssh! Ssh! Ssh! Ssh! Ssh!

I never was able to sleep
through their crying.

If you could, they would
learn to change their pitch.

Go to sleep, Em.

I am.

(CHILDREN COUGHING AND GROANING)

Dear God.

This looks like every
child in Lark Rise.

It IS every child in Lark Rise.

Every child who hasn't
had measles has it now.

Spreads faster.

Strikes harder.

This is too many.

This cannot be managed.

What will you do?

Whatever we do, you missing
your coach won't help. Go.

But what will you do?

As much as we can.

And pray it is enough.

I thought perhaps I might help.

Thank you. But the doctor has
given me very clear instructions.

I am able to manage.
Oh, I have no doubt.

But it is so terrible to be
left alone with one's fear.

Is it not?

Oh, Margaret!

I have been given so much and I
cannot bear to have it taken now.

I cannot bear to have him taken.

Poor little Sydney.

Poor child.

I recollect when you had measles.

I don't recall.

No.

I don't suppose you would.

Thank you, you are very kind.

As soon as we have any
news, we will tell you.

Thank you.

There is measles in Lark Rise.

There is measles there too.

Laura!

Daniel?

I'll explain later. But right now,

is this the most crowded place in
town? Is it where the people are?

Yes, but... I've been in Lark Rise.

How are they? They need help.

What are they...?

People of Candleford.

Friends!

Candlefordians. Countrymen.

(SHOP BELL RINGS)

The most extraordinary thing.

Mr Parish. In the street.

He says so many of the Lark
Rise children have measles,

there aren't enough women
in the fields weazing.

Or gleazing, or however it
is that they acquire flour.

He asks anyone who feels able to
nurse or... or pick wheat... to go.

To assist.

Does he?

I am told that your good neighbour
has done everything she can

to protect your children from contagion,

but in Lark Rise people live close.

For them there is no
quarantine possible.

So measles has come. And it has
come at the worst possible time.

If you help them now, they will
be able to salvage something.

If you do not,

you will have to stand by this
winter and watch them as they starve.

What do you say?

You sound just like my pa.

I was quoting your pa.

Do you think it's worked?

I think I do remember the measles.

There was a light before my face.

You did not know me.

I thought the measles
had made you blind.

I held a candle to your eyes.

What use is it if Lark Rise people die?

(WHISPERING) They cannot
afford the mourning!

Alfie?

Alfie's in the fields.

He'll be back soon.

Tell him...I bet Twister sixpence

that he'd bring the harvest
home quicker than anyone, ever.

Tell him, don't slack off.

Where did you get sixpence?

Twister's pocket.

Then that was very wrong of
you, and when you are better,

you and I will have words
about it, Archie Arless.

What in the devil's name's that?

That is Candleford.

I have no skill on the land,

but I do have...did have...

We were a large family.

I understand the care of infants.

I too have some experience in nursing.

Then you are very welcome,

both of you.

You must sleep.

I cannot.

Then at least take some refreshment.

I will call you if there is any change.

Yea, though I walk through the
Valley of the Shadow of Death,

I will fear no evil...

Mrs Turrill.

(SCREAM, LOUD THUMP)

Help!

Mrs Brown doesn't like beetles.

(SCREAMING)

# Here's good luck to the pint pot

# Good luck to the Barley Mow

# Jolly good luck to the pint pot

# Good luck to the Barley Mow... #

You must come.

Archie is worse.

Tell me true, though, Little Man,
did you set it loose on purpose?

It was in my pocket. Perhaps
it woke up when I did.

I ain't never coming to the harvest
field again. Size o' the thing!

Even after Miss Lane dropped
Miss Margaret's Bible on it.

If you don't come to the harvest
field, how can you be harvest queen?

I ain't the Queen sort.

I'm the sister sort.

I think perhaps it's my nose.

Next time you come, you
should take off your cap.

Your hair has a pretty curl to it.

Alf might like it.

I'm glad you've come back to us.

Where would I go?

Everything I want is here.

Oh...

Oh...

(RAGGED BREATHING)

(LATCH CLICKS)

(WHISPERING) Hey.

He don't know me. Better,
Alf, that he don't know.

No. No, he...

No!

You should take him home, Alf.

Be with him at home. Why?

I could... Leave him!

He's all right where he is.

He's all right.

I am sorry I didn't come before. I...

Where's Frank?

Where's Annie?

Upstairs.

They're fine, they're...sleeping.

Where's Ma?

Laura.

LAURA: Perhaps Queenie
is wrong about Archie.

I saw it in the fever
hospitals in Oxford.

It goes to their lungs.

So fast?

Sometimes only hours.

Better when it was only hours.

Why did you stay, Daniel?

Because I...liked
feeling part of something.

And not being separate.

Then don't be.

Alf.

He needs to go and he can't.

Because you're holding him here.

I ain't holding him.

I just...

Sitting with him.

But he's staying for you...

It's hurting him.

I don't mean to. I know.

I just... I know.

Look at me...

Look at me.

Now, Emma has him,

has him in her arms.

And he don't know nothing
about this room or this pain.

In his mind, he's probably
in the harvest field,

putting a worm down Twister's trousers.

Now, ain't that a good
place for him to be?

So you let him stay there.

In the sunshine.

But I want him here. Alf.

I want him back! Ssh!

He ain't part of this no more.

He's part of something else.

And you must let him go.

(RASPY BREATHING)

My brave boy.

Where do you want us to
bring the body, Alfie?

The what?

ROBERT: Archie.

Where do you want us to bring Archie?

He's dead.

Archie died.

Alf...

Do you want him with you?

I don't know.

I don't know what I got to do.

Same as before.

Nothing's stopped, Alfie.

Just...Archie's gone.

(BABY BABBLING)

Can't seem to settle with me.

It's you she wants.

# Patience is a-weeping

# A-weeping,
a-weeping

# Poor Patience is a-weeping

# On a bright summer's day

# Patience is a-weeping

# A-weeping,
a-weeping

# Poor Patience is a-weeping

# On a bright summer's day

# And what is she a-weeping for

# Weeping for, weeping

# What is she a-weeping for

# On a bright summer's day?

# She's weeping for her true love

# Her true love, her true love

# She's weeping for her true love

# On a bright summer's day

# And she must find another

# Another, another

# She must find another

# On a bright summer's day. #

(HE SOBS)

We pray,

we hope

and we yearn.

And they are born to become
fodder for the epidemics.

To love is to lay yourself open to loss.

But that is the bargain we
make with ourselves, Thomas.

Because it is worth it.

There will be some
black ribbon left over.

Perhaps we should make something.

For the Lark Rise family.

So much black.

It hurts one's eyes after a time.

At least we're not wearing it.

# Jackie boy ALL: # Master

# Sing ye well? # Very well

# Hey down # Ho down

ALL: # Derry, derry down
Among the leaves so green, oh

TWISTER: # With my hey, down,
down MEN: # With my ho, down, down

# Hey down # Ho down

ALL: # Derry, derry, down

# Among the leaves so green, oh

TWISTER: # Jackie Boy # Master

# Sing ye well? # Very well

# Hey down # Ho down

# Derry, derry down

# Among the leaves so green, oh! #

LAURA: If ever a Lark Rise woman

was caught hoarding her best
clothes rather than wearing them,

she would say that she was saving them,

"for high days an' holidays
an' bonfire nights".

But there were other occasions
that called for a special toilette.

That was the first year
Alf led the harvest,

and he was to do it
many, many times again.

Every year the harvest,

and every harvest a remembrance

and a celebration...of bread

and life

and the seeds of life to come.

I heard talk of an heinous
crime which brought Mr Reppington

to bury himself away in a hotel.

It's a cipher. Seems Mr Reppington
is clearly a man who enjoys mystery.

A mystery that must be solved.
I'm not what you expected to find.

I did have a Gothic idea of
what a recluse might look like.

This could be the making of you.
But is that who you want to be?

Is what you did so unforgivable? Yes.

When someone leaves and don't
say where they're going or why,

it hurts like no other hurt.

How do you know?