Transcripts - Forever Dreaming

(Clock ticks)

(Bell rings)

(Ringing gets louder)

(Phone rings)

Yes?

It's Gilbert.

'They're coming. Move.'

Goodnight, sir.

This is so exciting!

We haven't been up to London for a night out in months.

Well, it's not ALL going to be fun, remember.

We're bringing a business plan to Carter.

We've got to show him we're serious about...

Beresford's Barnets. I know.

When did you get these printed?

Last week.

How many?

A thousand...

A thousand!

I wish you'd get behind me on this, Tuppence!

We're sitting on a gold mine.

I am behind you...

Well, you sound bored to death. Are you?

No, no, of course not.

The price I paid for those wigs is unheard-of in the current climate.

You're right, you're right. It's just... we've been stung before.

Disappearing bee disease is no laughing matter!

I know, Tommy, but to be abandoned by your own swarm...

It's not just me! It's happening all over the world.

It's a bee-keeping phenomenon.

OK. OK, let's do this.

Let's knock the socks off Uncle Carter with an investment offer he can't resist.

That's the spirit!

And if it doesn't interfere with the plan, can we try and have a little fun at the opera too?

Hold on tight, please.

Uncle...

Doesn't look like your sort of place.

Oh, really? No, no.

They do a wonderful... seafood platter.

So how's George? Scout trip going all right?

Yes, he loves the Highlands.

Had a run-in with a billy goat, look here.

Tuppence, you couldn't grab a couple of brandies, could you?

And something for yourself.

Yes, of course.

Now, Uncle, I know the bees didn't quite work out but I'm sure you'll relish the prospect of...

Yes, yes, yes. Be quiet and listen.

Your country is in grave danger.

A British scientist by the name of Gilbert Worthing has gone missing from the m*llitary base in Norfolk.

He was working on a top secret project for the Home Secretary.

I want you to meet an agent called Harrison at the opera tonight.

You'll be sharing a box.

He'll have a message for me.

Just remember everything he says, word for word.

Why can't you go?

There's been a leak on the Third Floor.

Which is why I am having to meet you in this flea pit.

I can't work with anyone inside the building because wherever I go, the Russians find out about it.

I just need a nobody.

A go-between.

But this comes from the very top, it's absolutely hush-hush, you're to tell no one.

Not even Tuppence.

But she'll smell a rat.

Well, you'll just have to lie better.

Where's Carter?

Tommy?

Thank you.

Tannoy: Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats.

Tonight's performance will begin...

You're having another?

Well, you only live once. Will you join me?

No. No, I won't be able to enjoy the performance.

It'll be George's Nativity play all over again.

Everyone's so glamorous, Tommy.

Come on. Let's find our box.

I'm sorry, I've booked.

And so... tall.

I'm sorry, sir.

They must be here somewhere, what about these in this envelope?

There must be some kind of a mistake. Could you give those back, those aren't your tickets.

Box C. Your friends are at the bar, sir.

Look at us, like bloody royalty!

Tannoy: 'Ladies and gentlemen, tonight's performance will begin in three minutes.'

Looks like we're sharing a box.

I'm Tuppence Beresford.

Tommy Beresford.

Nice to meet you both. Bob Harrison. The wife's over there.

Oh, well, Tuppence can introduce herself.

What? You?

Harrison, you say?

Yes, I don't go in for this sort of nonsense, really.

The son got us the tickets. He works in the City.

I'd as soon spend a night at the dog track.

Huh, opera. It's utter nonsense, eh.

Bob's in the navy. What does your fella do?

He's in wigs.

Beautiful, isn't it?

I don't care for all this fancy business.

So, I'm up on deck and I see it in the distance.

It's a Great White. It's unmistakable. I looked closer.

It's not one, but three and they start circling us.

There's this young lad, Boris, Russian sailor...

Russian? Boris?

You know, you should be writing this down.

It'd make a great picture.

Yes, of course!

Right.

Ready.

I want credit if you make it!

Tannoy: 'Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats, the performance is about to begin.'

Come on, girl.

'Please take your seats, ladies and gentlemen.'

See you later.

'.. the performance will begin in one minute.'

I'm sorry.

God's sake!

Sir. Sir! Your umbrella.

Sorry, did Boris say, "Control the fish" or "Control the Finnish"?

Look what you made me do!

Bob! Bob! - You bloody wasted my drink!

Ooh... Ooh...

Are you all right, Mr Harrison?

What's happening?

Bob! Are you all right?

What's the matter?

Bob? Bob??

Mr Harrison! Mr Harrison!?

Bob! Give him some air. Speak to me, Bob!

Get a Doctor, Tuppence! - Yes.

(He wheezes)

(SHOUTING OVER RADIO) They're saying it was a heart att*ck.

"Fit as a fiddle."

(SHOUTING) Fit as a fiddle, they say.

'Hello. Third Floor.'

Yes, hello, I'm ringing to speak to Major Carter.

'Hello?' - I called a few times last night.

'Hello. Third Floor.'

Yes. I need to speak to Major Carter.

'I'm sorry. It's a bad line, could you call back?'

(Dial tone)

Oh, for pity's sake.

Tommy, your shirt is ruined!

'Hello. Third Floor.'

Please don't hang up!

Tommy? - I need to speak to Major Carter.

Tommy?

It's Thomas Beresford.

'Major Carter said "Cricket cancelled due to bad weather. Please sit tight".' - Cricket?

Tommy, what are you doing?

You'd better start talking, Thomas Beresford, right now!

"Boris the sailor wrestled a white shark..."

Well, Boris is obviously Russia, the sailor could be their navy or a submarine...

You're very good at this.

Too late for flattery, Beresford.

And the white shark is... America?

Could they be planning an att*ck?

Rotten luck he had a heart att*ck before finishing the message.

What if it wasn't a heart att*ck?

Harrison spilt his drink on your shirt -- this stain.

I don't follow.

It could have been poison.

No, you don't mean he was...

m*rder*d? Well, we have to find out.

Now hold on. Carter said sit tight. He would contact me.

The message was very clear.

Oh, come on, Tommy. What harm could a little investigating do?

Then when Carter gets in contact, we'll have the whole thing tied up in a bow.

Our only lead is a dirty shirt.

Not just that.

There was a man... watching the box.

Maybe he was involved.

Can you even remember what he looked like?

Tall, dark, he was very handsome.

I can picture him right now.

Try not to.

I'm sure Benjamin will be very happy here, Mr and Mrs Jones.

Bye-bye.

Bye.

Thanks.

You're not sending George here?

Why? Shouldn't we?

I need you to identify this stain.

It's the only clue we have.

I'm in the middle of an open day.

But it won't take very long. Just get your thingamybob kit.

The head is already cross with me for missing time on our last adventure.

He's right, Tuppence. This is meant to be top secret.

Ooh, top secret?

Death of a spy at the opera. A missing scientist!

A real mystery.

(She clears her throat)

Can I get you anything from the canteen, Mr Pemberton?

Yes, please, Barbara.

Miss Kemp. Ermm...

A crumpet.

Thank you. Miss Kemp.

Chemistry?

Drama department, actually.

Pass the sodium hydroxide.

Sweep her off her feet, Albert. Take her on an adventure.

Hydrochloric acid.

I wouldn't rush it. Play the long game, Albert.

Worked for me.

Not all girls will be as patient as I was, Tommy.

Cyanide.

Poison!

He WAS m*rder*d. I knew it!

Are you going to tell me what this is about?

I'm still on Carter's books, you know. I do have clearance.

We can't.

I'm-I'm sorry.

Yes...

Good old Albert, called in to test for stains and nothing more, part-time nobody.

There is one other thing you can help us with.

Have you ever heard of a scientist called Gilbert Worthing?

Gilbert Worthing?

We were at Cambridge together.

He's an atomic physicist.

Atomic? As in bombs?

He worked on the Manhattan project.

At least tell me the plan.

I'm not sure we should even be here.

We're going to talk to Mrs Harrison.

We're so sorry for your loss.

Oh...

Thank you...

Your husband had a message for us.

What?

About his work.

Who are these people?

They were at the opera.

They sat next to me and your dad.

He talked to us about a sailor called Boris?

Boris d*ed at sea. What you bringing that up for?

What are you talking about?!

I think he really was in the navy.

What were they doing in our box, then?

I don't know what they're on about, Mum.

It'll be all right, don't worry.

Wait a minute.

Um... You didn't seem too fond of the box seats.

I was wondering what made you get the tickets.

My son got them...

I didn't buy her a box. I could barely afford the nose bleeds!

I'm terribly sorry. Excuse me.

They were in the wrong seats!

There must have been two Harrisons.

The man I saw has to be the real Harrison.

They k*lled the wrong man.

Inspector Beresford, we understand somebody here has been accepting bribes to upgrade tickets to box status.

What? No, not bribes. It was a mistake.

An honest mix up with the tickets.

Well, then, would you care to verify the identity of the Mr Harrison who lost his box seat?

I don't have his details but he left behind an umbrella -- a fancy one.

We kept it for him.

Mmm. Can you remember what he looked like?

He was tall. Dark hair.

Had a face like...

Cary Grant..?

Yes!

Brown eyes.

High cheekbones...

A stern but tender stare...

Both: Yes.

Yes. Well, thank you very much. You've been most helpful.

Come along, Tuppence.

Reporter: It's a menace, this choking eye-watering smog.

Our intrepid cameraman drove through fog shrouded London to report on the traffic chaos. Traffic in London was completely at a standstill...

It's beautiful.

Yes, I certainly want to return it to the rightful owner.

Ah, serial number. Leave it with me. I'll give him a call later.

Any chance I could call him? I'd like to return it in person.

I'm not in the business of giving out customer details.

I'm sure he'd like to meet the man who found it.

I rather think that's up to him. Will you let go?!

I'm terribly sorry.

Be sure to tell him that a friend of Carter's returned it.

Remember to say the name Carter.

What the hell are you doing?

Have a little faith, Tuppence. Look.

All we have to do is wait.

Ah, Mr Harrison?

Good afternoon, sir. I believe I have your umbrella.

What about him?

No. I said tall and dark.

All right, all right.

Harrison's smart. He sent someone.

Wait... We're friends of Carter's.

Where's Carter? Who are you?

Carter's my uncle. He's... unavailable.

What's your relationship to Mr Harrison?

He's my... mentor.

In music?

We met at a literary salon.

He has a message for us. For Carter.

We were at the opera. Mr Harrison was intercepted.

If you could tell us where he is...

No.

We can help him.

Forget it. I keep him safe. No one else.

"Beresford's Barnets"?

Tell him to contact us.

Let's b*at the smog, Tuppence. Come on home!

What makes you think he'll go straight to Harrison?

Something tells me they're more than just friends.

Oh! Do you think Carter knows?

I suspect Harrison is pretty good at leading a double life.

I bet he must have broken a few girls' hearts.

Not yours, I hope!

Mum? Where are you?

There you are!

Stay close.

Keep hold of my hand. This way.

Ooh!

Excuse me!

Excuse me.

Tuppence?

Tommy?

Tuppence?

Tommy?

Tuppence?

Tommy?

Tommy?

Tuppence? Tuppence!

Where are you trying to get to, madam?

I've lost my husband. I don't know, I should... probably try and get back to Waterloo.

This way to Waterloo, Madam.

Are you sure? I could have sworn that way was Seven Dials.

This way, Madam. I'm certain.

That's right. Keep going.

Just at the end of the tunnel, madam.

That's it. Turn right for Waterloo.

Is this your usual b*at?

That's definitely Seven Dials or can't you see?

(g*nshots)

Tuppence?

Tuppence!

You're shaking.

I looked everywhere for you.

What happened?

(She sobs)

What time is it?

Ten.

Ten!

You needed the rest. And now you need the sustenance.

Oh, Tommy, how lovely... Marmalade!

Mm!

Are you eating?

I've been up since six.

Not Mrs Morgan's cockerel? That bloody bird!

I just couldn't sleep.

Well, that'll be the late night biccies.

Anything from Harrison?

Well, let's try Albert -- see if he's heard anything.

No. I'm afraid this is where it ends.

We had another postcard from George this morning.

What's wrong? Is he all right?

He's fine. I just imagined having to write back to him... to tell him his mother... had been sh*t.

It's just too dangerous, Tuppence.

But... If we work together...

For either of us.

That is the end of the matter.

(Radio plays)

Have you finished the stock list?

Yes. I think we need to order more brunettes.

Doris Day, Grace Kelly, Diana Dors...

Blondes. We need to order more blondes.

Bills... bills... bills...

Oh, a letter for Beresford's Barnets.

It has to be from him.

It has to be Harrison.

Well, we'll miss our chance.

Come on!

Keys.

There is no 201.

There has to be.

Tommy... That's him.

Are you sure?

There.

(Car engine revs)

(He yells)

No!

Oh, my God. Is he dead?

Tell... Tell Carter... there's a spy in the house...

They've taken Gilbert.

It's... N.

Did he say... N?

I heard M.

Did you say N? Or M?

(He grunts)

He's gone.

What if we led them to him?

What if we had Harrison k*lled?

No, no, no, no, no.
(Doorbell rings, dog starts barking)

(Doorbell rings more insistently)

(Knocking at door)

(Doorbell rings)

It's Carter.

What's he going to do to us?

Not us. Me.

What?

I took the mission. I'll take the consequences. You wait upstairs.

(Knocking and ringing)

Tommy Beresford? Tommy?

Where have you been, Uncle?

Don't "uncle" me. I've been looking for this leak.

Look where it's got me!

What did he say?

Who?

Don't be soft, Tommy. Harrison!

Gilbert's been kidnapped. And he said there's a spy in the house.

Did he mention a name?

I think he said... M.

M.

No, I don't know an M...

Not that I recall. I mean, they do change the code names, but...

Are you sure he said M?

It could have been N.

N?

Does N mean something?

Close that door.

Promise me you'll keep Tuppence out of this.

I know she's been involved so far.

For your ears only.

Yes, Uncle.

(Muffled voices)

So who was N?

A Soviet agent who has eluded us for years.

There were a number of British traitors whose sympathies were with the USSR. They turned to communism.

Are you familiar with the Fifth Column, Tommy?

I've heard the phrase.

The enemy within. N has contacts in the British government.

Definitely in the m*llitary and very possibly in my own department.

One of them tipped N off about Gilbert's project.

That means the Russians have Gilbert?

What is the project?

It's a b*mb. A new b*mb. A prototype.

(Knocking at window)

Morning, Mr B.

All your windows, same as usual.

Oh, for goodness sake, Tommy.

(Dog barks)

What are they going to do with the b*mb?

I suspect they're after the technology.

Which means their priority will be getting it out of the country.

... hired Gilbert in secret. It's all very hush-hush.

We're missing the cricket.

The Home Secretary asked me to send someone I can trust.

We knew there was a leak, so the smaller the operation, the better.

You sent Harrison.

That's right.

To the guesthouse in Norfolk where Gilbert had been staying.

See what he could find out.

"The spy in the house is... N."

But if they have Gilbert and the b*mb, why are they still there?

Someone, something of value remains in that hotel.

The Sans Souci Hotel, Cromer.

The delicate nature of the job has meant getting background information on the other guests, rather slow.

You'll have to meet up with Albert tomorrow. He'll brief you on the train.

But what do you want me to do?

I want you to find N, of course.

You find N, find Gilbert, you find the b*mb.

Not a word to Tuppence, remember.

Yes, Uncle.

What did he say?

He said, "Thank you".

"Thank you"?

For all our help in finding Harrison.

I told him what we knew, he said thank you, and... that was that.

Wasn't he angry that Harrison got k*lled?

It's all part of the game, I suppose.

So that was it?

It's not all bad news.

Do you remember that wig convention in Scotland I was telling you about?

Well, a place has come up. Train leaves tomorrow at nine, actually.

Did you marry an idiot?

Sorry? - "Do you, Thomas Beresford, take this gullible idiot?" Is that what the vicar said?

I don't know what you mean.

Carter's given you a new mission.

Absolutely not.

Swear it.

I... swear...

Thomas Beresford.

Be reasonable, Tuppence...

It's only for a week.

Or so.

You'll need to keep warm up there. Scotland can be very chilly.

I really wish you could come with me, Tuppence...

I worry a wig convention is no place for a lady.

Absolutely. I completely understand. I'd be bored stiff.

You really would be.

I know. I can't imagine anything worse!

In fact, I've been thinking of getting away myself.

Oh...? Have you?

Just to see Aunt Julie.

She's been hinting for help with her Christmas chutneys since July.

You can't stand chutney.

But I love Aunt Julie.

No, you don't.

Anyway, excuse me...

If I set off now, I can get there before dark.

Oh...

You can bring me some shortbread.

What? Why?

Scotland, Tommy. Famous for it.

I'll, er... I won't forget the shortbread.

Don't miss your train, Tommy.

(Train whistles)

(Conductor whistles)

Once more for good measure.

Sheila Perenna, proprietress of the Sans Souci. Irish.

What part?

Connemara.

Next.

Carl Denim. Son of a publican.

Who lived here for a few years, at the San Souci, just a couple of months.

Next.

Major Khan. Fought in the liberation of Italy.

Medals?

Victoria Cross?

No! m*llitary Cross.

Come on, Tommy!

You can't afford to make a false move. You saw what happened to Harrison!

N could be a w*r hero, an office clerk or a nun.

Trust no one.

'But get everyone to trust you.'

Sans Souci, please Driver.

'Next.'

Mrs Sprot. Married but travelling alone. Likes walks on the beach.

Wears 'Miss Dior' by Christian Dior.

You remembered her pretty easily.

Well, you don't forget a name like Sprot.

Quite. Next.

Mr and Mrs Minton. Psychologists. Sounds like mumbo-jumbo to me... but I have read "The Ego And The Id".

Finally?

Veronica Urbanowicz, Polish maid.

Which leads us right on to your cover.

George Meadows.

Bachelor. Bookworm. Bird watcher.

What's your avian speciality?

Warblers.

Excellent.

George Meadows. Birdwatcher. Here to spot some birds.

'Just remember, Tommy, any of these could be N. Carl Denim, Major Khan, Sheila Perenna, the Mintons, Mrs Sprot, Urbanowicz, any of them. Be charming, but anonymous. Friendly but forgettable. Good luck out there, Tommy.'

We're full.

George Meadows. I booked.

Right. Well, act like it, then, and go in.

Did your mother never teach you to wipe your feet?

Breakfast is seven to eight and not a minute after.

Dinner's at six, lunch -- you fend for yourself.

I take it you're here for the Veterans' Ball?

Ah, yes... Yes, of course.

Taxis are booked. Don't be late.

Is that a West Coast accent I detect? Connemara, perhaps?

Oh, God, don't talk to me about that place.

Nothing but sheep and rocks.

Your room is just at the top of the stairs.

You must attract a better class of guests at a house like this.

You're not writing a review, are you?

No, no. I just...

Good.

Oh. Oh, I'm terribly sorry.

Wrong room.

Can I help you?

I'm George Meadows.

Pleased to meet you. I'm Mr Minton. This is my wife.

"Even a happy life cannot be without a measure of darkness".

For anyone who seeks meaning in today's world, Jung is a must.

I'm more of a Freud man myself. Have you read any?

One chooses their teacher and remains faithful.

Are you in the business?

We're psychologists. Yes.

I can tell by your stance you're a m*llitary man.

Well, I... I did my bit in the last show.

You saw a lot in that time.

I can tell by your grip.

If you'd excuse me, I should find my room.

Of course, Mrs Blenkensop, It won't happen again.

Thank you for pointing it out, Mrs Blenkensop.

(He clears throat)

Mr Meadows, I presume? - Tuppence!

It is Meadows, isn't it?

Oh, yes, that's right. And, erm, you must be...?

Mrs Blenkensop. - Oh.

Would you care for some tea?

Thank you.

How did you know where to come?

Walls have ears, Tommy, don't you remember?

So poor Aunt Julie is making chutney on her own again this year.

Let me guess, the wig convention finished early?

(Door creaks open)

Oh. Is there a Mr Blenkensop?

Horrible slow death by disease. Mrs Meadows?

Bachelor.

CLOCK CHIMES How original.

Any thoughts on N yet?

They're all coming down for tea in a minute.

Do your own detective work.

Mrs Blenkensop...

Oh, don't tell me you've replaced me already?

Mr Denim, you do tease!

I'm old enough to be your big sister.

(She laughs)

This is Mr Meadows.

You'll get along famously, he's a bachelor too.

Hunter?

Bird-watcher.

I thought I heard an unfamiliar male voice. Hello.

Hello.

(They chuckle)

I do hope we won't be unfamiliar for long.

Oh, Haydock, Major Khan, hope you're feeling flush.

I'd say we have a good number here for a game of five-card stud.

Gambling's a vice.

One of my top three.

Oh. Ha-ha-ha.

TUPPENCE CLEARS THROAT Five-card stud, perfect. I could do with a change of luck.

How about you, Khan? Haydock.

Commander Haydock.

Ah, George Meadows Pleasure.

Do you fancy a game?

Oh, no, no, no. I'm not a card man myself.

Oh, come on, Mr Meadows.

Sit next to me, Mr Meadows. I won't bite.

(Cards are shuffled)

Any time today is good, Haydock.

(Chips click)

So, Commander, are you a guest here at the Sans Souci?

No. I live up at Prussia Cove.

Is that a nice spot?

Fold.

He's just here for the company. - Oh.

Mrs Sprot?

Your bid, Mrs Sprot.

So, Major, where did you serve?

I know you're new to this, Meadows, but we don't normally chinwag during poker.

Oh. I'm sorry, I understand.

Mrs Sprot?

Fold.

Mr Denim?

I just got lucky.

Wait...

Well, what about Meadows?

I can never remember -- are aces highest or lowest?

Aces are highest. Only an idiot wouldn't know that.

(She chuckles softly)

Or a liar.

I'm not a liar, just... lucky.

Very lucky.

What exactly is your business here, Mr Meadows?

I'm a bird-watcher.

Haydock: Really?

What's your specialty?

Pallas's warblers.

Pallas's warblers?

In England?

At this time of year?

This is their autumn migration path.

That picture there is actually a very fine example of a pair of Pallas's warblers Arctic warblers, actually. Family heirloom.

Worth quite a lot that.

A child could spot the difference.

I'm not sure it...

Impressionistic, though, isn't it?

I don't know about that, Mrs Blenkensop.

I think we've just been hustled.

What, by this gentleman?

Yes. While you were busy making notes for your novel.

Novelist?

Crime fiction.

Ah. But of course.

An urgent letter just arrived for you, Major Khan.

Ah, thank you.

Excuse me.

Aren't you going to finish your tea?

Yes, thank you.

I used to do a spot of bird-watching myself.

Let's go tomorrow. Hm?

Yes, great.

A USSR postmark...

Do you think HE'S N?

He's clearly in the lead.

Hold on. Let's think about this. We need to keep an open mind.

Well, who are you suggesting?

Carl Denim, for one.

I like him.

I could tell.

And Mrs Sprot?

What about her?

SHE SCOFFS Tuppence, this is serious. N's got a hold of an atomic b*mb, for goodness' sake I am well aware of that, Tommy.

The Major is clearly the most suspicious.

All right. Well, how do we play this?

I need to go into his room.

I've got to see inside that envelope.

What if he finds you in there?

I'll use the oldest trick in the book.

Seduction?!

(He sniffs)

(He applies aftershave)

I didn't have you down as a snooper. - No, no. I was...

I was just looking for Miss Perenna.

Well, she's downstairs.

Ah, good.

I think.

Maybe she popped out to get her hair done for tonight?

Oh, that's a good idea. - Yes.

It's the Veteran's Ball, isn't it?

Are you going?

Oh, I wouldn't miss it for the world.

But I'll have no-one to dance with. - HE CHUCKLES Do I make you nervous, Mr Meadows?

No, no, no, no. I just...

(She giggles)

I'll just get some tea for us. I could do with some refreshment.

Beresford's Barnet. Who's Beresford's Barnet?

"Suppliers of the finest quality postiche"?

Why didn't they just say "wigs"?

Oh, it's more discreet. Classier.

To attract a better sort of customer.

Why do you have it?

I use their services.

Well, they must be doing something right.

I wouldn't have noticed a thing.

They are the best in the business.

Would you mind if I keep it?

I might feel like changing my look.

What brings you to the East Coast, Mrs Sprot?

Relocation. Had a change in circumstance.

I'm looking for a new beginning.

Well, it's a beautiful spot.

A beautiful spot for the beautiful Mrs Sprot.

Yes, I'm finding it quite charming... so far.

Oh, is that the time? I should be getting ready for the ball.

Yes. You and me both.

(She exhales quietly)

(Door creaks)

I think you had better come out of there...

Who are you?

Mrs Blenkensop.

Try again.

I am Mrs Blenkensop...

So, why are you in my room, Mrs Blenkensop?

I wanted to talk to you in private.

About what?

Mr Meadows.

I believe he's a card cheat.

How sweet of you to look out for me.

The question is...

(She gasps)

.. are you willing to die for that lie?

Because if you don't tell me the truth...

(She gasps)

.. I'm going to be forced to blow out your pretty little brains.

So N might actually just detonate this b*mb?

(g*nsh*t)

I just thought they were odd, not spies.

We haven't been watching them. Who knows what we've missed. - HE GRUNTS Let me do your glasses... - There's really no need. - It's no problem. - Sir...

Honestly, Tuppence.

You'll chase Communists, K*llers and spies, but you're still afraid of the dark.

Do you know this man? - Yes.

No! - I have a role to play.

Don't get too used to the bachelor life.

Good grief.

Still think it's nothing?

I can't hold him much longer.

Human nature is so difficult to predict.

It certainly is.

May the best man win.