Kind Hearts And Coronets Page #4

- Thank you.

- Sibella?

- Mm-hmm?

Sibella, will you marry me?

Louis, of course not. Do get up.

You may be half Italian,

but even so...

you do look silly

playing the stage lover like that.

- Oh, I look silly, do I?

- Yes. Very.

Do I still look silly?

Now, will you marry me?

No.

- Why not?

- Because I just said I'd marry Lionel.

- You can't.

- Why not?

Well, he's a clod.

He's not a gentleman.

Listen to who's talking.

Whoever heard of a gentleman

blacking the lodger's boots?

That's a wicked thing to say.

Just because Mama was poor.

Lionel will be very rich one day.

- I might be a duke one day.

- Pigs might fly.

No, I might. Really, I might.

You see, Mama was the daughter-

Oh, yes. I know.

Well, when you are a duke...

you just come and show me your crown,

or whatever it's called...

and then I'll feel awfully silly,

won't I?

Yes, you will.

Anyhow, I'm going to marry Lionel,

and now I'm going to bed.

You will.

If there was a precise moment...

at which my insubstantial dreaming

took on solid purpose...

that was it.

The D'Ascoynes had not only

wronged my mother...

they were the obstacle between me

and all that I wanted.

The more I thought of them,

these people whom I had studied...

until I knew their names and histories

as well as I knew my own...

the more they became monsters

of arrogance and cruelty...

whose only function in the world

was to deprive me of my birthright.

only as Mama had painted it.

To pass in through

that magnificent gateway...

on visitor's day

at a cost of sixpence...

was a humiliating experience...

but I forced myself to undergo it.

I wanted a closer view of the target

at which I had determined to aim.

I little expected to catch

a glimpse of the bull's-eye.

Excuse me, sir.

There were then some eight people

between me and the dukedom...

all seemingly equally out of reach.

It is so difficult to make a neatjob

ofkilling people...

with whom one is not

on friendly terms.

I was almost resigned

to its being an impossibility...

when one afternoon, at a moment when

my thoughts were furthest from the subject...

fate took a hand.

If you've nothing better,

those will have to do.

These London shops

are so far behind Paris.

Parcel them up quickly,

and we'll take them with us.

- Charge them to my account.

- Yes, sir. What is the name?

Mr. Ascoyne D'Ascoyne.

At last, I was face to face with one of them.

This was the son

of Lord Ascoyne D'Ascoyne, the banker...

whose refusal to help me

towards a more dignified career...

had led to my present

ignominious occupation.

What right had this arrogant puppy...

to be standing on the other side

of the counter ordering me about?

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