Oscar and Lucinda Page #2

You are not a plunger.

- What is a...

- A "plunger"? West is a plunger.

He starts off with a couple of sovs,

comes up trumps...

Dabs it all down in a second

and loses the lot.

Look at her. Revenger's Lass.

Three-to-one in the first. It's the day

for a powerful varmint like that.

Look at that backside. Just look.

Now, number 10 is...

The Sailor.

- You have caught the germ.

- No, thank you.

- I am corrupting you.

- No, Fish. Don't you see?

- You should not be here.

- You are an agent of the Lord.

Odd Bod, ease up.

I have been praying to God for funds...

And now I shall be able to pay my bills.

Quick, or we'll miss the first.

I am already damned, of course.

That's the Sailor.

Fish, has that got a powerful bum?

Odd Bod, come on.

My great-grandfather won his first bet.

In the case histories

of pathological gamblers...

you find the same story told

time and time again.

Stop! Those trees are mine!

She would have talked of it to me.

- She intended to return home.

- But this is our home.

No, that is not my mother's signature.

Indeed it is. She signed it in my office.

She had it all calculated.

- Five farms at 4,000 acres apiece.

- You say all this is mine?

- Held in trust by me.

- Until you are of age.

My mother would not have done that.

Dear girl, with a fortune such as this,

you'll be married in a jiffy.

Why was I not told this?

I would have told you today,

after your mother's funeral.

- Lf you had not run away.

- No, I'm staying here.

You cannot. Your new home is with

Mrs. Ahearn and myself in Parramatta.

You'll go to

Mrs. Cousin's School for Young Ladies.

No!

- Come, girlie.

- Do not touch me.

You will be rich one day.

That is not the point.

Not the point.

Lucinda had never been on a boat.

She had never been to Sydney.

She carried with her a bank draft

for her entire fortune...

as well as an itchy impatience

to grasp what her mother had called...

"the working world. "

When Lucinda exploded her present

of the Prince Rupert's drop...

it was not something she easily forgot.

She knew that glass is a thing in disguise.

It is not solid at all, but a liquid.

And even while it is as frail

as the ice on a Parramatta puddle...

it is stronger than Sydney sandstone.

It was as good a material as any

to build a life on.

Thank you.

One is more than enough, miss.

Good luck, miss.

This Frenchman, Leplastrier...

if he expects to find an expert on glass,

I'm afraid he'll find only an enthusiast.

However, he has found out

my little hobby...

And I shall try to advise.

- Your visitor, sir.

- Jolly good. Show him in.

Monsieur Leplastrier?

This is from Botany.

And the other's from Hallet's, in London.

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