House of Whipcord Page #6

- Do you hear me, Desmond?

- Yes, my dear.

What was the name of the girl

I sentenced today?

Oh, you've been told three times already.

She reminded me of the Hansen girl,

Claudine Hansen.

She was French too.

That was a long time ago.

A long time? Oh, no. Five years.

It's nearly 30, Desmond.

I remember it distinctly.

It was 1946. You were a High Court judge

and I was in charge of Coswell Grange.

Oh, yes, yes, of course.

Oh dear, is it that long ago?

It seems so clear.

I can remember your very words

on the telephone.

'Desmond, you've got to help me.

It's all gone wrong.

"They're blaming me for the girl's suicide "

That's what you said.

Yes, you can remember that, can't you?

You can remember things from

You can't remember that you failed

to get me reinstated.

I was doing my duty.

The stupid girl was unstable.

But you can't remember that,

or the days of the week,

or the names of prisoners

you met five minutes ago.

What did you do that for, Margaret?

I'll never remember where they were.

There are pieces all on the oor.

Desmond, I'm convinced

that no useful purpose is being served

by your remaining in office at this prison.

Don't speak to me like that, Margaret.

While you remain here, so will I.

It is no more your prison than it is mine.

We started it together because we believed

in the same things. And we still do.

Justice for those on whom

justice has not been served.

But justice must be seen to be done.

You pitiless woman.

Do you think I am blind from choice?

Do you think that for one minute in 25 years

I have become reconciled

to this miserable darkness?

You have no feelings,

no idea of how I suffer.

No more than I do, I'm sure.

At least I'm spared the anguish

of gazing at your poor tormented fa.

If thine eyes offend thee, pluck them out.

- Margaret?

- Pluck them out, I say.

Sorry, madam, I thought

you were about to fall.

I thought I'd steady you. I'm sorry.

It's all right, Walker. It's quite in order.I

Well, don't stand there, woman.

You may retire if you wish.

Leave the knife, will you?

Thank you.

(Wind howling)

(Woman sobbing)

(Footsteps)

(Keys jangling)

(Sobbing continues)

(Tony) My God, ifs like a prison at home.

I must go, I'm expected.

I don't want to sound my,

but you can't go on like this.

I know, I know.

- Don't look at me for advice

- You're a good adviser.

- That's what Ann-Marie always says.

- Yeah, wall, great minds.

Would I be fight in saying

that you fancy her a tiny little bit?

I've only bumped into her a few times.

Times enough.

What about you and that gigolo that picked

her up at that party on Tuesday?

You must be joking. I only saw him on.

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