A Room with a View Page #7

Lucy, are you absolutely sure?

I only want to do what is right for you.

I'm telling you what's right.

Don't argue, do it!

All right.

Thank you, Freddy.

Why does she look like that?

- Like what?

- Like Charlotte Bartlett.

Because... she is Charlotte Bartlett.

Stop thine ear against the singer

From the red gold, keep thy finger

The tune's fine, but the words are rotten.

- Marian?

- Oh, Charlotte!

- Lucy has a plan.

- Isn't this a tragedy?

I get one thing tied up

and another thing falls over.

- The Misses Alan are going to Greece.

- Good luck to them.

Lucy would like to join them

as far as Athens.

- She'd what?!

- And on to Delphi if the roads are safe.

Vacant heart and hand and eye

Easy live and quiet die

Vacant heart and hand and eye

Easy live and quiet die

You can take all those, but leave me Thoreau

till I go. I need him by me now.

It's an ugly house. We never liked it.

I mustn't miss the train.

The removers can do the rest.

Oh, I...

No. I don't want you straining your back.

I won't be down at the weekend.

There's no point.

I'll come to take you back to town

the week after.

Paper soap is a great help towards

freshening up one's face on a train.

But you know about these matters,

and you have Mr. Vyse to help you.

A gentleman is such a standby.

It's so good of Mr. Vyse to spare you.

Perhaps he will join you later.

- Or does work keep him in London?

- We shall meet him when he sees you off.

No one will see Lucy off. She doesn't like it.

Really?

But, in this case...

- You aren't going?

- Yes, we've a train to catch.

- It's been such a pleasure to meet you.

- We will write you often

and send pretty cards from every place.

- Thank you so much for taking her.

- Bye-bye.

Well, we got through that time.

Yes, and were seen through,

which is most unpleasant.

I cannot understand

this hole and corner business.

You got rid of Cecil, well and good.

I'm thankful. Why not announce it?

- I promised. It's only for a few days.

- Victoria Station.

I couldn't help thinking

that our dear Lucy did not... No.

I wish you'd finish your sentences.

You're getting worse.

...did not look like a bride-to-be.

How should one look? According

to your great experience in these matters.

I can't say exactly.

Only... she lacked something.

And, if you want to know,

Teresa, she lacked... radiance.

- Miss Bartlett.

- Mr. Beebe.

- What is happening to your neighbors?

- They're moving.

Old Mr. Emerson's rheumatism is back,

and George thinks it's too far.

Mr. Emerson is avoiding the removers inside.

Might I impose

and wait here for Mrs. Honeychurch?

By all means. I'm afraid you must excuse me.

Mr. Emerson, Miss Bartlett, excuse me.

Oh, please.

I am sorry that the house

has brought on your rheumatism.

It's not the rheumatism, it's my boy.

George is so sorry.

I cannot blame him,

but I wish he'd told me about it first.

- He never told you what happened in Italy?

- Not a word.

No. Lucy said he wouldn't.

I was only told last Sunday.

- What were you told?

- That he loves her.

Won't you sit down?

I think I hear the carriage.

It would be discourteous

to keep my cousin waiting.

There isn't any carriage.

Sit down, my dear.

Everyone's been lying, except George.

And now here's Miss Honeychurch

marrying Mr. Vyse in January...

She has broken off her engagement.

It was all done

with great tact and discretion, naturally.

And, for the time being,

we would like to keep it quiet.

There's a time for keeping quiet

and there's a time for speaking out.

Now, you don't hear any carriage.

Why don't you sit back,

make yourself more comfortable? Take this.

There. You look much better.

So... she's not marrying Mr. Vyse?

Why? Why Greece?

Why rush off to the ends of the earth?

You're tired of your home.

You're tired of Windy Corner.

And you're tired of Freddy and me.

Of course I'm not tired of Windy Corner,

but, as we're talking about it,

I shall want to come up to London more.

I might even share a flat

for a little with some other girl.

You see, I come into my money next year.

To mess about with typewriters

and latchkeys and call it work.

- Perhaps I spoke hastily.

- Oh, goodness!

You remind me of Charlotte Bartlett!

- Charlotte?!

- Charlotte to a T.

I don't know what you mean.

We are not the least alike.

- You never used to be.

- Can't we have the hood down?

Can we have the hood down, Powell?

Powell, is that house to be let again?

Sir Harry's looking

for new tenants, I hear, Miss.

What a pity about the Emersons.

Freddy will be so sorry.

And, indeed, so am I.

- All right, Powell, stop at the stores.

- Yes, ma'am. Walk on.

Such an agreeable family.

What a pity.

No Charlotte.

Go and see if she's at Mr. Beebe's.

And do hurry, both of you.

Mary has her fish pie in.

Did you hear what I said, Lucy?

Lucy!

Mr. Emerson says it's all his fault.

I told him to trust to love.

I told him, "George, love and do

what you will." It's what I taught him.

So you see, it is all my fault.

Where are you going?

Your mother offered

to fetch me in her carriage.

I have not been brought up to keep

anyone waiting, least of all a kind hostess.

And now where's Lucy?

Get in. If Mary's fish pie spoils,

she'll mope till next Friday.

- I will sit here.

- Nonsense.

- I mustn't inconvenience you.

- You know you prefer facing.

I've no wish to even hear your son's name

mentioned. He has misbehaved from the first.

In fact, he behaved abominably.

Not abominably. He only tried

when he should not have tried.

No, of course,

abominable is too strong a word.

- It's no good discussing this.

- George is taking me to London.

He can't bear to be here,

and I must be where he is.

He says the thought of...

seeing you or hearing about you...

Mr. Emerson, please don't go on my account.

I'm going to Greece.

Don't leave your comfortable house.

You mustn't!

Why are you going to Greece?

Forgive me, but it seems to me

you're in a muddle.

I think the reason you're going to Greece

and you've broken off your engagement -

Miss Bartlett told me -

is that... you love George.

All the light's gone out of your pretty face.

Just like it's gone out of George.

I can't bear it,

and now I've made you cry. Forgive me.

But I've got to go to Greece now.

The ticket's bought and everything.

- It's impossible!

- There's only one thing impossible.

That's to love... and to part.

Lucy!

You love George.

You love the boy

body and soul, as he loves you.

But of course I do.

What did you all think?

- Then...

- No. Mother's calling. I've got to go.

They trust me.

Why should they?

When you deceived everyone...

...including yourself.

Charlotte, sit here. Go on, Powell.

- One week Italy, then Greece.

- Greece may be cancelled.

- What?!

- Do stop!

- I think Lucy has something to tell us.

- Stop the horse!

Dear Charlotte, after an awful journey

when our luggage went missing twice,

we reached Florence.

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