Oscar and Lucinda Page #2

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.

Hold them up to the light. Compare them.

The London, this one.

It's quite yellow. And this is...

It is so clear.

It is lovely.

Now the pice de rsistance.

- No, you must not!

- Why must I not?

Because you know what will happen...

When it is gone.

I'm sorry.

Nothing to be sorry for.

The glassworks that are for sale

in Darling Harbor...

- I wish to buy them.

- To buy?

Would you help me?

But I have no knowledge

of the commercial side.

My theory is adequate, of course.

I'll be there in a minute.

Very good, sir.

Don't worry about him. Stay, please.

Soon, though,

I have clergyman's business to attend to.

You cannot help me.

On the contrary, of course I shall help you

to buy your glassworks.

- I have more than 10,000.

- The deuce you do.

Will you take the plunge with me?

Monsieur Leplastrier.

15, 16, 17, 18, 19...

Stop. More for you, less for the poor.

- But this is all I need.

- You need new togs.

What is wrong with my togs?

Everything.

You rake it in, then throw it away.

Look at you. You look like a scarecrow.

Perhaps because I'm wearing your coat.

Pardon me.

You've paid your buttery bill, I inquired.

And drinking coffee.

- No, not coffee.

- No?

I have a question for you.

It is this:
Do you have an income?

No, thank you. I'd rather stand.

I will take it very ill if you trick me.

I have not tricked you.

It's 15 years since I could afford coffee.

You, a poor creature

who has nothing in the world...

Save what I can scrape together,

is so gracious as to send me...

This luxury.

I only wish you not to worry.

God will provide for me.

Did you not enjoy your coffee?

Do not be so simple.

You are poisoned by your father's ideas.

- I may be simple...

- Your father is paying you.

I swear he is not. He would not

pay a penny to send me here.

We've only met four times

since we parted.

Then where does the money come from?

I am here in Oxford to raise funds

for the restoration of my little church.

Now you must promise me...

Never to be involved in anything amiss.

I cannot have my name brought low.

My dear Mr. Stratton...

There is no need for such a promise.

I sent you the coffee

because I love you both.

I meant no offense.

Miss.

Would you leave the glass samples out,

please, Kate?

- Just like that, miss?

- I have them all in categories, you see.

The Rev. Dennis Hasset

knew his behavior was reckless.

His diary recorded the first meeting

with this unusual girl...

and after that, many red slashes

across previous appointments...

even one parish meeting.

You were right in your choice of the navy.

Excellent.

Who is that creature?

Sydney got ready to be scandalized.

It could not bear to see

the two of them together.

Let her socialize with

the notorious Charley Fig, if she wished.

Or with her accountant, Jimmy D'Abbs.

Oh, dear.

Harvey Briggs has bought himself

a steamer.

- He can take us up to Pittwater.

- Or across to Mossman's Bay.

- Who'd trust Briggsy with a steamer?

- I'd rather Pittwater.

We could take her out for the day.

Look at this. Two weeks ago,

she spilled them everywhere.

- Have you had enough of cards?

- Please, just one more hand.

You have already lost three guineas,

and it is after 2:00.

One more hand.

D'Abbs, you're meant to be looking after

the girl's money, not taking it from her.

She is free to leave, Fig.

- Pass.

- Pass.

- Five, with hearts.

- Pass.

Eight, with spades.

A duck to water. She has caught the bug.

We are corrupting you.

I am jealous of your passion, I must admit.

- You are making fun of me.

- Not at all.

I am a cold man warming myself

at someone else's fire.

You will help me to exercise it carefully,

with caution?

Heat we shall co-opt. I have a friend,

a clever chap called Wilson.

- Let me carry those.

- They're nothing. I worked on a farm.

- London is where you should go.

- London? But I've just arrived here.

To buy the very latest machinery.

That will make Sydney sit up.

- Is he...

- Yes.

I have signed!

- I own the glassworks.

- Congratulations.

I must confess to feeling scared.

I broke with my friend, Tom Wilson,

this afternoon.

Why is that?

He said things about you

that are scurrilous.

What things?

That you stay up all night gambling...

With Jimmy D'Abbs, Charley Fig,

and others of that type.

I told Wilson

such stories are pure fabrication.

That they should not be repeated.

I told him D'Abbs was your accountant...

That you did go and see him,

that indeed I went with you.

There is no more to it, is there?

I am sorry you argued with your friend.

Is there any truth in his story?

- I have been to Mr. D'Abbs' house.

- Gambling?

I was lonely.

But you have been here

three or four evenings each week.

Wilson mentioned gambling parties

on a boat at Pittwater.

And dancing.

- Not once or twice.

- There was no dancing.

- Well, I must go.

- But you came to celebrate.

- I'm too sleepy.

- We're having beef.

- I have to meet Mr. Queale.

- At this hour?

- There is another paper to sign.

- But his office will be closed.

We are to meet at Petty's Hotel.

I am sorry about your friend.

Lucinda had an immense feeling of relief.

No responsibility, no choice.

Every loss was one brick less

in the foundation of her fortune.

I inquired last week

about the Church Missionary Society.

- Sorry, sir.

- Slow down, Odd Bod.

- They will have me, if I wish.

- For what?

I enquired about New South Wales.

There is no need to frighten yourself

with such ideas.

Look at me, Fish. I have changed.

- Look at what I have become.

- Strike me. What have you become?

I have become vile.

You are not vile.

It's just that you do not fit.

- Speak quietly.

- You are perfectly unique.

- Do you fit?

- Me?

I fit. I dare say, I fit all too well.

Look at me.

I'm about to marry a bishop's daughter.

You cannot fit more than that.

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