The Painted Veil Page #6

side by side on the sofa, but rarely speak.

He knows I will never leave him.

This is my duty.

But when love and duty are one,

then grace is within you.

Your soldier is waiting to take you back.

- I'd rather stay.

- No.

What? What is it?

What?

Mrs. Fane?

Mr. Waddington?

It's your husband.

What? What is it?

He's been taken ill.

Where is he?

Mrs. Fane.

- Walter.

- Oh, no. She can't be here. It's not safe.

- Waddington.

- I'm afraid I've got no say in the matter.

I don't want an audience.

You have to go.

- Your baby.

- Please, you must go.

Walter, tell me what I should do.

Slow that drip down.

It's running too fast.

Good, good.

Kitty? Kitty.

It's going to get much worse

before it breaks.

Are you prepared for this?

Yes.

What is it?

Can you send for more?

Kitty.

Kitty.

Are you awake?

Are you feeling better?

Forgive me.

Forgive you?

There's nothing to forgive.

Walter...

...I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.

Mrs. Fane?

Dr. Fane would want

to be buried immediately.

Yes, of course.

What are you doing?

It's silly, really.

They'll die in a week.

It's hardly worth the cost.

- What do you think?

- I think they're quite nice.

Really?

I think you're right.

Come on.

We better hurry. Grandfather's waiting.

Kitty Fane?

As I live and breathe.

Hello, Charlie.

What are you doing in London?

I know it's been a long time.

I should have written.

Who's this fine chap? Hello, young man.

- What's your name?

- Walter.

Hello, Walter. I'm Charlie Townsend.

- How old are you?

- Five.

- Five?

- Come on, darling.

We should really press on.

Yes, of course. Well, it's...

...Iovely seeing you again.

And you.

- Goodbye, Walter.

- Goodbye.

Kitty.

I'm in London for three weeks.

Perhaps we could--

Goodbye, Mr. Townsend.

Goodbye, Mrs. Fane.

Who was that, Mommy?

No one important, darling.

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