This is Masterpiece.

CYNTHIA: You were seen.

Previously on "Indian Summers."

You'll leave tonight.

I can't get up and leave.

CYNTHIA: I don't see why not.

She wants to play, don't you, Muddle?

Alice.

RALPH: Every time I see him, I want to rip out his throat.

But I have him here because I get you.

NARESH: We're going to blow them all up until it is raining hands and bloody feet.

KAIRA: You give this file to Naresh and I'm as good as dead.

I know.

But you have me.

Aafrin!

(gunshot) (shouting) (shouting) ♪ ♪ "Indian Summers," ♪ ♪ (horse snorting) ♪ ♪ (typewriter keys clanging) AAFRIN: This is a warning.

There is a bomb buried in a cave on the road to Combermere.

Terrorists are planning an attack in the heart of Simla this summer.

Now hurry.

(clucking) I tried telling Ralph.

I did just as you said.

I told him we want to go back early.

And?

You know what he's like.

Well, might I suggest you try again?

You've been warned!

I'm having a very bad day.

Is he comfortable?

Well, he's taken rooms at the Club.

Matter of fact, he's taken all the rooms.

Though, apparently, none of them are good enough.

(laughs) I can't stay here.

Oh, come on, you can slum it for a day or two.

Did Charlemagne sleep on rocks?

(laughing) (faint giggling) What are you doing?

(giggling) I thought I might have you... To myself!

(laughs) WILLINGDON: Never mind our guests from Congress.

You take the greatest possible care of the native prince, you understand?

The Maharajah-- make him feel at home.

Precisely.

How long is he with us?

Two nights.

Two nights.

Well, softly-softly, win him round.

He has influence.

He's our greatest chance to persuade the other princes to support the bill.

God knows we're going to need all the help we can get.

Princes have always stood by us in the past.

So they have, but this new legislation's bound to affect them more than anyone.

It is a compromise, naturally.

Whelan, the man's not a complete imbecile!

For years, we've let the native princes run their own states without interference, and suddenly, we're inviting them to give it all up!

The guards are preparing a five-gun salute.

Five?

Not enough?

WILLINGDON: Oh, seven, nine?

The more, the merrier!

Freeman!

Ready for the off?

This way, sir.

What's this?

Just give it to a clerk.

I don't suppose they'll even recognize me.

You, my love, are very difficult to forget.

Yes, but the truth is I used to be far more respectable.

I'm so pleased I didn't know you then!

(laughing) (plates clanging) Sooni, first digest your food.

You can read afterwards.

No!

Now what?

Aafrin, go on, be a good...

It's your turn, Daddy.

Aafrin went last time.

(sighs) I'll go.

Don't worry.

Thanks.

And while you're at it, remind her to take your shoes to the cobbler's!

AAFRIN: What new drama?

Hm?

Kaira Das, shot.

"By dacoits."

SOONI: Thieves.

Just happened to be passing.

Such lies!

You know, there are times when I feel like the whole world is asleep.

What will we do, Aafrin?

I met her, you know?

In Bengal.

No doubt to throw her in jail.

20 lashes for daring to breathe!

Aafrin?

MAN: Ready?

Fire!

(artillery fires) Ready?

Fire!

(artillery fires) Ready?

Fire!

(artillery fires) Ready?

Fire!

(gunshot) NARESH: You have no reason to be afraid.

(gunshot) WILLINGDON: Before I present His Highness, may I just remind all present there's to be no shop talk?

(laughter) You promised this bill would give us self-rule, real reform, our own parliament run by Indians for Indians.

Only now we find it is the same old story, sir: three paces forward, two paces back.

John Bull cannot give us up.

The British will keep charge of our Indian army, of our finances, for heaven's sake!

Better to entrust the British than a lot of Congress windbags, like our friend Patel here, squabbling like hens!

Shall we have some music?

Every man or woman has a right to a voice, sir.

To what use?

To better his lot.

To better his lot?

Who wants tea?

I will not be spoken down to by a puppet prince who governs by the most backward and benighted traditions...

Thank you, Mr. Patel.

...who denies his people the most basic freedom, sir, while British government looks away and covers its eyes!

Mr. Patel, my people are happy.

Happy?

They are blessed.

Blessed?

Blessed.

Blessed!

He managed to sabotage the entire weekend!

But where has His Highness got to now?

He's resting.

Oh, is that what he calls it?

We're supposed to be convening round a conference table.

HAWTHORNE: Well, that was a lively exchange of fire!

Oh, forgive me.

Shall I...?

No, no, no, no, stay put.

So, what now?

How are we going to make this thing stick?

Sir, did you not once mention that the Maharajah enjoys his cricket?

What?

Possibly in Bombay half a lifetime ago!

Well, either we abandon ship, or might we at least remind them of the virtues of cooperation, teamwork?

With a game of cricket?

Mm.

Are you sure?

HAWTHORNE: Well, just as long as there's a good tea.

Your article on Kaira Das: "ruthless, cunning, outspoken."

Look at this!

"Thrice jailed for her 'negitive' tactics."

"Negitive," Mr. Khan?

This is not how you spell negative!

Well, if you're seeking employment as my sub-editor... Sub-editor?

For your information, Mr. Khan, I completed my bachelor degree in law one year early.

I beat all but two-- two men-- in my final exam, and then only because I ran out of time on my paper on tort.

Ah, the terror of tort!

So why are you not in court now, today?

I will be, soon.

Soon?

This is why they call you Sooni?

What a very simple-minded pun.

Anyway, fool, don't mock me.

Mock all those law chambers who are obviously so frightened by their mothers and wives and sisters, they cannot deign to answer my letters.

I can't imagine why.

You know, any journalist worth his salt would not be lolling about in the bazaar, drinking chai.

Oh, really?

Yes, really!

A pukka journalist would be asking, how did she die?

You honestly believe she was murdered by thieves on the road to Meerut?

You think assassinated by the British?

Naturally.

Is it not plain as day?

Why?

I mean, Kaira Das was a nuisance... She was not a nuisance!

...but she was not a player on the national stage.

Why, of all people, kill her?

Because she was a woman.

Come!

Chalo!

There is not a minute to be wasted.

I have to go to the cobbler's for my brother.

What if I were to tell you that Kaira Das was seen not one week ago, less than an hour from this spot?

Bhupinder?

Bhupinder?

This way, sahib.

It's all right.

I know the way.

A little tired, sahib.

Come.

Back to work.

And keep that dead straight.

Dead straight!

Whelan!

Ah, Aafrin!

Be with you shortly.

Ralph!

Darling?

A word.

CHARLIE: Hold onto your whip!

Gonna put some mustard on this one.

Whoop-ah!

I understand that you're fond of the boy, but there is a price.

Yes, I know!

That I am required to pay!

But you don't think you should make any compromises.

(faint argument) CHARLIE: All right, kid, you're up.

(bat smacks ball) We were seen together.

Seen?

Doing what?

At the club, by Cynthia's man.

Does your brother know?

Not yet.

Only Cynthia.

Then I suppose we are ruined.

You seem very calm about it.

Aafrin, can I have a word?

Excuse us, Al.

(Charlie shouting) (bat smacks ball) Look, we're pulling together a cricket match from scratch this afternoon.

It's all hands on deck, and we're in need of an umpire.

Ronnie suggested, who better than a neutral Parsi?

So I wondered, would you mind doing us the most almighty favor?

I have no aptitude for the game.

Perfect!

That's settled.

Very well.

If there's nothing else?

As a matter of fact, there is.

May I show you something in confidence?

AAFRIN: Who wrote this?

Ah!

There's the mystery.

May I?

"The cave on the road to Combermere."

Yes, do you know it?

No.

It says there's a bomb buried there.

What do you make of that?

You're certain it's not some time-waster?

Perhaps.

Someone known to me died-- was killed-- not a million miles from here.

Terrible business.

A friend?

More of an acquaintance.

Body just dumped by the roadside.

Matter of fact, I'm certain I know who did it.

Naresh Banerjee-- do you remember?

The terrorist?

Yes, I remember.

Did you catch the fellow?

No, not yet.

But with Banerjee still in the region, an outrage in the summer capital would be unthinkable.

But men like Banerjee, you see, they take glory in the suffering of others.

Though I suppose they would say, "If our cause is just, and if the other side "has all the might and power in the world "and will not turn the other cheek, like Mr. Gandhi..." Go on.

Well, men like that?

They would say, "What choice do we have?

What else can we do?"

And what would you say?

I could not take a life.

And I could not forgive any man who did.

I'll get on to Rowntree right away, see if we can locate the bomb.

DOUGIE: This is a very important job.

The ladies come in, you give the money to Ruth, and you keep writing all that down.

You're in charge of the money, Ruth.

SHAMSHAD: Cheap quality.

See?

(laughs) You sound just like your mother.

Those are our flowers!

Shamshad, keep your voice down!

So when are you off, Mr. Raworth?

Another two weeks.

And the children, what will become of them?

They're all going to good homes.

Ruth is off to a tannery in the plains, aren't you, love?

Yes, baapi.

That'll just leave Chota Matthew.

I don't know what we'll do about Chota Matthew.

You'll find something, Mr. Raworth.

Don't worry.

DOUGIE: My wife always says my trouble is I was raising them not for this life, but for the next.

You know, I think we'll take all these.

Yes, we can put them in the sitting room.

Can't we, Daddy?

Good thinking.

Are you sure?

One hundred percent.

(speaking Hindi) (speaking Hindi) IAN: Well, that's all of us, but you might as well talk to... Sooni?

You know this man?

Certainly I know this man.

Good afternoon, Mr. Ian!

To what do I owe the pleasure?

Afternoon.

Afternoon.

My name is Khan.

Ian.

What are you here for?

We're looking for this woman called Kaira Das.

She was seen here just last week.

Kaira?

Kaira Das?

No, name's not familiar.

But she was seen here, in your field.

Who did you hear that off?

I cannot tell.

Here, I have...

This woman.

Ah.

Not here.

I only say this because it's you.

I had a fellow here, polite enough.

He needed a roof over his head.

Name of Naresh.

Naresh Banerjee?

Aye.

The police took an interest in the man, but I have no love for them and I'm not going to give up a guest, eh?

What about the woman?

Miss Kaira Das?

I saw her with him once or twice.

Friends, I suppose.

And where is Naresh Banerjee now?

Oh, he left, Monday last.

Going where?

He didn't say.

Just took off.

With one of my horses, as a matter of fact.

What was she doing?

What did she want up here in the hills?

I didn't ask, they didn't tell me.

They were idealists.

Good people.

Shot through the head, Christ!

Another woman dead and nobody cares to ask why.

Huh?

There was a woman named Jaya.

She was murdered three years back, just down by the river.

A man was hanged for the crime, sir, though he played no part in her death.

He was my friend.

The name of your friend?

Ramu Sood.

Ramu Sood!

(chanting): Ramu Sood, Ramu Sood!

(laughs) One day, I intend to wipe the stain off that man's name, I promise you that.

Tea?

Have you kept up with your Marx, Miss Dalal?

Not as such.

Well, it's all written down there.

My gospel, you might say.

You are Communist now?

After a fashion.

"Stop British imperialist thieves from..." BOTH: "...stealing Indian profits."

"Hope for all," see?

That's what we want, is it not?

SOONI: You don't miss your own people?

These are my people.

Gayathri, namaste.

Mr. Ian, what are they doing in your house?

Our house.

They're in here, I'm in the middle, and Sushilkumar is at the end.

It's too much room for one man.

How's your tea?

It's from our own crop.

Yes, very fragrant.

Rather bitter for my taste.

Still, I always hoped I'd run into you again.

Really?

"If you should stoop with worn out tools..." Do you remember?

Three years, is it?

How could I forget?

"You'll be a man, my son!"

That's what you said.

"Be a man."

That was a big day for me.

I was ready to go home, give up.

Nothing to live for, so I thought.

But you made me stay.

Which is ironic because sadly, we have to be going.

Really?

You don't want to meet Lakshmi?

Who is Lakshmi?

Lakshmi used to care for Naresh while he was staying with us.

I have to go for this cricket match.

I fear I'm very late.

Chalo!

All right.

You go.

I will meet Lakshmi.

What?

Unmarried woman out here in this lonely place.

You cannot come and go as you please.

I will do as I see fit.

And who are you to stop me?

It's quite all right, Mr. Khan.

You enjoy your cricket.

I will see she gets home safely.

Thank you, Mr. Ian.

Where are you going?

Cricket.

I told you I'd been roped in.

See?

Whites.

Is that what they are?

And you're going to come and cheer me on.

Not today.

I only said I'd do this because I thought you'd find it... What?

Jolly.

Jolly?

Come on, they'll all be there.

Precisely.

I can't honestly think of anything worse.

You'll come and watch, and when we go home, we'll tell Matthew all about it.

He'll love that.

Proper match report.

Yes.

But no, I have to wait in for Dr. Harrison.

Baapi!

You two ready?

Don't want to be late.

Come on!

Well, at least he turned up.

And here comes our Congress leader, Mr. Patel.

Afternoon!

Why on earth did I ever let that man out of prison?

Hail, Caesar!

Yes, yes, yes.

Good old Hawthorne.

RALPH: I'll watch him, sir.

He'll be watching us.

You know he sent 14 telegrams back to London since last Wednesday?

One question, sir.

Yes?

The Maharajah and Mr. Patel, together or apart?

Oh no, batting together, naturally.

Very good.

Let's get our two feuding guests on the same side.

Your Royal Highness!

(footsteps approaching) (sighs) Douglas?

(yawning) Is that you?

Douglas?

Good afternoon.

You're not Dr. Harrison.

Where is Dr. Harrison?

Dr. Harrison sends his regrets, memsahib.

He is caught up with other matters.

I see.

But I can't have anyone attending me except Dr. Harrison.

I thought I made that clear.

It's quite understandable.

Yes.

Good.

You're selling the place?

Leaving, yes.

Off next week.

Of course.

For the little one.

That's right.

My poor husband is rather dragging his feet.

But it will be safer at home.

Yes, that's what I said!

And who will be here after you've gone?

Oh, I have no idea.

All go to wrack and ruin, most likely.

You will be greatly missed.

I'll tell you what.

You may attend me if you must, just this once.

You tell Dr. Harrison.

(laughs) Thank you, memsahib.

Please go up, and everything will be prepared.

Thank you.

♪ ♪ (birds chirping) (Lakshmi speaking Hindi) Three go in, two come out.

(Sooni speaking Hindi) Three?

Yes, Miss.

And... (speaking Hindi) (speaking Hindi) What's she saying?

She said when they came out of the forest, one of them was limping.

Limping?

What, do you think they had a fight?

I don't know, sahib.

But... (speaking Hindi) (speaking Hindi) I heard a shot.

(speaking Hindi) (speaking Hindi) Darling.

Just quickly, there's someone I have to introduce you to.

Please allow me to present my wife Madeleine.

Oh!

Your Highness.

Oh, God.

Sirene, for Lord's sake.

Do excuse me.

Unusual name.

Unusual accent.

Not in Chicago.

Ah!

Where is home for you?

Oh, you wouldn't know it.

Western District.

Australia.

Oh.

So I know all my kings and queens, but I think the past is best left bleeding by the roadside, don't you agree?

If at all possible.

One day, you'll play on a field like this.

Where's Bhupinder?

Today, he's unwell, sahib.

"Unwell," of course he is.

Tell him it won't happen again, understood?

Miss Prasad, my lucky mascot.

I say, do you mind if I join you?

Be my guest.

Charlie?

Now then, Miss Prasad.

I wrote to my wife about you.

Oh, yes.

I told her, I said, "I've met the most delightful young woman, who's had such a sorry time of it all."

She's a very generous sort, my wife.

You wait.

She'll have something up her sleeve.

She always does.

Good afternoon, Mr. Raworth!

Good afternoon.

Lord Hawthorne, this is Mr. Raworth.

Oh, how do you do?

So, what do maharanis do all day?

Well, I can't speak for all of them, but I've been told I'm sensational in the sack.

(laughing) Is it true what they say about your husband?

That he's being kitted out for the highest office in the land?

We don't know anything yet.

But he's sent you to cultivate me.

Let's put it this way: your husband's support would certainly do him no harm.

Yes, but you have to understand that my prince likes the world exactly as it was.

And why ever not?

He's jolly happy, and why isn't everyone?

He certainly doesn't want Mr. Nehru or anyone else looking over his fence.

But... And of course, I will help in any way I can.

We outsiders need to stick together.

Thank you.

And is this your first time up here?

No!

Can I trust you?

You mustn't tell.

You have my undivided attention.

(applause) This is the cave?

Yes, this is it.

Right, Sergeant, we'll start at the back and we'll work our way out.

(speaking Hindi) Right at the back.

Quick as you can, Sergeant.

We're looking for a box.

HAWTHORNE: Come along, Mr. Khan!

(grunts) Yes!

(applause) PATEL: When did Majesty lose the use of its limbs?

HAWTHORNE: Poor chap.

I'm not sure his heart could stand it.

(laughing) Do you know, I don't think we've been properly introduced.

Cyril Hawthorne.

Sir.

Oh, Lord, what are they talking about?

I don't think we should hang about to find out, do you?

Oh, I see what you mean.

Yes, quite.

What a shame.

Let fly, Mr. Khan!

Do get a move on!

Yours, Mr. Raworth, I think.

Catch it!

Out!

Mr. Patel, you're in!

Ready!

Run!

Wait!

Singh!

(speaking Hindi) Even now, the tyrant!

Charlie!

You must go back!

Yes!

Run out!

Well done, Mr. Keane!

What a to-do.

Umpire, what's happening here?

No ball.

Bowler, your foot was over the line.

Play on!

Oh, come on, you know the rules as well as I do.

When the batsman's run out, the no-ball rule no longer applies.

We are gentlemen as well as sportsmen.

It's one and the same, surely?

Umpire, my appeal is withdrawn.

Dalal?

Play on, Mr. Keane.

Play on.

Off you go, Patel.

Oh.

AAFRIN: Sir.

Good man.

SOONI: There's nothing here.

We should go.

(music playing) Well, 94!

Very respectable.

And may I say a splendid partnership from you two.

Hear, hear.

And me, rather embarrassingly, out for a duck!

WILLINGDON: Still, I blame the umpire.

Are you sure?

I thought her name was Sirene.

STELLA: Fiddlesticks.

Phyllis!

Phyllis, that's it.

Australian.

Think she'll be in one of these.

She was a governess to... What were their names?

Dewitts.

Dewitts!

Summer of '28, was it?

Oh, don't mind me, I'm one of the girls.

Yeah, that's right, and then they had to let her go, didn't they, because she got quite spoony over poor Major Dewitt?

That's right!

Sirene.

Sounds like a hairdresser.

DAPHNE: I can't see her.

There!

RONNIE: Yes, there she is in Iolanthe.

Queen of the Fairies.

Yes, until you had her demoted to chorus because of her squawking accent.

That doesn't sound like me at all.

Now look at her: a real-life princess.

It is rather romantic.

They're not actually married, Daphne.

But they said they were!

I heard them!

Oh, Daph.

You're too delicious!

Oh, she's looking, I'd better go over.

I'm serious!

(laughing) The fair Sirene!

Yes.

Can it be you?

Last time I checked.

You seem to have aged in reverse.

I'm sorry?

Are you new to the hills?

For my sins.

I've promised her a tour of the sights.

Do you have an itinerary tucked away somewhere?

Oh, just stay put.

The whole world washes up at my door, sooner or later.

That's her, all right.

I told you!

Mrs. Coffin?

Dalal.

You look quite pink.

May I have a word?

Do not for one minute think I am afraid of you.

Fighting talk.

Don't you imagine for one minute that all your fine new friends will protect you.

I do not imagine any such thing.

But you will not destroy Alice.

Her name is Mrs. Havistock.

Do try and keep up.

Have you any idea what her life is now?

What that man is doing to her?

What's wrong with you?

She chose him.

She made her bed.

He will kill her, and this will be your doing.

Any fault here lies at your own door.

♪ ♪ So sorry to hear you're leaving us.

Really?

Who did you hear that off?

Oh!

Well, Mrs. Havistock.

Not until the end of the summer, I said.

CYNTHIA: Oh, it's the end now, is it?

Ah.

Eat up.

I'm not very keen on anchovies.

Something revolting about a woman who won't eat, don't you think?

Ralphie!

I haven't given it much thought.

I tell you, this chap is a saint in comparison.

Not again.

It's the frock, you see.

She thinks she looks fat.

I told her before, you couldn't look fat if you tried.

Of course I like it.

Oh, that look!

That look, do you remember?

Now, that?

That is the look she gave when she left your soldier's mug on the train.

Do you remember?

And what did you say?

You said she's telling fibs.

Nice and loud: she's telling fibs!

Oh, what a muddle!

Oh, go on.

Mop it up, there's a girl.

PERCY: Silly Mommy.

Mop it up!

Of course it's got nothing to do with the dress, per se.

She knows damn well it's the same dress I gave her the day we met, last winter in Bombay.

Nonsense, I've had it for years.

No, and I took her to a dance back at the hotel, and I said, "Don't you look fine?"

And you said... You're making this up.

No, no, don't you remember, darling?

And you said, "Well, if that's what you think, I might never take it off."

And I said, "Well, crumbs!

That's the last thing I need."

(Charlie and Percy laughing) Which hotel were you staying at?

In Bombay.

All talk.

Pack of lies.

Don't sulk.

What is it we say about sulkers, old man?

Nobody likes a sulky sausage.

Because naturally, the Taj Mahal Hotel is renowned for its luxury.

But sir, I would always recommend the Fairmount.

It's a very modest-looking guest house, and yet the view of the sea is unparalleled.

Ooh!

(laughs) Excuse me.

More tea, anyone?

Yes, tea.

CHARLIE: Yes, more tea.

Oh, and sandwiches for my wife.

(smacks the railing) Aafrin... You know how we all missed you when you were away as SDO?

Even your sister.

I missed you too, baapi.

But your mother... She's worried.

She thinks something is amiss.

Naturally, I told her, you know, don't fuss, give him time, and so on.

But... She persists, so...

Here I am, commanded to obey.

Baapi, when you served in the war, you saw some terrible things, no?

Yes, I did.

And when you saw those things, was it better to speak or just let it go?

No.

Always better to speak.

Always.

If you can.

Can you?

Baapi, I cannot.

I'm sorry.

Is he often like that, your husband?

That?

That was nothing.

That was jolly.

Keep a hold of yourself.

You see what he's doing?

He's teaching my son to hate me.

Give me another day or two, for God's sake.

Yes, then a day becomes a week.

Wasting my breath, aren't I?

You can't do this.

You don't have the strength.

Lucky for you, I do.

No, wait!

Ralph!

(laughing) Oh, it's Mrs. Sparrow!

A word?

Your sister.

I know, I know, I know, but what can I do?!

Calm down!

I told her I'm not letting her out of my sight.

There's only so much he can do when people are watching.

I'm sorry, Al.

Thank God for Aafrin.

Thank God.

That man's loyalty to my family.

RALPH: I don't know where to begin.

It was nothing.

Sir.

Excuse me.

You told me to come at once, sir.

Yes.

We've scoured the hill.

You go play.

Sarah?

Caught and bowled, second over!

Sarah?

Sarah?

Is he still here?

Who?

The man.

The Indian man.

He said he was a doctor.

He said he was a doctor.

Slow down-- what doctor?

But that's just the point.

I waited, and I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I know, there's Dr. Harrison standing over me with that big, stupid grin on his face, and...

But he said he was a doctor.

The Indian man?

Yes, the Indian man!

Well, what did he look like?

Um, he was young, and I suppose... yes, sort of handsome in a crude way, and... What?

Nothing.

Well, it just sounds like you had a very pleasant dream, is all.

He was real.

He was there, he was real!

Okay.

No, get off me!

It's not safe here!

It is.

We are safe.

It's not safe.

Mind the baby.

Baapi?

Ah, Sooni, my sweet.

Sorry I'm late.

There was some trouble with the cobblers.

Oh, it doesn't matter.

Look, you're here at the death.

Now, just swing and miss, do you hear?

Swing and miss.

KAISER: Five to win!

Final ball.

Come on, old love!

Swing and miss.

(crowd gasps) (cheering) RONNIE: Our hero!

Whelan, what a smash!

Sheer fluke.

Bad luck, Your Highness.

No, not luck.

The best team won.

You too, Mr. Patel.

Thank you.

Thank you both.

Bravo, Whelan!

Well played.

What is it, Aafrin?

Sir, that business with the letter.

The device buried at the cave near Combermere.

Ah, yes.

Rowntree's been down there all afternoon.

And?

Nothing.

Are you sure?

Yes.

They dug up half the hillside, by all accounts.

So it was a prank after all?

A time-waster, as you predicted.

Well, that is a relief.

Quite.

For the record, you make a first-rate umpire.

We may call on you again.

That last ball.

Thwack!

I know!

What a shot.

Young Whelan.

Great white god, no?

You're cross.

No.

Just curious.

He let vanity get the better of him.

He'd have been much better off letting me win.

Oh, you'll win.

You always do.

Make their acquaintance.

Butter up the wife.

Promise nothing.

I will not give up my father's kingdom, not for all the world.

Not for me?

Not unless you ask very nicely.

Phyllis.

(spits) (door opens) I met a ghost today.

Who's that?

Who, this?

It's old Reggie.

Your husband?

What happened to the other half of the picture?

I didn't care for it very much, tell you the truth.

Now, I've been thinking.

Since you can't keep your filthy hands off each other, you will at least do it in private.

I keep a little room.

It can be our secret, if you like.

Now, this will surprise you, but there are moments very occasionally when I almost wonder if I won't miss all this.

Why would that surprise me?

Look.

We did something.

We made something.

Well, you did.

And you'll do it all over again once I get you home.

I promise.

Will I, though?

Will I be wanted?

Will I be needed?

Oh, you'll be needed all right.

Last week.

Let's just enjoy it.

♪ ♪ (clock chiming softly) (door opens) What?

What is it?

(sobbing) Next time on Masterpiece... RONNIE: The Royal Simla Club's fashion parade!

SUMITRA: "Tell me where my wife goes, who she speaks to."

What have you told him?

Mr. Khan!

Miss Dalal.

SOONI: I have a story for your newspaper.

AAFRIN: You think I killed her?

Go on, say something!

"Indian Summers," next time on Masterpiece.

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