The Naughty Victorians: An Erotic Tale of a Maiden's Revenge

- Hyde Park has a kind of serenity today.

The sort of serenity I feel now.

Although, perhaps justice better describes it.

Yes.

A poetic justice.

It is hard now to believe that the entire adventure

began just three months ago.

It had been April 12th, 1874.

I remember the date well,

for Gilbert and Sullivan's new play, HMS Pinafore,

had opened the night before.

I recall how Sir Arthur's music haunted me

as I approached Jack's flat in Victoria.

Our engagement had been terminated a week earlier,

when my father decided that a school master

was simply not the proper match for his only daughter.

I was, you see, an innocent maiden then.

Indeed, I scarcely believe how innocent I really was.

Just three short months ago.

Alice.

Dear, Alice.

- I've only stopped by for a moment.

Your letters and books.

Yes, I've missed them.

But you're alone, quite alone.

Is Marion not with you?

Oh!

Marion, yes.

My sister.

She had a wretched headache.

Oh, how sad.

Won't you come in?

You look rather frantic.

In fact, rather wild.

It suits you.

No!

I can't.

I had a dreadful afternoon at Harrods.

And I'm in a frightful hurry to get home.

- Well, have a good day, and give my best wishes to Marion

for a speedy recovery.

Good heavens!

I've ruined my frock.

Could I possibly borrow your umbrella?

- Yes, do come in while I go and look.

Won't you come in?

- I'll wait right here while you get the umbrella.

Frightfully sorry, vanished.

Although I could have sworn I put it in the stand.

I must have left it in my study at school.

How careless of me.

You always--

Oh no!

Oh, I am sorry.

Oh no!

Do you have something that will calm me?

Of course.

Tea?

Please.

Two sugars.

Why, cucumber sandwiches.

How recklessly extravagant.

For you, my dear.

How delightfully thoughtful.

Thank you.

My goodness.

Oh my goodness!

It seems to be getting worse out there.

At this rate, I shan't get home this evening.

What horrid fortune!

- What seems horrid fortune often is a blessing in disguise.

- Why, whatever do you mean, Jack?

Oh, Jack!

I'm petrified of thunderstorms.

By jove, it is coming down,

and it looks though it might last.

How unfortunate!

Oh, Jack!

I'm frightened.

- Then, why don't you take refuge with me

in the snuggery?

For in there, you'll not hear the thunder.

It's a soundproof room.

Shall we?

Yes!

Yes!

Yes!

Behold!

Wow!

It's huge, Jack.

Whatever do you do here?

- It's a private study for studying private things.

I never let school et cetera, intrude.

Look, rain.

Oh dear!

No exit?

Ah yes, you see it but...

Not a sound.

Did you arrange that?

- No actually, it was that way when I found it.

And I must say I am awfully pleased about it.

It's hard to imagine a study

without the sound of falling rain.

Do you ever listen to it?

I do.

When I'm at home, for hours.

- No, I find it rather depressing.

This place used to be a mad house some 50 years ago.

Took me hours of research to find that out.

I found the place quite by accident.

London is full of surprises.

Many people are inspired by the sound of falling rain.

Darwin, for instance.

Have you read his latest book on earthworms?

Oh God, no!

You know, Jack.

I feel as if this room were waiting for me.

- Down there was the exercise room

for women of the upper middle classes.

A nut hatch, a loony bin?

A lovely thought.

Yes, isn't it?

Staircase is my own addition.

Why don't we go down?

No!

I think I ought to be going now.

I am sure the storm must be almost over.

- I assure you these storms last 34 minutes

at the very least.

We have plenty of time.

- Isn't science an extraordinary thing?

Oh really?

Why don't you go down?

I hardly dare.

It's so dark down there.

Watch!

Another one of my improvements.

What won't you think of next?

- It's the new electricity thing.

Electricity?

Hmm!

I've made many additions,

but I think I've managed to preserve

the original atmosphere, don't you think?

- Clever of you to pad the walls.

Oh, that's original.

The cloth was my own idea.

Oh!

Gainsborough.

Oh!

Prepare.

- I find I need the space for my purpose.

It's more comfortable.

- What's in there? - Photographic equipment.

Must stay away, it has to be kept clean.

Some of my pictures are over there on the table.

Oh, Jack!

They're lovely.

May 1?

Oh, please do.

- You know, even when I first met you at Lady Bunt's,

you were always tinkering.

Repairing her mechanical link figure, I think,

or whatever it was.

Is this your gymnasium setup, Jack?

- Well, I do do some exercise from time to time.

I find it relates to my larger purpose.

What might that be, Jack?

Your violation, my dear.

My what?

- The surrender to me of your maidenhead.

- You must be mad to speak like this to me.

- I've waited one whole long year for this moment.

You amused yourself with my heart.

And now it is my turn to amuse myself with your body.

You forget yourself.

Be so good as to consider our friendship suspended,

until you have suitably apologized

for your shocking lapse of taste.

Meanwhile, I will only trouble you to call a cab,

so that I might remove myself from your hateful presence.

- I might warn you that your screams and cries for help

will not be heard.

You will depart from here when I choose to let you go.

How dare you?

Am I a child that you're going to speak to me like this?

No!

No!

You're a lusciously lovely girl.

Possessing everything I desire,

and able to satisfy my fondest dream.

How dare you?

- I give you two alternatives. - You give me what?

And only two.

Either you submit quietly,

or do you prefer force?

You're mad.

Oh, I wouldn't say that.

You have three minutes.

If by the time the clock chimes the half hour