Miss Marple

Is this an accusation, Mrs. Price-Ridley?

Of course it's an accusation, Vicar.

- Against whom? - How on Earth am I to know that?

I'm simply pointing to the facts, you may interpret them as you please,

but facts are facts.

And you, Colonel?

I asked Colonel Protheroe, and he very kindly came.

I wanted there to be no misunderstandings.

I remember it quite clearly.

Yesterday was the anniversary of my poor dear Harvey's death,

and I always put a pound in the collection on Harvey's day.

- Yes, but, Mrs. Price-Ridley... - No but about it, Vicar, it was there.

A pound note.

Where it was not, however, was on the collection list.

The highest denomination there was a ten shilling note.

Oh, well, none of us as young as we were,

we must pay the penalty of advancing years, wouldn't you say, Colonel?

Must I say it again? It was there.

You may be suffering from senile dementia, Vicar,

despite the extreme youth of your wife,

but I am in full possession of my senses, thank you.

I'll look into it, Vicar. I'll have the answer for you.

It's quite clear something's amiss.

I suggest I go through the church accounts for you.

- Do you? - No need to burst a vessel, Vicar.

If there are defalcations, it's best that

they're torn out root and branch, you know.

Root and branch.

Anyway, I am the treasurer.

I'll pop round and get the books from your curate tomorrow evening.

If he isn't too busy with his Hail Mary's

and burning incense, that is.

The books are at the Vicarage.

Any case, I hardly see that this warrants a full scale...

So be it. Till tomorrow evening, then. At the Vicarage.

I should watch that curate of yours, Vicar.

It isn't healthy, all that Jesuitical claptrap.

I should send him to Dublin, or Rome if I were you.

He can only do damage in a place like this.

All right, darling?

The blighters need a rocket up the backside.

Thank you.

What time does the vicar want lunch?

Oh! Yes, well remembered.

He'll be a bit late today.

Uh, yes, that's right. He said he'd be a bit late.

So, um... We'd better have it... Have it... A bit late.

Bloody Protheroe. I mean really. Bloody man...

Oh, dear.

Now, don't you go starting something with Colonel bloody Protheroe.

He'll do you again.

And Constable Palk will have you up before that bench soon as open his eyes.

He's no friend of yours.

So don't you start messing with Protheroe, do you hear?

I don't want you locked up again. So don't you start.

Hadn't you better take that through?

It's a pity I'm such a shocking housekeeper.

Mary's clearly ignoring me, and we are to have no greens.

Greens.

Oh, Fortinbras, look at these.

Oh, I think things get worse when I try.

It's really much better to leave Mary alone, and...

Make up my mind to be uncomfortable and have revolting things to eat.

Oh, poor Len. I know I'm everything you most disapprove of.

You are.

I am more and more convinced that celibacy is desirable for the clergy.

And yet you adore me madly, passionately.

Beyond all reason, utterly and extravagantly, don't you, darling?

Of course.

I am very fond of you, my dear.

I see that little rat of a poacher has been let out of clink.

Bill Archer, back in circulation.

Expect trouble.

I thought I might go back into the village this afternoon.

If that's all right, darling.

Hmm.

Lawrence Redding's been pestering me for more time on the portrait.

I've been putting him off.

But I really ought to give him a couple of sessions this week.

As long as the young sewer doesn't come up here,

do what you like.

What's happened?

Ask her.

Pig!

Oh, Lord.

You realize that's going to cost me hours of morale building, don't you?

- What's been going on, Lucius? - Behaving like a tart.

Can you be a little more specific?

That young sewer, Redding,

has been painting her with practically nothing on, that's all.

Oh, really. I'm not surprised. She's very beautiful.

Why on Earth not?

For a man who's supposed to have seen the world,

you really are extraordinarily childish sometimes.

At least I'll nail that bloody little papist curate.

See you later, Griselda dear.

Oh, yes, yes... Yes. Thanks.

Darling. This afternoon. Are you coming?

- I'm sorry, my dear? - It's Tuesday.

Had you forgotten too? Tea and scandal.

The Reverend Leonard Clement and his wife Griselda, at home.

- Four o'clock. - Oh.

Rock cakes and back stabbing at the Vicarage.

- I'll do my best. - Oh, good boy.

If she's got the gall, the dreaded Price-Ridley will be there.

You can both be frightfully forgiving to each other.

- Good afternoon, Mrs. Lestrange. - Good afternoon, Doctor.

Enjoyment is the key to it all.

I know. I know.

Doctor, I wonder if I might impose upon you?

Of course.

I'm busy you know, Lettice.

It's absurd. Crazy.

I was wearing a swimsuit, for heaven's sake.

I mean, too Victorian, forbidding a man the house.

It's a shriek.

Lawrence was practically ill laughing about it.

Ann was quite decent actually.

I've usually found that a mother is more broad minded...

- Stepmother, matter of fact. - Ah, yes, of course.

You don't happen to know, do you, who it was my mother ran off with?

Nobody's ever told me.

I'm afraid I don't. It was before you came here.

Oh, yes. I suppose it was.

I don't blame her, you know.

I just wish she'd taken me too, that's all.

Father can be such a total pig.

The world would be much better off without him.

You'd be much nicer, I think.

So, Lawrence Redding agreed to paint the wretched girl.

But he painted her in her bathing costume.

Which, as we all know, is simply nudity by another name.

I should give up on that rock cake, Miss Wetherby.

Mary is a little literal in her cooking.

I think you know, perhaps I will, Mrs. Clement.

Cod in white sauce is so filling.

What's the name of that rather smart looking woman who's taken Little Gates?

- Mrs. Lestrange. - Oh, of course.

Why?

I just wondered whether she were unwell at all.

She looks perfectly all right to me.

Only I've seen Dr. Haydock coming out of Little Gates, oh, quite often.

I just wondered.

Well, he is a neighborly man, of course, and he is a neighbor.

Was he carrying a medical bag?

I... Oh, dear.

I thought perhaps, you see, they might be old acquaintances.

Well, he's keeping very quiet about it, if it is so.

As a matter of fact, I happen to know.

It's a terrible story.

Her husband was a missionary.

He was eaten.

Actually eaten.

And she was forced to become the chief's 15th wife.

Dr. Haydock was with the expedition which rescued her.

Really, my dear, really.

Good afternoon, ladies.

Oh, how nice. - Do forgive my not joining you.

I seemed to have been behind with everything this week.

Darling, don't forget the studio again.

Ah, of course.

Since I let Mr. Redding have the old summer house as a studio,

on Tuesdays I've become a diocesan rent collector as well.

- Excuse me. - Goodbye, Vicar.

I wonder, by the way, if there really is anything

between Lawrence Redding and Lettice Protheroe?

- What do you think, Miss Marple? - I shouldn't have thought so myself.

Not Lettice.

No.

Quite another person, I should have thought.

But the Colonel was very cross about Lawrence Redding painting Lettice.

Yes.

Colonel Protheroe has always struck me as being rather a stupid man.

Damn.

You saw us, didn't you?

We love each other.

I suppose, to you, that seems very wrong.

Do you expect me to say anything else, Mrs. Protheroe?

I... No. No, I don't.

I haven't...

I mean...

Things aren't what you might think they are.

I'm glad of that.

I often wonder why not. I don't see how any woman

could be anything but miserable with Lucius.

I wish he'd drink himself to death.

Oh, I know. I know.

I thought I heard...

Lawrence might have...

No. No one.

- My dear Mrs. Protheroe... - Oh, no, Mr. Clement.

You're very kind,

and I know the sort of thing you feel you ought to say,

the sort of thing you might like to say, but it's no good.

I'm beyond all that. I really am.

Thank you.

I'm sorry.

The fact remains that the principle is exactly the same.

Evensong!

- Good night, Vicar. - Night, Major.