good evening.
you must think me awfully rude. i've been staring at you ever since i saw you at the hotel.
you are jo conway, the jo conway?
didn't i tell you? i knew i was right.
i'm lucy drayton, and this is my husband.
of course we hardly ever see a show. edward is such an old stick-in-the- mud. so i have to console myself with your records.
when are you coming back to london?
don't tell me you've given up the stage.
oh dear, oh dear. i'm always saying the wrong thing.
tell me; dr. mckenna do you always.
edward was a big noise at the ministry of food during the war, you know.
i must do some shopping in the market tomorrow. i do hope it'll be fine. fine, but not too fine. of course, i how our english weather is awful, but i sometimes think we don't know when we're lucky. all this sunshine, day after day. it seems unnatural, somehow.
he's the teller of tales, hank. he reads legends and famous old stories from history.
i've never enjoyed the market place so much. oh!
he's delighted with everything.
hank, it's best to keep away from trouble.
it looks as though the police are chasing somebody.
you don't want your little boy to go, do you?
perhaps it would be best if i took him back to the hotel.
mrs. mckenna?
this is mrs. drayton. you remember me?
he's here. with me. you mustn't worry about him, really you mustn't.
i expect you'd like to speak to him, wouldn't you?
just a minute.
it's time you went to bed, dear. you'll get tired out.
yes, you finish. edna, see that he gets some milk and biscuits.
you'll go to sleep, hank, won't you?
look it doesn't hurt to be kind. yell out when you want me to open the door.
i wish it was tomorrow.
oh, no!
hank -- are you sure? are you really sure?
what is she doing here?
hank? -- can you whistle that song?
you've got to let the boy go!