♪
Ladies and gentlemen, lot twenty two.
An Edgar Brandt wrought iron wall mirror and console table.
I shall open the bidding at thirty pounds.
Do I see thirty pounds?
Is this what you came for, Poirot?
Yes it is, Hastings.
I thought for the vestibule, you know, by the door?
How high will you go?
Ninety pounds. It would be enough.
Sixty pounds.
And seventy.
Here!
Eighty pounds. Thank you, madam.
Ninety pounds.
At ninety pounds, then.
Ninety pounds. Any more?
A hundred pounds.
It's with you, sir.
A hundred twenty.
Sir?
At one hundred and twenty pounds then. Any more?
Sold to Mr. Chevenix.
Oh, that was a bit of bad luck, Poirot!
I thought you had it there.
So Hastings, did I.
Mr. Poirot?
You are Hercule Poirot, are you not?
The detective.
- Yes. - No hard feelings, I hope.
- Non. - Good. My card.
Tell me, what do you know about modern art, Mr. Poirot?
I'm a collector.
Also I deal in paintings and sculptures as my business.
And I have to tell you
I'm not a man who is easily fooled.
That is self-evident, monsieur.
It will surprise you to learn, that I've even been defrauded.
I want you to look into it.
The services of Hercule Poirot are not inexpensive.
Maybe I'll give you the mirror. What do you say?
I'm in a place, Hamborough Close, near Whimperley.
How about tomorrow?
That is out of the question.
The day after then? Let me know.
Oh! That was a bit of a cheek, wasn't it?
Yes indeed, Hastings.
This...
... Gervase Chevenix.
It does not occur to him that Poirot is also a man of importance?
A man of affairs?
And yet he summons me like a mere nobody. An obedient dog.
Well, I take it you'll refuse.
To refuse? Yes, it is my first instinct.
But you know, Hastings,
a man with so much arrogance as this...
Even he may be vulnerable in ways he can not see.
And he did offer you that mirror.
That too.
I'll get the tickets tomorrow.
And do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?
I do.
Well, then we are then.
Now, let me see...
- You have a ring? - Yes.
That's right.
John Lake, Ruth Chevenix,
I'm pleased to declare you man and wife.
I wish it didn't have to be like this.
I do love you.
Merci.
- Mr. Poirot? - Oui.
My name is Susan Cardwell. Do you mind if I join you?
Pas du toût, Mademoiselle (of course).
Asseyez-vous, s'il vous plaît (sit down, please).
This is my associate, Captain Hastings.
- How do you do? - How do you do?
May I offer you a cup of coffee?
Oh, I won't. Thank you.
My fiancé, Hugo, told me to look out for you.
Actually, he is not my fiancé, not officially, anyway.
- Hugo? - Oh, Hugo Trent, Gervase's nephew.
He's meeting you at the station, so
he suggested I come on the same train.
Are you staying with Monsieur Chevenix?
Unfortunately, yes.
Well, I've only met him once and,
he was absolutely horrible to me.
He doesn't approve of you?
It's not that. It's just...
Well, it's..., its Hugo and me.
You see, Gervase has always had his heart set
on Hugo marrying his daughter Ruth.
- But he's not inclined to do that. - No.
You see, Ruth was adopted.
I suppose Gervase thinks marrying her to his nephew will
make her more completely his.
- But he can't force her to marry, can he? - He can try.
He will try.
I think he enjoys it, manipulating other people.
I really hate him, you know? I do.
And I am not going to let him spoil my life.
Here's Hugo.
Susan!
- You must be Mr. Poirot. - Monsieur!
- And... - Arthur Hastings.
Hugo Trent.
Er look, I'm supposed to be driving you to Hamborough Close,
but I've got to stop off at my studio.
Do you mind terribly?
- Not at all. - It's on the way.
And these are my designs, all of them.
What we doing here is revolutionary, Mr. Poirot.
What do you think?
I think it is most remarkable.
- Is it all metal? - Tubular steel.
You see, who needs wood, Captain Hastings?
Wood expands, it perishes, it dries out.
But metal, metal is perfect.
See? Triangulated joinery.
- So fast. - Oh, yes. I see.
- Hugo! - Give me a minute, Lawrence.
Look at this.
Sit down.
What do you think?
I think...
that it is perfectly conceived.
This is the future, Mr. Poirot.
- And I could sell thousands, if only... - Uncle Gervase.
He does not support this enterprise?
Just getting this far has been a struggle.
Now the banks are closing in,
and I may have to sell my designs just to pay them off.
Hugo.
They telephoned while you were out.
They won't give you any more time.
I'll have to speak to them.
Excuse me, Mr. Poirot.
Lawrence will have to drive you.
Damn it to hell!
Hmm! Quite a place.
Good afternoon, gentlemen.
Mr. Chevenix is waiting for you.
Merci.
Enter.
Monsieur Poirot, sir.
Oh, Mr. Poirot.
Good of you to come.
You brought your secretary?
This is my associate, Captain Hastings.
Oh, yes! I saw him at the auction.
Well, what do you think?
Hung it this morning. Looks good, doesn't it?
Yes, indeed.
Shall I come back later, Mr. Chevenix?
Aye yes.
We'll sort out that stuff on Matisse.
This is Miss Lingard, my research assistant.
- How do you do? - Mademoiselle Lingard.
We're working on a study of fauvism,
for the British museum of modern art.
Oh Miss Lingard, is that architect here?
I believe so, Mr. Chevenix.
Have him come in, will you?
Ten thousand pounds, Mr. Poirot.
Not a drop in the ocean.
That's how much I paid him, John Lake.
And this is the fraud you wish me to investigate?
Yes.
For what purpose did you give him the money?
A big development in London.
Shops, offices, apartments.
He's building it and he's got me to invest.
So far, he hasn't even laid a brick.
I'm beginning to wonder if he ever will.
You wanted to see me, Gervase?
Come in, Lake.
There's someone I want you to meet.
This is Hercule Poirot.
- The detective? - Yes.
Why don't you take Mr. Poirot into the garden and get him some tea?
I'll see you at dinner.
We'll meet in the hall, a quarter past eight.
Do try not to be late.
Snell rings the first gong at eight minutes past the hour
and the second at eight fifteen.
I'll see you then.
I, uh... I don't suppose...
You're not here on business, Mr. Poirot?
That is precisely why I am here, Monsieur Lake.
Uh.
Typical of Gervase.
He likes to spring his surprises.
Let me introduce you.
This is Mrs. Vanda Chevenix.
Hercule Poirot. Captain Hastings.
- Madame. - How do you do?
And their daughter, Miss Chevenix.
Ruth.
Mademoiselle.
- Hello. - Hello.
Apparently, Mr. Poirot is doing some work for your father.
- For Gervase? Really? - Oui.
It is about the death.
What death, Madame Chevenix?
Saphra warned me there would be a death.
She told me not to be afraid.
Ah... who's Saphra?
She was a servant of Amenhotep.
- She is my spiritual guide. - Now come on, Vanda.
I'm sure Mr. Poirot doesn't want to hear about all that.
Au contraire, mademoiselle.
Poirot interests himself always in matters of the occult.
You permit?
Merci.
It is very old.
It is three thousand years old.
It was hers.
This belonged to Saphra?
She is never wrong.
I er... better be going.
I'll walk round with you.
- Excuse me. - Right.
Tea?
Evening, Hugo.
Where are you going, Ruth?
Dropped my brooch, somewhere. Outside, I think.
Have you spoken to Gervase?
Yes. He's impossible.
Entrez.
Oh! You're not ready yet?
Oh we have plenty of time, mon ami.
Are you sure?
I could have sworn I've heard the first gong.
Non. Let me see.
Non, it is six minutes past eight, only.
- What was that? - I do not know.
It was a gunshot.
Good evening, Miss Ruth.
Good evening, Miss Lingard.
Is something the matter?
- I'm not late, am I? - Did you hear it, Susan?
- What? - I thought I heard a shot.
Just now? I thought it was a car backfiring.
- Ruth! - What's going on?
We thought we heard a gun going off.
Oh, yes. I thought I heard something.
It came from upstairs.
No, it was a car. It came from over there.
- I heard it too. - Snell?
Yes, madam?
It is eight fifteen.
- Time for the second gong. - Yes, madam.
But where is Monsieur Chevenix?
He is never late.
He was working in the study, ma'am.
This door down must be broken open immediately.
Here. Let me.
Poirot...
I told you, Saphra is never wrong.
- Evening, Poirot. - Chief-Inspector Japp.
- Right. Where's the body? - This way, Chief-Inspector.
Chief-Inspector...
- Suicide. - So it would appear.
I'd say it was obvious.
The bullet must have gone straight through his head and hit the mirror.
So it would appear.
He left a note.
"Sorry".
I suppose that says it all.
Look at this, Chief-Inspector.
What is it?
It is a small fragment of the looking glass.
There must be splinters all over the place.
- Who found the body? - We did.
We heard a shot at about ten past eight and then we broke in the door.
Let me see...
Ah... just as I thought.
He locked himself in.
That more or less wraps it up .
You believe so?
Well, we've got a dead man.
You heard a shot.
He's alone in the room, the gun's in his hand and the door's locked.
What about the windows?
- Fastened. - And this one.
This one too.
Right, I'll better go have a word with Mrs. Chevenix.
Not that there's much to say.
You know, it does look like suicide, Poirot.
Oui, c'est possible, mon ami.
And yet, there are many things I wish to know.
For example,
why was the mirror broken?
And why was there mud on the shoes belonging to Mademoiselle Ruth Chevenix?
Voilà.
Footprints.
Yes, Hastings. They are the footprints of a lady.
And directly outside the study of Monsieur Chevenix.
But the french window's locked from the inside.
But this window, Hastings, it can be locked from the outside.
Regarde.
By raising the metal catch so,
and then with a push...
Good Lord.
You know, Chief-Inspector,
life is one of the great illusions.
I'm afraid I don't quite agree with that, Mrs. Chevenix.
Gervase knew that.
He and I, you see, we met on the same plane.
On holiday?
The spiritual plane.
He was one of the "great ones".
He too, found it hard to conform to the silly standards of the everyday world.
And he believed me.
About the death.
You've been told about his death?
Oh, yes...
Saphra told me.
She knew.
Did she indeed?
Mrs. Chevenix, can you tell me where I might be able to get hold to this Saphra?
She used to live in Egypt.
But she moved?
No.
Definitely so.
- Oh hello, Mr. Poirot. - Mr. Poirot.
Monsieur Trent,
did you see your uncle earlier this evening?
Yes.
It must have been about seven.
He was dressed for dinner.
I--I went to see him to ask him to help me with my business.
But he wouldn't listen.
He wanted Hugo to marry Ruth.
No marriage to Ruth, no money for me.
That's what it boiled down to.
So, Monsieur Trent, you had no reason, therefore, to celebrate.
None at all.
It was not you, then, that opened this bottle of champagne?
No.
Curious. The bottle of champagne, it is opened,
and yet the contents are not consumed.
Ah! There you are, Poirot.
You got any idea how I can get hold of this Saphra?
Some sort of friend of Mrs. Chevenix.
Saphra's dead.
She is Vanda's spirit guide.
Ah!
I might as well be off, then.
You believe there is nothing investigate?
Gervase Chevenix shot himself.
I'm sure of it.
In that event, Chief-Inspector, d'accord.
We return at once to London.
There are perhaps, two questions that you might be able to answer for me.
Oh, yes.
First question.
Was Monsieur Chevenix right-handed or left-handed?
What's the other question?
It is more simple.
If Monsieur Chevenix shot himself...
What has happened to the bullet?
- Hello, Miss Chevenix. - Is Mr. Poirot in?
Yes, come with me this way.
- Miss Chevenix is here. - Mademoiselle.
Mr. Poirot, I need to see you.
Please, do sit down, mademoiselle.
Is it true that Gervase hired you to investigate John Lake?
Oui, Mademoiselle.
Monsieur Chevenix believed that he was the object of a fraud.
Well, I've come to tell you that the case is over.
I don't know what he offered to pay you,
but I hope that will cover it.
Mademoiselle,
the company of Monsieur John Lake...
what is it called?
It's Northgate Development.
But I'm telling you, Mr. Poirot, there is nothing to investigate.
May I ask, Mademoiselle,
were you close to your guardian?
I was grateful to Gervase.
And he wasn't just my guardian.
He was actually my uncle.
But he adopted you.
I was what is quaintly called a love child.
My father was Gervase's younger brother.
He was killed in the war, and my mother was a typist.
Ah!
And where is she now?
I don't know.
When my father died, she wrote to Gervase.
He couldn't have any children of his own, so he adopted me.
I see.
Please do sit down, Mademoiselle.
Tell me, mademoiselle,
on the night of the death of Monsieur Chevenix,
where were you at eight o'clock?
I was in the house.
But you went out, I think?
- Did I? - Oh, yes.
There was mud on your shoes, I remarked on that fact.
You don't miss a thing, do you?
Yes, I went out twice.
At about six o'clock, I went to pick some daisies, just by the study.
And later?
It must have been just after eight.
I realized I'd dropped my brooch and I went back to get it.
It is as simple as that?
If you don't believe me, you can ask Miss Lingard.
Mademoiselle Lingard?
She was in the lounge, when I came in.
- Mr. Poirot! - Mademoiselle Lingard.
- Captain Hastings. - Miss Lingard.
Huh! You quite startled me.
Still working on the book, I see?
Well, yes. I was paid until the end of the month and
book's so nearly finished. It's a shame to stop now.
But this is not, I believe, a fauve painting.
No, it's later.
But it's such a beautiful painting.
- So sad... - Yes, indeed.
Mademoiselle Lingard, I wonder if I might ask you some questions
concerning the death of Monsieur Gervase Chevenix?
On the night of his death, as the study door was being broken open,
I noticed that you bent down to retrieve something.
Oh, yes!
It was this.
It looks like a bullet.
That's what I thought.
But in fact, it's a cuff link.
I believe it belongs to Mr. Trent. I was meaning to give it back to him.
I wonder what it was doing outside the study?
I've no idea.
If you permit, I shall return it to him, on your behalf.
Oh! Thank you.
One final question, Mademoiselle Lingard.
Ruth Chevenix.
What about her?
I understand that you saw her just before the body was discovered.
Yes, it was just after we all heard the shot.
She was with me in the living room.
Ah. It is as I thought.
Merci.
Well, that seems to back up Ruth's story.
Tell me Hastings, what was your opinion of Mademoiselle Ruth?
I dunno.
I'd like to know why she seemed so keen to defend John Lake.
Precisément.
And that is also the question that exercises the little grey cells of Poirot.
All right Poirot, you win. It wasn't suicide.
From what comes this change of mind, Chief-Inspector?
Well, it's like you said, Gervase Chevenix was right-handed.
But when we found him, the gun was in his left hand.
And as for the bullet, it's vanished into thin air.
- Isn't it in the wall? - Nowhere.
And here's something you ought to see.
The last will and testament of Gervase Chevenix.
Leaving his fortune, and it's a tidy sum,
to Vanda and Ruth Chevenix.
They split it fifty-fifty.
Oh and there is a bequest of two thousand pounds
to Hugo Trent.
Ah! So he received his capital, after all.
Ah yes, but there is something else.
We found this in one of his desk drawers.
Unlocked. Anyone could have seen it.
A second will!
Yes, but unsigned.
What does it entail?
It's completely barmy.
Vanda Chevenix gets everything
if Hugo Trent and Ruth Chevenix don't marry each other.
I say!
That sounds like a motive for murder, if ever I heard one.
Right. That's what I thought, too.
So, you are suggesting that Monsieur Chevenix was killed
to prevent him from signing this new will?
Right.
It is possible, yes.
But there's one thing I'd like to know, Poirot.
What is that, Chief-Inspector?
What exactly were you doing at Hamborough Close?
How did you get mixed up in all this?
Fraud?
That is what Monsieur Chevenix believed.
Northgate Developments.
Not quite what you'd expect, is it?
Or if this place is just a fraud, Captain Hastings,
it's exactly what I'd expect.
The door is open.
It's very quiet.
There don't seem to be anybody about.
Place is deserted.
They must've done a baulk.
I say Poirot! Come and look at this.
Pond Street Harrow.
It's a scale model of the development.
Does it not remind you of something, Hastings?
Looks a bit like Hamborough Close.
It is the work of the same hand.
Hastings! Do you smell smoke?
Yeah.
God, there's someone in there. Japp!
What is it?
Blimey...
It's John Lake.
Come on, get him outside.
Sacré, the fire! It is spreading!
Chief-Inspector, Hastings, follow me!
Careful, Captain Hastings!
I can't see...
Good Lord!
Mr. Poirot...
Sorry. I've been foolish.
You wish to tell me about Northgate Development, Monsieur Lake?
Yes.
I did not know what I was doing.
That's the truth of it.
I was out of my depth.
To start with, I was just the architect.
They asked me if I'd like to be a partner.
I didn't know anything about business, but I was flattered.
And so you helped them to raise the finance?
Yes.
And they disappeared with it, leaving you to carry the can.
That's right.
When Gervase called you in, I..., I was afraid. I panicked.
I just wanted to get rid of the evidence.
So it was you that started the blaze?
I set a device, a timer.
Which misfired.
If you..., if you hadn't found me...
- Mr. Poirot... - Mademoiselle.
Chief-Inspector. I have to go in.
I'm sorry, miss. No visitors.
But you don't understand. I must see him.
It's family only. Those are doctor's orders.
I am family, Chief-Inspector.
I'm his wife.
John and I were married a week ago.
Can I go in?
Your husband awaits you.
Well, well, well.
So, Ruth secretly married John!
Well, good luck to her, is all I can say.
But you also have plans for the marriage, Mademoiselle Susan.
Yes. And from now on, I'll be helping Hugo with his business.
But what brings you here, Mr. Poirot?
Do you want to place an order?
Oh non, non, non, Monsieur Trent.
It is just this. It belongs, I think, to you.
Yes. Yes, it is mine.
Where did you find it?
Monsieur Trent, on the night that your uncle died,
did you see Monsieur John Lake?
No. No, he was in the library.
You heard the shot?
Yes. Susan heard it too.
Yes, I was dashing down the corridor.
I thought it was a car backfiring.
But why were you dashing, Mademoiselle?
I'd got muddled with the gongs, and I was terrified of being late.
You see, I thought I'd already heard the first gong.
- Yes, I thought I heard it too. - Exactly, Hastings.
And yet, I, Hercule Poirot,
did not hear.
- The case is solved. - Solved? How?
Ah Hastings, did you not hear the testimony of Mademoiselle Cardwell?
And do you not recollect the bottle of champagne?
It's gonna take more than champagne to solve this case, Poirot.
What about the bullet, for instance?
You shall have the bullet, Chief-Inspector.
Soon, you shall have everything.
I have asked you all to come here
so that you might learn the true facts
concerning the death of Monsieur Gervase Chevenix.
He is not dead.
Madame?!
He's on a different spiritual plane. That's all.
Vanda...
First, we must accept the fact that this was no suicide.
Monsieur Chevenix did not kill himself.
Non. He was killed.
- And by someone in this very room. - It's not possible.
There was no one in here when we broke in.
The door was locked from the inside. Gervase had the key.
And the windows were fastened.
Anyway, no one would've wanted to kill him.
Indeed.
And yet, it was you, Mademoiselle Cardwell,
you yourself who told to me that you hated him.
And that you would not let nothing stand in between you and Monsieur Hugo Trent.
That's not fair.
And you, Monsieur Trent,
you were desperate to see your business succeed.
It's true. I-I needed money.
Money which you now have, monsieur.
Money which you would never have received without the death of your uncle.
You also, Monsieur Lake...
Oh, yes.
You are afraid from the moment you set eyes on Poirot.
You have not only committed arson,
you also persuaded Monsieur Chevenix
to part with the sum of ten thousand pounds.
- That wasn't my fault! - Non?
I think Monsieur Chevenix might have disagreed.
And you, also.
You had every good reason to wish your guardian dead, Madame Lake.
I had no reason at all.
Anyway, even if it was murder, it couldn't have been me.
- Non? - I told you, Mr. Poirot.
Miss Ruth was in the living room with me when Mr. Chevenix was killed.
At what time was that, Mademoiselle Lingard?
And at what time did Monsieur Chevenix die?
We know the time he died. We heard the shot.
Non, non, non!
You were deceived.
At eight o'clock, Monsieur Chevenix was indeed in his study,
working at his desk.
But he was not alone in the room.
He turned.
The gun was silenced.
No one heard the shot.
So, let us now consider the language of the bullet.
Hastings, please do sit.
The gun was discovered in the left hand of Monsieur Chevenix.
Good. My card.
And yet, from our very first meeting,
I knew that Monsieur Chevenix was right-handed.
But if the bullet was fired from behind...
Hastings? Comme ça...
How could it possibly hit the mirror which is to the side?
- Well, it couldn't have. - Non.
So, now let us suppose that the door to the study was open.
If you please, Monsieur Snell.
Thank you.
And again, Hastings, the gun comme ça.
It would have hit the gong!
So that was the gong I heard.
Well then, how did the mirror get broken?
The murderer wanted to make it an appearance of suicide.
But what if the sound of the gong has been heard?
Then it would be known that the door to the study was open and not closed.
Quickly, the door is closed...
... and locked.
The gun is placed into the left hand of the dead man.
The key goes into the pocket.
The suicide note of one word is easily forged
and the mirror deliberately smashed.
When I first came here, you will remember, Chief-Inspector,
that I discovered a fragment of the looking glass attached to this brass ornament,
the base of which was also slightly damaged.
It was then that I saw the light.
So, what happened then?
How did the killer leave?
The killer left through the window,
cleverly closing the latch from the outside.
Voilà.
So, who was it? Who was the murderer?
Who entered the house, that night, from the garden?
And who would have lost everything
if Monsieur Chevenix had lived to sign his new will?
What new will?
The will that disinherited you completely if you did not marry Monsieur Hugo Trent.
But it was too late, Madame Lake,
for you were already married.
No, you're wrong. Stop him.
Non, Monsieur Poirot is never wrong.
The will, it was left in this room. You could have seen it at any time.
But it was too late to undo what you had already done.
Oh yes, you were married, but to the man your guardian most disliked.
I was going to tell him. I hated lying.
I planned to tell him that very night.
No, not to tell him, madame. To kill him.
You're wrong!
Not a word of truth in your story.
It's a lie from start to finish.
That is for a jury to decide.
You sure you're gonna be all right, Vanda?
Yes, yes. Good night, Hugo.
Good night, Mrs. Chevenix.
Ah! Poor Ruth. I still don't believe it.
I hope you know what you're doing, Poirot.
Vanda...
Wake up...
Who is it?
It's Saphra, Vanda...
Come downstairs.
It was you, Vanda.
You killed him.
- No. - You know it was.
You killed Gervase.
Come down.
You killed him because you hated him.
Now you must make amends.
I didn't...
What have you hidden in your locket, Vanda?
The bullet that killed your husband.
No.
You must write a note admitting it.
And then...
No...
It is enough!
I knew that you would try something, Mademoiselle Lingard.
But this?
It's diabolical.
I had to save her.
I had to save Ruth.
Yes, I know.
And in order to save her,
you killed Monsieur Gervase Chevenix.
And you are the real mother of Ruth Chevenix, are you not?
The typist with whom the brother of Monsieur Gervase Chevenix fell in love.
How did you know?
There could be no other explanation.
And in the museum, that was when I saw.
But it's such a beautiful painting.
So sad.
It was a painting of a mother who loses her child.
And it was then that I saw
that you were also a mother who had lost her child.
And you came to this house, I think,
to check up on the daughter that you had lost
so you took up the position of a researcher.
Yes.
And while you were working, you stumbled across the new will.
He was going to ruin her life with his...
... pride and his snobbery.
So you decided to take matters into your own hand.
You killed Monsieur Gervase Chevenix, exactly as I described.
You then left the study,
taking care to leave no footprints in the soil.
But unknown to you,
a few moments later, Ruth Chevenix appeared
in search of a brooch which she had lost.
She found it, but in doing so, left behind her own footprints.
It was then necessary to continue the illusion of suicide,
and to establish a false time of death.
It was very clever, that idea of yours to imitate a gun.
You then, went into the living room
and were there when Ruth Chevenix came in.
Good evening, Miss Ruth.
Oh! Good evening, Miss Lingard.
I found it most significant that you did not tell to me
that Ruth Chevenix entered the living room from the garden.
Well, how could I?
It would have incriminated her.
And there was now but one thing left to do.
The bullet.
I found it by the gong when you were breaking through the door.
I wanted to drop it inside the study,
but I didn't get the chance.
And the cuff link of Monsieur Trent?
I stole that from his room.
I knew you'd seen me picking up the bullet,
so I had to have something to show you.
You almost succeeded in confusing Poirot.
Chief-Inspector.
I think you better come along with me, Miss Lingard.
Mr. Poirot,
I didn't want Ruth to see me.
I don't care what happens to me,
but please...
... don't let her see me.
You have my word.
Thank you.
♪
Translation, correction & resync by titta to Addic7ed.com