[bishop] We are gathered together here in the sight of God
and in the face of this congregation
to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony.
♪ Princess ♪
[bishop] Instituted of God in the time of man's innocency,
signifying unto us
the mystical union that is betwixt Christ and his Church.
Therefore, it is not by any to be enterprised,
nor taken in hand, unadvisedly, lightly or wantonly,
to satisfy men's carnal lusts and appetites,
like brute beasts that understand nothing.
But reverently, discreetly, advisedly,
soberly and in the fear of God.
Duly considering the causes for which matrimony was ordained.
♪ And now I've crowned you ♪
♪ My princess ♪
[camera winding]
♪ Though there's nothing in a name ♪
[camera shutter clicking]
♪ Others would've sounded ♪
♪ Pretty tame ♪
♪ If you were poorer... ♪
♪ I could be no surer ♪
[camera shutter clicks]
♪ That you're a princess ♪
♪ May I call you princess? ♪
♪ If you say you love me ♪
[Beaton] That's absolutely charming. Thank you very much.
Very, very fresh. Full of vitality, thank you.
And we're going to do another one when we're ready, and...
Colin, chin down a little bit. Very much down a little bit.
-Thank you. To me, everyone, and flash. -[camera shutter clicks]
-[all] The bride and groom! -[Margaret] The bride and groom.
[guests clapping]
[orchestra playing]
Bloody awful things, weddings.
-Dreadfully upsetting. -Unless it's one's own, of course.
[Billy] Mm. [exhales]
Another couple off to build a castle.
Lower the portcullis. Pull up the drawbridge.
-What? How do you mean? -Couples do that, don't they?
They turn to each other, and all we see is their backs.
So, what am I to do, Billy?
No one wants to take me on, apparently.
I'm too daunting a prospect.
I could give it a go.
Don't be silly, you're a friend.
Yes, but isn't that the first quality one should look for in a husband?
In the olden days, people weren't confused.
People married for sensible reasons. Marriage was a consolidation of assets.
Also of other things.
-Of friendship and values. -[scoffs]
Outlooks.
We'd breed derby winners, have an army of children...
-Billy... -Look, and I'd know the ropes.
I know the rules. Your family all know me, and I think are not averse.
-Oh, they adore you. -And I you.
Always have.
I'm your Old Faithful, after all.
-[music concludes] -[guests clapping]
[chuckles]
[sighs]
[Elizabeth] Mummy said something interesting the other day.
-Oh? -[sighs]
She said that the first ten years of marriage are just an overture.
That there's often a crisis at ten years, but then you work it out and settle in...
and it's only then that it really gets into its stride.
Oh.
Do you suppose that's what's happened to us?
Possibly.
I was thinking, perhaps we should have a big anniversary party this year.
To celebrate hitting our stride.
All right.
[phone rings]
Yes?
All right. [mouths] It's Margaret.
[Elizabeth on phone] So how was it?
It somehow managed to lift the spirits
and make one want to kill oneself in equal measure.
Took forever to get there.
-Mummy was a nightmare. -Was she?
Mercifully, they sent a helicopter to bring us back. [chuckles]
Hmm.
And I have this horrible feeling that somewhere, in the middle of it all...
-I agreed to get married myself. -What?
-To whom? -Billy Wallace.
Goodness!
Congratulations! [mouths] Billy Wallace.
Oh, Christ!
So if I were to accept, it would be a yes from you?
Yes, of course.
An emphatic yes.
And Philip and I were just discussing having a party
for our tenth wedding anniversary,
and you and Billy could use the occasion to announce your engagement,
if you wanted.
That's a nice idea.
Well, that's settled then. [inhales]
-Thank you. -My pleasure. Goodnight, Margaret.
[line clicks]
[exhales deeply]
[man on television] ...perhaps you'd explain why it is
that the satellite keeps on circling the Earth
instead of either flying off into space or dropping to the ground.
I'm not sure how I feel about a Russian satellite circling the Earth...
just above our heads. What's it doing up there?
Notionally, it's providing information
about the density of the Earth's upper atmosphere.
Of course its darker purpose is to demonstrate to everyone
the extent of Russian military power
-and technical capacity. -Oh.
The same rocket that launched this satellite
is capable of firing a nuclear warhead
into enemy territory with pinpoint accuracy.
-Wow. -[Macmillan] Imagine the effect
this will have on the Americans.
A great crisis of self-doubt, if I'm not very much mistaken.
We must seize this opportunity to help the Americans
and work together in a joint effort to meet the Russian threat.
That is the way to repair Anglo-American relations, which, as you know,
have deteriorated terribly due to the Suez Crisis.
Quite. You know, after the war they said Eisen--
[Macmillan] I am absolutely determined to restore the special relationship
that exists between our two countries.
We're bound by so much more than just language and shared history.
It's a kind of marriage.
As in any marriage, there'll be ups and downs,
but one must work to get things back on track.
They say that listening's important.
In any marriage.
[man on television] Does that mean that we can learn just as much
from this satellite as the Russians?
[birds chirping]
And how are we going to do this?
I think the driver should drop me first, then take you on to the station.
Or I could wait.
I don't think that would be wise.
Why? How long do you need with him?
A day. Maybe two.
It's the last time, I promise.
-Don't make promises you cannot keep. -[Dorothy] No.
I'm determined to end it. It's time.
-Now that you're Prime Minister. -Yes, it is.
[thunder crashing]
-[Beaton] With a one, two, three, flash. -[camera shutter clicks]
Oh, quite magnificent.
Why does it always have to be Cecil Beaton
-taking my official birthday portrait? -What's wrong with Cecil?
When it came out last year, everyone said how pretty you looked.
No, they said how much I looked like you.
Well, quite.
Cecil does just one thing: fairy tales.
Yes, but he does it so well.
And to me, Your Royal Highness.
A little less chin, and..
[camera shutter clicks]
What do you think?
I asked my new lady-in-waiting here today...
Your Majesty.
...to offer her opinion...
having at least one foot in the real world.
I think birthday portraits should evolve and mature with age.
Like the subject. Show change in the character. Complexity.
Reality.
No one wants complexity and reality from us.
-[Beaton laughs] -Do sit down.
People have enough of that in their own lives.
-They want us to help them escape. -Indeed, Your Majesty.
Imagine this, if you will...
a young woman, a commonplace creature. She sits in her drab little scullery.
So much work to do. So much washing-up.
How she longs for comfort, for hope.
-And again. One, two, three and flash. -[camera shutter clicks]
She wants to believe her life has some meaning beyond chores.
She opens a magazine and she sees Her Royal Highness's photograph.
For one glorious, transforming moment, she becomes a princess, too.
She is lifted out of her miserable, pitiful reality into a fantasy.
Later, she will step out of her house
in a new neckerchief, perhaps, for which she has saved.
Oh, she will hold her head up high. She is renewed.
And all thanks to you, Your Royal Highness...
and to the ideal which you represent.
And now, with a one, two, three and flash.
Quite marvelous.
♪ Ding-dong, the bells are ringing ♪
[chattering]
♪ Ding-dong, the bells are ringing For you and I ♪
[man] It's good news all round.
♪ Ding-dong, the bells are ringing ♪
[man laughing]
[chattering]
In the 20 or so years we have known the hapless, misshapen crane
that is Billy Wallace, has any woman ever looked at him as an object of desire?
I mean, even remotely?
[snickers]
Certainly not.
Then how can one begin to explain that?
-[women giggling] -[Billy speaking indistinctly]
Ma'am, Lord Blandford just telephoned to apologize
and say that Mr. Wallace may be indisposed this evening.
He can't be indisposed. We're announcing our engagement.
Something about an injury. Rather a serious injury.
-Where is he? -[man] Your Highness.
Uh...
Her Royal Highness, Princess Margaret.
-[Margaret] Out of my way. -Oh, shit.
[doctor] No, you must keep your leg up, sir.
Billy?
It's all right, Simpson.
Well, what's going on? It's our announcement this evening.
[door closes]
Unforeseen circs, I'm afraid. Rather a dust-up in the early hours.
Are you drunk?
Don't be like that. I had to do something for the pain.
-Well, what happened? -[Billy] Wait till you hear.
You'll laugh till you spit.
Your friend Tennant rather took offense at something I did.
You came to blows with Colin?
I believe the word "duel" was mentioned.
A duel?
[Billy] Tennant issued the challenge.
A little childish in this day and age if you ask me,
but a duel is a duel, so I stepped up to the mark.
[Billy whimpering]
That's what a gentleman does.
No!
[sighs]
[Billy] If I'm completely honest, a little drink had been taken during the night.
But we faced the dawn with clear heads and strong hearts.
[sniveling]
Now, Tennant wanted to motor up to Glen to get his father's old pistols.
It would've been quite ridiculous. Much too far away.
So, Blandford offered his.
[Billy sniveling] It was a bloody stupid mistake.
A duel is not just a test of marksmanship.
It's a test of character.
Ten paces.
One... two...
three... four...
five... six...
seven... eight... nine...
ten.
[guns fire]
Fucker shot me in the leg. Bloody awful thing.
Anyway, I survived with a small flesh wound.
And why was he angry with you?
It's the strangest thing, but ever since word got out about our engagement,
I've found myself quite the center of attention.
It's as though every good-looking girl on Earth
[laughs] has taken the news as a personal challenge.
I'm not used to the idea of being a beau, much less a catch.
Seems to have gone to my head rather.
-Had a bit of a fumble at Blenheim. -[sighs]
She was rather a beauty. She's in pictures, you know. An actress.
Anyway, Tennant got wind of it and got very cross.
Yes, with reason.
You pathetic, weak, contemptible fool.
I never even wanted to marry you. You were only ever an act of charity.
Or desperation.
And now you insult me? You?
People like you don't get to insult people like me. You get to be eternally grateful.
You've quite the way with women.
Take a look at this face. A picture of disappointment and disgust.
This is the look that every woman you ever know will come to share.
This is what the next 40 years of your life will look like.
Margaret...
-[door opens] -Margaret!
-[footsteps] -Shit!
[chattering]
Ma'am, I've been asked to tell you
that Princess Margaret will not be announcing the engagement this evening.
Her Royal Highness said she'll explain everything later.
Yes, I'm sure she will. Thank you, Michael.
[Adeane] Thank you, ma'am.
[guests laughing]
All right, all right, settle down.
So on my recent tour of the Pacific, I was introduced to a man who said to me,
"My wife is a doctor of philosophy and much more important than I am."
[laughs]
To which I could only reply,
"Ah, yes, sir, we have that trouble in our family too."
[all laughing]
You know, when I imagined our marriage in the early days,
I imagined two people welded together into some sort of combined existence.
Ten years. Ten years has taught me the secret of a successful marriage
is actually to have different interests.
Well, different interests, but not entirely different.
[all laughing]
It's a funny business.
One sees the whole of the other person, you see even that part of them
that they don't see themselves,
and presumably... they see that hidden part of you.
One ends up knowing more about one's partner than they know about themselves.
And it can be pretty tough to keep quiet about it. So you have to...
You have to come to an accommodation,
an arrangement, a deal... if you like,
to take the rough with the smooth.
But the extraordinary thing is...
down there in the rough...
in the long reeds of difficulty and pain...
that is where you find the treasure.
So I would like to propose a toast...
in the name of love.
In the name of our beloved country.
In the name of steadfastness.
In the name of another ten marvelous years.
I give you mon petit chou...
Lilibet...
Elizabeth...
the Queen.
[all] The Queen!
[hands thudding]
[clapping]
[Ella Fitzgerald's "Angel Eyes" playing loudly]
[banging]
[woman laughs]
[banging]
♪ You happy people ♪
♪ The laugh's and the joke's on me ♪
♪ Pardon me ♪
♪ But I've got to run ♪
♪ The fact's uncommonly clear ♪
♪ Got to find... ♪
[humming]
♪ Who's now number one ♪
-[crashing] -[Margaret grunts]
♪ And why my angel eyes ♪
[Margaret grunting]
♪ Where ♪
[screams]
♪ Is my angel eyes? ♪
[moaning and sobbing]
♪ Excuse me ♪
♪ While I disappear ♪
♪ Angel eyes ♪
[radio tuning]
[man on radio] We're sending you to the newsroom at Alexandra Palace.
President Eisenhower has spoken warmly of the special relationship
that exists between Britain and the United States.
[Eisenhower on radio] Prime Minister Macmillan and I will do everything we can
to strengthen and repair the long-term bonds which have bound together the...
[Dorothy whispering] But I can't. I can't.
I want only you.
I've tried again with Harold. Tried and tried.
I know, I know.
I just can't. I can't have him touch me, be near me.
His weakness repels me.
His love disgusts me.
[exhales]
Good morning!
Oh, darling, what a mess. [laughs]
It is the most beautiful day.
I've brought something to cheer you up.
Cecil's magnificent work.
He's quite outdone himself this time.
I can tell you which one I would choose as the official birthday portrait,
and Cecil immediately agreed.
But of course, it's for you to decide.
And with regards to Billy Wallace--
Don't mention that name.
I've had him on the telephone to me all morning,
quite distraught.
-Then his mother, then his grandmother-- -I'm never speaking to him again.
Then we will find you someone else.
I don't want you to find me anyone.
Maurice Landgrave of Hesse.
-[Margaret sighs] -He's a distant cousin.
Now his mother was a Catholic, but their lands are still intact,
and he gives a very good show of himself on the polo field--
No one!
Someone suggested Prince Christian of Hanover,
a descendant of Queen Victoria.
Served in the Luftwaffe, but we won't hold that against him.
I do know what the official duties of a lady-in-waiting are.
Accompanying me on foreign trips, dealing with my mail.
Do you suppose it might also include helping me climb over the wall to escape?
I just can't bear it anymore.
I'm having some people to dinner, tonight.
What, normal people?
[Cavendish] Yes, they're all normal.
But in their own way, they're all quite exceptional, too.
[Margaret] You can go.
[Cavendish] And possibly not deferential.
[Margaret] That's fine. As long as they still meet the main requirements.
Which are?
That none of them breeds horses, owns land... or knows my mother.
[guests chattering]
[jazz music playing]
All right, all of you.
-Hello. -[tapping glass]
Everyone.
I'd like you to say hello to our guest of honor,
Her Royal Highness, the Princess Margaret.
[all] Hello.
Are you ready, ma'am? Here come the introductions.
Here we have Dudley on the piano.
-[Dudley plays piano] -[guests laughing]
And this here is Shilpa.
[guests chattering]
[man] Feeling a little left out... and you're thinking to yourself, [sighs]
"These dabblers and freaks seem to know one another very well."
Hmm?
Then you'd be absolutely right.
Now, be honest.
Can you remember any of the names?
No, not really.
Can't remember me either?
What, we've met?
We have.
Where have we met?
Perhaps it'll come to you.
Now, where to begin...
Ah. Far corner.
The irresistible so-and-so with the mustard-colored polo neck.
-Irresistible? -Oh, come on, a nine, surely?
Seven.
He's called Jeremy, he's heir to a chocolate fortune.
Married to the blonde beauty opposite.
-Oh, she's an eight. -Isn't she?
Yes, they dazzle in public, those two.
They don't disappoint in private either. More of that another time, I think.
Who's next?
Ah, yes. Our flushed and fleshy friend in paisley.
His name's Ken Russell, makes documentaries for the BBC.
Travels everywhere on a bus.
You've probably never been on a bus, have you?
-No. -Pity.
You really do meet the best people.
Tell me about the woman with the... extraordinary eyes.
Baroness Frankenstein.
She played opposite Boris Karloff in that movie, you know. Actress.
-Oh. -No one can quite make out
why she left a rather brilliant film producer
for a dreary politician.
-Oh. -His name's John Profumo.
-Fucking dull. -[Margaret laughs]
-It's true, it's true. But... -[Margaret laughs]
the older gentleman beside him...
Oh, no, no, no. I know who that one is. That's John Betjeman, the poet.
Um...
"Books from Boots' and country lanes, Free speech, free passes...
-[both] Class distinction. -[Margaret laughs]
Distinction.
-Democracy... -Democracy...
[both] and proper drains."
Just so.
Is it really true he has two wives? [laughs]
I hope so.
Better if he has three.
We don't want anyone conventional around here.
[women laughing and chattering]
Now, tell me about you.
-Oh, God, you really don't remember. -No.
Hm. I'm a photographer.
Oh, the wedding photographer?
Ah, that was a favor. That's not my normal line of work.
What is?
This.
Ah.
-What, these are yours? -Yes. [exhales]
Portraits?
Mm, I don't like that word. It's so stuffy and traditional.
Oh, sorry. What are they, then?
Mm, people, faces. They're the most interesting subject I've found so far.
If you can think of anything more interesting, do let me know.
Oh, I like them.
It's as if there's no camera at all. You've caught them off guard.
-Ah, it's all luck, really. -You've made the ugliness beautiful.
I despise posturing and pretentiousness and humbug.
Don't you?
Is that why you took up photography?
Maybe.
Maybe it's just a good way to get behind closed doors.
-[Margaret] Somebody's door in particular? -Just doors generally.
A facade is only useful as a marker
for something one has to get behind or beyond.
The surface is so dreary, don't you think? What people want to show of themselves,
the idealized version, is of no interest to me.
What people hide... that interests me.
But you get so close.
Isn't it rather an intrusion?
It's very much an intrusion, yes. That's exactly what photography is.
I use a small Leica, nothing fancy,
and natural light, which means that I can prowl around.
All the while I'm getting closer and closer,
and in the end, it's kind of like...
-Well, it's, uh... -Intrusion.
Intimacy.
[jazz music playing]
[Margaret] How would you feel about taking my photograph?
[Tony] Well, I'd consider it.
On one condition.
-Go on. -When you come to my slum studio,
you leave the titles and princess outside.
-[scoffs] I'd be happy to. -And for the duration of the session,
you do everything I say.
Don't look like that.
You're dying to, admit it.
Dying to what?
Be a supplicant.
I can tell.
[Margaret] It was the first room I've ever been to where nobody got up,
bowed, curtsied.
Some just carried on having conversations, as if I wasn't there at all.
Those that did talk to me did with such indifference
or nonchalance, it verged on impertinence.
There was this one in particular.
-Tony. -Anthony, surely?
[Margaret] No, he insisted.
Tony. Armstrong-Jones. He's this photographer.
-Like Cecil? -Oh, no, nothing like Cecil.
Couldn't be less like Cecil.
Well, maybe a bit like Cecil, in that he's obviously queer.
Though interestingly, Elizabeth denies it.
Elizabeth who?
Cavendish. I called her when I got home last night and interrogated her.
"What are the five most important things I need to know about that man?"
-Why five? -I don't know. Felt like the right number.
-[Elizabeth] Why not three? -He's more interesting than three.
[Elizabeth] So, what did she say?
One, that he's Welsh.
-Is that interesting? -[Margaret] No, not particularly.
That he had polio as a child.
That he has a passion for inventing things.
And he would never dream of being anything as straightforward
as "simply queer."
What on earth does that mean?
I'm not altogether sure.
But I'm also not incurious to find out.
[Elizabeth] What was number five?
[Margaret] You can go.
-That was five. -[Elizabeth] No, Margaret, that was four.
[Margaret] All right. Five is...
I liked him.
Yes, I can tell that.
-There's a contempt in him. -What for?
For me. For us.
For everything we represent.
I actually think you'd like him.
That's what's so dangerous about him.
[Tony] Upstairs.
[footsteps approaching]
[exhales]
[Tony] Right.
Wait there.
[Tony whistling]
Back in a minute.
[banging]
[floorboards creaking]
[banging]
[footsteps]
[exhales]
[wheels rattling]
[loud banging]
[sighs]
[camera winding]
[Margaret exhales]
[camera clicking, winding]
[camera shutter clicks]
Don't smile like that.
It's lovely, but don't.
-Too lovely? -[camera winding]
-For my taste, yes. -Oh, I see.
-[camera shutter clicks] -You'd prefer me to be unlovely?
[camera winding]
I'd prefer you to be yourself. Though I realize that's asking the impossible.
Why?
Because I'm uncooperative?
-Because you have no idea who you are. -[camera shutter clicks]
-Look to the window. -[camera winding]
-I know perfectly well. -No, not the faintest idea.
Window.
[camera shutter clicks]
We don't know who you are, either.
The rest of us, outside the palace gates.
That's because we keep feeding you the fairy tale.
[camera shutter clicks]
[camera winding]
Like this.
Ah.
Jesus.
I'm sorry, but, uh...
[photo falls]
Cecil is a disgrace.
Well, he's been good to the family.
Why would you care about the family?
Have they been good to you?
They're my family.
Yes.
[camera shutter clicks]
[camera winding]
But that business with Peter Townsend.
Cruel.
Was he really as dreary as he seemed?
[camera shutter clicks]
-[camera winding] -He was decent and old-fashioned.
Easy qualities to mock.
[camera shutter clicks]
[camera winding]
Easy to miss, too.
Do you miss him?
Sometimes.
[camera shutter clicks]
[Tony] Got it. Right. Back to my place for a drink?
[Margaret exhales]
-Your place? Where's that? -Well, get dressed and I'll show you.
[sighs]
[Tony whistling]
[footsteps approaching]
So, this is... home.
Oh, it's marvelous.
-[Tony] Whiskey or Cinzano? -Whiskey, please.
[glasses clink]
[whiskey pouring]
Who's she?
-[Tony] A friend. -What kind of friend?
A friend.
And this one? Ooh. Couldn't you have cheered her up a little?
That's Sarah Macmillan, the Prime Minister's daughter.
Or is she?
Word is not.
-That she's Bob Boothby's love child. -No.
Mm. Thirty years they say the affair's been going on,
right under the PM's nose. Can you imagine?
I don't think I'm ever going to get married.
Quite right.
Ghastly business.
It makes being happy so very difficult.
Oh, what's this?
Oh, it's something I'm working on. A design.
It's fragile, get off.
Mm, sorry.
[Tony chuckles]
Here, come and have a look at this. This might amuse you.
-What, people have signed their names? -Well, their nicknames, yes.
-Who's Tigger? -Cleo Laine.
-Snitch? -Dirk Bogarde.
[gasps] Oh, look. You already have a princess.
[Tony] Mm.
That's Tony Richardson.
Will you sign?
I keep a diamond for the purpose.
Go on.
I'm not sure I've ever had a nickname.
What shall I put?
Something that'll throw them off the scent.
Beryl.
-Beryl? -Mm.
All right.
It rhymes with peril.
Put it back.
Right.
-Shall we look at the photograph? -Yes.
[clicks]
Right.
First...
the chemicals.
-[Margaret] You know, when we first met... -Mm?
...I was sure you were queer.
Why?
Just the way you talked to women.
Understood women.
Then you put it into the water.
-Here? -Mm-hmm.
Not to mention your tidy little hips, your vanity and fastidiousness.
I'm not vain.
You're insufferably vain.
But now I see you're not queer.
Then you put it into the fixer.
This whole routine is far too practiced and well oiled.
Woman after woman has been here before me.
Beautiful women.
[Tony] Mm-hmm.
Then...
we hang her up.
What do you think?
It's a Margaret I've never seen before.
-No one's ever seen before. -No.
Because in this photo, you're not a princess anymore.
There's someone I would like you to send it to.
Can I give you an address?
Sure.
-Then I must go. -Mm.
You, um...
You won't stay a little longer?
No.
This is where the routine ends.
For now.
All right.
Did you come with a driver?
[Margaret] Yes, he's waiting outside.
Good. Then he can follow us.
[speaking Malaysian]
[interpreter] We are most honored to have been guests
-in Your Majesty's beautiful home. -Ah.
[speaking Malaysian]
[motorcycle revving]
Hold tight.
-[tires screeching] -[horn honks]
-[Elizabeth] Thank you so much for coming. -[Philip] It's been a pleasure.
Thank you very much.
-God, I thought that would never end. -Yes, it did go on rather.
-On and on and on and on. -[Elizabeth] Mm.
Definitely not queer.
Keep it.
[The Flamingos' "I Only Have Eyes For You" playing]
[exhales]
♪ My love must be a kind of blind love ♪
♪ I can't see anyone but you ♪
♪ Sha bop, sha bop ♪
[exhales]
♪ Sha bop, sha bop ♪
-♪ Are the stars out tonight? ♪ -♪ Sha bop, sha bop ♪
♪ Sha bop, sha bop ♪
-♪ I don't know if it's cloudy or bright ♪ -♪ Sha bop, sha bop ♪
♪ I only have eyes ♪
♪ For you ♪
♪ Dear ♪
♪ Sha bop, sha bop ♪
-♪ The moon may be high ♪ -♪ Sha bop, sha bop ♪
[sighs deeply]
-♪ But I can't see a thing in the sky ♪ -♪ Sha bop, sha bop ♪
♪ I only have eyes ♪
♪ For you ♪
♪ I don't know if ♪
♪ We're in a garden ♪
♪ Or on a crowded ♪
♪ Avenue ♪
♪ Sha bop, sha bop ♪
♪ You are here ♪
Night.
Goodnight.
♪ And so am I ♪
♪ Sha bop, sha bop ♪
-♪ Maybe millions of people go by ♪ -♪ Sha bop, sha bop ♪
♪ But they all disappear ♪
♪ From view ♪
♪ And I only have eyes ♪
[exhales]
-♪ For you ♪ -♪ Sha bop, sha bop ♪
[Macmillan] Good gracious!
♪ Sha bop, sha bop ♪
Oh là là!
[chuckling]
Mm-mm.
[typewriter pings]
[typewriter clicking]
[groans]
[curtains opening]
-There you are. -Finally.
-Oh, I say. -What is it?
It appears she's--
Naked.
Yes.
[Philip chuckles]