It came three years ago.
There are hundreds of unique,
inexplicable afflictions.
You're declaring the Touched a direct threat
against the empire.
Mrs. True runs the orphanage.
Plenty of girls have been shown a strangeness.
We've come to help.
Detective Mundy, you're gonna wanna see this.
- What, me? - With your pagan sex club.
With a certain investor, The Ferryman's Club will become a phenomenon.
Who's hunting the Touched, and why?
How are we gonna deal with those fellas?
We're going to the opera.
Just let me have the girl.
Just let me have the girl...
We find Mary. We get her singin'.
All of the Touched, they'll all come to us.
The Touched are everywhere.
The whole city's talking about it.
The newspapers make money by frightening people.
There cannot be so many of them.
But how are we knowing?
They look normal.
And anyhow, I wouldn't hate to be Touched.
- Oh, don't, don't... - No, not like the Maladie,
but with a nice, um, a "turn"?
Make silk from cotton.
Or to make Danny Kent fall in love to you.
You promised not to say anything.
And it's fall in love "with" me.
Fall for, fall in love with, make love to...
I think love confuses the English.
_
Oh.
Your gloves, Miss Cassini.
- They are clean. - Oh.
But no longer white.
Oh, yes. And rather threadbare.
Jones & Jackson only provide the first pair, you know.
I am saving up.
Yes.
A few nights off the beef and pudding,
help your appearance altogether.
Although there is a little café
on the Dalton Lane, if you...
This is too gay. I'd like to look at something more autumnal.
The city is in mourning, you know.
- Since the massacre? - Of course. Of course.
Miss Cassini.
The feathers.
Oh!
Oh, my God. She's Touched!
She's one of them.
- That girl's Touched. - That one!
Stay there, Miss Cassini.
Miss Cassini! Stay right there.
Stop her! Ooh!
- Stop her! - What's going on?
_
Right, let's go, boys!
Stand back! Get out of the way!
Out of the way!
Get out of the way. Get up.
Everyone out!
Check the workshop!
Did you wipe your feet?
Everyone just stay calm.
- These men have been horrid. - Whoa.
- Oh, Primrose! - What's happening?
They were looking at my underthings.
And what do they expect to find there?
You Amalia True?
Why are your men looking through a young lady's personals?
It's common practice among criminals to hide things
where a decent person wouldn't look.
You're not among criminals, Mister...
Inspector Mundi. Scotland Yard.
I have a warrant to search the premises,
and I'll need the workshop outside unlocked.
Frankie Mundi.
You're the one likes knocking suspects about.
Even though they's as innocent as Christmas.
What do they do to set you off?
They call me "Frankie."
We occupy three adjoining properties.
This applies only to The Orphanage. Not to the workshop.
Shall we speak apart?
- Do you need me? - We're all right.
You're with the Special Detail hunting Maladie.
Since you're here, I can assume you're no closer to finding her.
She disappeared from under the opera house,
as did you.
I tried to stop her. I failed.
I didn't much feel like talking about it.
Or retrieving your gown.
It got caught on something.
Like Cinderella's shoe.
Please tell me you've been trying it on every girl in the kingdom
to see who it fits.
Do you often engage in public violence, Mrs. True?
Would you give over violence?
She put her life at risk to save dozens of others.
She handed you one of Maladie's gang.
The great big rifleman.
And followed Maladie out,
without surprise.
Or natural feminine restraint.
We have this from a reliable witness.
Would that be the man with his cock out?
Probably.
Is Lord Swann implying I'm in the gang?
With Bonfire Annie nearly settin' her hair ablaze?
I prefer to talk to Mrs. True alone.
So would I.
Do you know...
Mary Brighton?
Then how come you tried to save her?
I suspected no one else would.
- Is Mary like you? - Violent?
Touched.
You don't want her to be.
Inspector, she is Touched, but I can assure you,
she is nothing like me. She's wonderful.
- How are you not wonderful? - What's her "turn"?
I thought you were after Maladie.
We all want Miss Brighton safe.
- Work with us... - Our men will find Maladie.
In Primrose's drawers?
What is Mary's "turn"?
Ladies, do not speak another word.
This loathsome charade is over.
Miss Bidlow. I'm here on a warrant,
signed by Judge Ditton...
The commissioner of police was shocked to hear
that Judge Ditton had overstepped so egregiously.
He seemed confident, however, that neither you nor your men
would bear the brunt of the blame.
- Mrs. True. - Inspector.
Arigato.
- How did you know the police... - I had rather expected it.
I was surprised it took them all of two days.
Did they really think we had Maladie
sleepin' in a sock drawer?
Three of the Touched declared war on society.
Right now, every one of us... of you... is suspect.
Lucy Best can break things by touching them.
- Primrose Chattoway... - Primrose is a child,
and meek as a kitten.
When a kitten reaches 10 feet, you call it a tiger.
I shouldn't have to explain this to you.
So who set the police on us?
Inspector Mundi clearly has a personal interest in Mary Brighton.
He couldn't have authorized it himself.
The superintendent was pressured from above.
But he wouldn't tell me by whom.
What about Lord Massen?
I didn't realize when we met what a... name he was.
"A voice of conservative Parliament."
Anti-union, anti-Suffragism, anti-Belgian...
Gilbert Massen and I agree on almost nothing.
It is the bedrock of our friendship.
But he's never mentioned my work here.
Although, after Maladie's debut...
Any luck tracking her down?
I have people looking.
I'd prefer to be one of them.
Well, I'm here on a different mission.
Not for you, but for Miss Adair.
There is, in my circle, a monthly charitable fete.
There are philanthropists, lecturers...
The best families attend.
Men of influence, with wives of actual influence.
This afternoon, it's to be at my estate.
I thought everyone was in a panic.
It's society.
Doing nothing is how we panic.
And it presents a good opportunity to put a pleasing face
on London's new bogeyman.
A few attractive girls showing off their "turns,"
and their good manners, to society's elite.
It may seem trite to you,
but public opinion is a brush fire.
And we must come to them to stop them barging in on us.
She's right.
Besides, it's a party.
Bring a few of your charges to my estate,
no later than 2:00.
I assume your estate is quite large, then?
I suppose.
Good. 'Cause I'll be bringing the tiger.
General Pecking wants to make it a military matter.
Have the infantry patrolling the city.
I'm exhausted by the ways that would go wrong.
At least the public would...
This is not about saving face.
Maladie has done us a favor.
She turned sentiment against the Touched,
but keeps attention on herself.
And the rest of the group are firmly with you now.
No one doubts we're under attack.
The House is going to nominate
a special committee on the Touched,
which after careful vetting, will be us.
Prime Minister's going to move the motion himself.
Good for him.
How many nephews did we have to hire?
Two.
I'll keep a statement on the shooting vague
and wrothful.
No mention of Amalia True.
Of course not.
Mrs. True made more of an impression on you
than Maladie did.
Do you think she's at the root
of our feminine plague?
Or in league with whoever is?
I don't know.
But she's not a fool.
And she's not a fucking baker.
Swann.
Lord Massen.
You're up early.
I can leave my coffin by day, if the smog's thick enough.
You haven't read it?
The Irishman, Bram Stoker.
It's a clever epistolary fantasia,
- all about... - I heard an ugly rumor the other day.
Well, all rumors are ugly, Massen.
No one whispers about virtue.
You're turning your Ferryman's Club
into an actual business.
Oh, this is awkward. Uh...
I'm afraid there's already a waiting list.
- But if you like... - And you have,
among your entertainers, a few of the afflicted.
They're all in excellent health.
But thank you for the concern.
I realize that the unsavory antics
at your loathsome soirées
may have given you leverage over several in our circle,
but you cannot think to operate in a public arena.
Especially with the Touched.
Well, there's no law against them.
There's been a massacre, Swann.
Society will not abide your pandering, if it thinks that...
Requests for membership to the Ferryman's
have doubled since the opera.
Horror and fascination go arm in arm.
You should have read the Stoker.
If your father were to learn
- that you... - My father approved of the whole venture.
And then he put a jam roll in his pocket,
and went looking for his childhood dog.
I should warn you... I play a lot of squash.
Alastair Swann had one of the finest minds in England.
To make light of its tragic dissolution is beneath even you.
Oh, I remember his fine mind.
And his fine fists.
I may not be the fighter my brother was,
but I've had my lessons.
The Ferryman's opens tonight.
And as for the Touched,
well, they have a right to earn a living.
I doubt even you can change that.
I used to think your father's mind went to field
because your brother Caleb drowned.
More likely, it's because...
you didn't.
Well, I assure you, you're about to.
Harriet.
Aye. Her "turn's" charming.
Myrtle. Primrose never goes out.
Shy about her stature.
- Myrtle calms her. - All right.
- Wendy? - Bendy Wendy.
That's a rotten thing to...
No, it, it's, it's fair. And it rhymes.
I suppose her contorting's a bit...
- Alarming? - ...intimate for mixed company.
Lucy.
I'm not ruling out another attack,
especially with Myrtle in the mix.
I'm sure Lavinia has security, but Lucy's ours.
Do you ever wonder why Miss Bidlow
started The Orphanage that she's never comfortable in?
I'm not sure she's comfortable anywhere.
She didn't pick this cause out of a hat.
She knows what it's like to be dismissed.
Couple of new things,
in case you find Maladie before we're back from Lavinia's party.
- Think someone already invented these. - Mmm.
I'm hoping they'll work
against Maladie's awful eye glow. Can't say, but...
Until we understand her "turn," it can't hurt.
Besides, these are wonderful.
Now this is for Bonfire Annie.
She gets all fired up,
she gets this.
Oh!
Evildoers beware.
It's, it's only a prototype.
Elisabetta!
_
She's in here!
In the back!
- She's getting away! - Come on!
Between demonstrations, you are free to move about.
Mingle, but don't put yourselves forward.
Miss Chattoway, I think you will be best served
to stay by the stairs, so as not to...
overwhelm.
Of course, all your "turns" will be used to minimal effect.
The mission is to amuse. Not alarm.
I know we'll make a good impression.
I have every faith.
You'll also be wearing these.
So people can comfortably identify you.
- Excuse me. - Oh.
This doesn't go with my dress at all.
Right.
There we go.
Right. Let me look at you.
Morning.
Is this where the strange women go?
And we'll need a room of our own.
- I'm sorry, Miss... - Désirée.
Désirée Blodgett.
I usually just go by the first name,
if you're wondering where you've heard of me.
I haven't.
Désirée, Diva of Desire.
No? Well, I'm a whore.
A bit renowned. I've cultivated an impressive clientèle.
Especially given that I'm not exactly Mitzi Dalti, am I?
Men.
They like talking to me.
It's part of the job, sure, listening,
but last few years, I get more and more clients.
Men of stature. Real flash.
And while we fuck... Oh... Nigel!
Hat!
Anyway, while we fuck, they all gotta talk.
You know? Things they done, or want, or mean to do,
and they ain't exactly priests. Well, a couple.
But they feel so relieved gettin' it all out.
Except now, they're not so relieved.
Me hearing everything from everyone.
And yesternight, I find out that one of me regulars...
the sweetest little man... is planning on having me killed.
- How do you know? - He told me.
During.
Crying so hard I thought he was gonna propose.
They do sometimes.
And you have information on these men?
Oh, fuck, no. I can't remember a word.
I just need a place for me and Nige till the heat's come off.
Who sent you?
It's just, you're here at a delicate time,
and I'm curious who said to come.
Uh, my friend. Well, he's a client.
I mean, we all talk about this place.
Which client, exactly?
I'd rather not say.
And I don't remember?
- Do they think I'm an idiot? - They?
We've just been raided,
and you come here to get away from "the heat."
It doesn't really make sense, does it?
Though these days, what does? I am an idiot.
I'm trying to find someone the Beggar King can't trace
by looking at fucking street plans.
I'm not from here.
And everyone wants to see. The cops,
Bidlow's bridge cronies. Now you.
So friendly. On the run.
The kid's a bit much, but I like the commitment.
And Maladie's got no idea what Mary's "turn" can do.
Mary is the voice of the Galan...
Oh.
Huh.
- It's not just men. - No.
I'm sorry, you was very worked up,
and that's when my "turn" works on people.
- When they're upset. - Put on your coat.
Oh, just a couple of nights. Please.
I forget everything, personal guarantee,
and Nigel don't speak ever.
- I'm begging you... - Put on your coat.
Why are you leaning on us?
She was fucking Touched. She was attacking us.
She made me lonely.
With her mind.
Wasn't her mind you was grabbin' at, was it?
It's just not good enough, is it?
Mundi. Two lovely ladies to see you.
I'm off to drink lunch. Come in.
Mrs. True.
I hope this means you have something useful to say.
That depends.
Do you feel like talking?
I feel like talking about you
spendin' a week in a cell.
Who's in the picture with Mary?
So, so you're the detective now?
Yeah. All right. It's me.
It's over. It's half a year since I seen her.
The lads thought Maladie might have taken Mary 'cause of me,
- but... - It wasn't you.
But you still feel responsible for Mary.
Still have that picture.
Did she call it off?
What, you, you, you think I'd tell you that?
Just trot out me personal affairs, yeah?
What, give me a whack 'round the face,
and I'll paint you a picture of me last summer,
standing at the altar with a flower in me button hole,
and no fucking bride.
Mmm? Engaged for more than a year.
But she waits, she waits till me whole family's...
Oh, no, no, no. Don't you judge her, though.
Don't you judge her. Mary is a kind, caring woman.
She's just...
Oh, Christ, I wouldn't... I wouldn't marry me, either.
Yeah, she... Mary knew.
She knew the job would take the toll,
but there's worse things.
- Yeah, there's things you... - Stop.
Please. Stop.
Don't make me take that away from you.
Fuck did she just do to me?
I'm going to find Maladie.
I've seen it happening.
What I don't know is if I find her
before or after Mary's dead.
I needed to be sure you care more about saving Mary
than catching Maladie.
'Cause I'll bet you that bullet your orders say different.
You Touched...
You're worse than the fucking toffs.
The order is to eliminate Maladie at any cost.
No matter who gets hurt. You win a bullet.
Mary dies...
you win six.
A song.
That's Mary's "turn."
A song only the Touched can hear.
What's it about?
Hope.
I want to hear it.
You sang for Maladie. Now sing for me.
If you sing, and I hear it,
it means I'm finally Touched.
It means I'm worthy.
I can't.
And you're not.
Oh, Miss High and Mighty.
I'm working for my "turn."
Sacrifice.
You know?
I sacrificed my little toe.
But that wasn't enough.
But every inch is an inch closer to being...
Gifted by God.
Mmm. Chattering magpies, while I do all the work.
Well, as it happens,
we did have some turkey left over.
None for me, Colonel?
- Hey! - Aah!
Maladie said not to play with this one.
She never said that.
You're not a believer, anyway.
You're just hired...
Bonfire Annie.
As it happens, Clara, we're late for church.
You're lucky we're late for church.
- Are we late for church? - Yes.
Psst. Annie.
We missed you.
We've got the name.
Mrs. Amalia True. And the address.
What good's an address?
In terms of arson, it's fairly crucial.
Yeah, but I'm not looking for her. I'm looking for her.
The entire of her. The fuckin' soul, eh?
Get me something I could shake at her.
A dolly. A pretty dolly.
All of London looking for us, and you want me to...
Well, wear a fuckin' bonnet!
No! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.
Don't be cross, eh?
We'll do a proper job after this, yeah?
Yeah?
I don't mind crazy, boss.
I can't work with stupid.
Oh...
Now then... why'd you sing?
I'm...
- I'm not sure. - T'other night.
Pretty ditty, eh?
Why?
I was afraid more people would get hurt.
It comes when I'm afraid. When I'm sad.
The song. It...
It... it helps.
I knew that you would hear it,
and maybe...
It might be a reassurance.
A sense that you needn't act only from pain.
No. I just meant...
have you always wanted to be in the theater?
We had such a lovely time there.
Of course, my father is much called away by his work.
They're in Zurich for the season.
Your mother has found a very cunning tailor, dear.
Vernal lace. Hard to find by the yard.
Oh, it's not yards.
Do we smile, or...
perhaps?
Don't be an ass, Carl.
Miss Adair.
Mr. Bidlow.
Miss Adair. Oh, no. I, I just, I said that. Um...
It's good of you to come.
Excuse me. Uh, Augustus Bidlow, Lucy Best.
Augie. Very kind to meet you.
It's a thrill, ain't it?
It's... it's a lovely broach.
Elephant.
Penance made it for me.
'Memorate my mum.
She ran with the Forty Elephants back in the day.
The gang?
Oh. How enterprising...
- Did you have something you... - Uh, uh... T-There are some paintings
- that I thought... - From when I said how I like...
- paintings. - Paintings. Yes, yes.
Uh, next room. Yes, yes.
Toff.
Oh, excuse me, sir. Do you know Vickers Square?
Why don't you try Italy?
So... Should I be wearing one of those ribbons?
Should we?
Hmm.
Did you know? Before the opera?
Uh, not...
I mean, I've had moments, where...
You see, I've always been keen on birds, you know.
Like, um, particularly corvids.
That's crows and magpies and jays.
Do you know, they are often overlooked,
'cause people think they're plain. Or, um...
Sorry.
I dreamt I was a crow.
A few times.
My, my, my wings out, just...
soaring over the countryside.
And then it happened when I wasn't asleep.
In, um... church.
Oh, dear.
- It was a very dull sermon. - I get so mad when they're dull.
You've got all the scripture and you can't spin a tale.
Exactly.
Yes. But I...
I didn't nod off. I just... I was in the pew,
and then suddenly I was also in the sky.
Just racing over hills and forests, and...
And I was controlling it.
Left and right.
Have you ever... Sorry.
Is that how it works? I don't...
Well, there's no two people who have the same "turn." It...
Right.
But, um...
It's a feminine trait, isn't it?
Oh, there's men that have it.
So where does it lead?
What if I'm soaring about every Sunday to come?
What if it happens,
and I can't come back?
I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
Um, I didn't, um... I just thought
if you're up there, then pity the poor magpie
that would be stuck listening to that sermon.
Oh!
Oh, no. No.
Dear. So cruel. Poor bird.
I am a monster.
You know you're not, though.
I don't...
- I mean, a person doesn't... - How does it feel?
To fly?
It feels like flying.
Hey. You there. Girl.
You one of them?
Now you brush right off, young man.
Come on in.
Aw, you've had a time of it, haven't you?
- We'll get you some tea. - Thank you.
Well, I sang pretty much anywhere. Um...
But some of the pubs were pretty grim.
But this bloke said that he'd put me on the stage, and...
for once, that's what he meant.
Yeah, but it's not workin' out.
What?
You're a little fuckin' old
to be stuffed back in the chorus.
Brayin' in time with nine girls nine years your junior.
Eh? All... all this...
And never the brio to make yourself heard.
What hobbled you?
Were you harvested early, eh?
Uncle or pastor got you still green?
Hey. There is many a lass that never finds her voice then...
- What is it you're after? - Thorns!
All I see is a crown.
God made me see.
He made me remember the day He came.
Me alone.
How He sent His angels in their white smocks
to unhouse my flesh.
Teach me glorious pain.
And I thought I'd been chosen 'cause I was special.
My agony's made me special, but you...
You're nothing.
You're pleasant, and He fills your throat.
Lets you make my pain little.
- Don't you sing it! - I can't. I can't. I...
I can't feel it.
God, He mocks me with that song.
He mocks me, and He sends a demon after me.
Demon?
The woman who sheds her skin.
Oh, she's coming.
She wants His song.
But you don't. So why don't...
You could make her pay a ransom.
Look, my, my family, we have a little put by,
and you, you would, you would come out of it with a profit...
Then everyone gets what they want?
You fuckin' child.
I don't want what I want.
Go out in the world and show me this magical symmetry.
It's broken. It's designed to be broken.
Gears crushing gears. He means for this to hurt.
I don't know where my song comes from.
But God doesn't want us to hurt.
They say you shit when you hang.
So, these ripplings.
They let you see the future,
but you can't control when they come, or...
what you see, or why.
Every day's an adventure.
Can you change it? Can, can you...
see the beach, then go to the woods?
No.
So all you know is you're punching Maladie.
Do you feel anything?
Rage, or victory maybe, or failure?
Mostly I feel calm.
I know where I am in a fight.
It's one of the few times I do.
I know what you mean.
I don't get the part where you know what you mean.
I've had more experience with violence
than I would have liked.
Your late husband?
It doesn't...
It's, it's not pertinent,
unless it gives you an understanding of Maladie
we don't have.
Well, it's clear she was abused.
By a doctor, or doctors.
And probably as a child, as well.
The confusion of pain with pleasure...
the fierce religiosity.
Religious?
Uh, this is beyond blasphemy.
- She, she's mocking God. - No. She loves Him.
Fears Him.
Every powerful figure who ever made her afraid,
made her helpless...
they're her understanding of God.
She'd do anything to please Him.
How does Mary fit in?
I don't think she does.
Mary makes you feel love. Feel loved.
Which is terrifying.
For someone who...
Someone like her.
Maladie felt a power greater than pain.
Do you think Mary might cure her?
Is it ever that simple?
You see, people think the electricity is in the wire.
But it's everywhere. The air's thick with it,
and it, it moves. It circles.
And not just in the circuit, but all across the air.
It's like a murmuration.
Um, a great horde of birds.
They're all moving as one, and then suddenly...
Oh, I've seen that!
Oh, I could watch for hours,
- how they wheel about. - Penance?
Miss Adair,
some of the gentlemen have begun wagering on...
On whether Lucy can break the statue of Aphrodite in the garden.
Oh, no, no. Uh, please, I need to...
No, of course. Go. Go, go, go.
Go.
Oh. Uh... you're in here.
You were missed at the party.
Oh, well, that would be a first.
People saw you walking away with Miss Adair.
It was commented upon.
But they're our guests.
No, they're not our guests.
They are my charity.
I brought them here to help them.
To prove that the Touched are not a threat.
Yet you seem determined to prove that they are.
Miss Adair is every inch a lady.
She'd never overstep.
Is it every inch then?
You cannot complete a sentence without exposing yourself.
If the guests suspect that Miss Adair
has social ambitions, or is using a "turn"
to bewitch a weak-minded bachelor,
the reports of this event could be disastrous for us,
and possibly dangerous for her!
You always assume the worst of everybody.
They seldom disappoint.
I am at fault.
You've been acting oddly since the opera,
and I failed to notice why.
Well... all the murders...
There is a path that cannot be trodden.
A private indiscretion is one thing,
but you are not clever enough to keep a mistress.
And we cannot have a girl who is Touched,
and Irish, bear the Bidlow name.
If you regard Miss Adair,
you must think more of her reputation,
and less of her...
every inch.
I'd never go about breaking the Bidlow's precious things,
even for 50 quid.
You'd have to put it up to a hundred.
Oh, I don't think that's, um...
Oh, um...
There was never a danger.
Just your friends having a joke.
Yes.
I, I did... I did think of another,
um, example of how your blackbirds...
Miss Adair, I think we're all done.
Sorry?
Your girls.
Everybody's seen all your tricks, and...
I think they'd like to spend some time
without the entertainment.
Oh. Oh.
I enjoyed our conversation, but, um...
I'm neglecting my real friends, so... excuse me.
Um...
Do you mind if we go?
Prim's getting tired.
Yeah, I guess. Let's... yeah.
Why don't you scupper off?
Eh? We can get a ride home with Prim.
Go on.
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh!
That was German. Something with, with horses.
Sí, sí, ja.
Are these the murder scenes where the doctors were killed?
No. Where the gang holed up.
They move about at random.
Never the same place twice.
Warehouses. Church cellars.
Claridge's.
They kept the honeymoon suite for three weeks.
The Colonel's "turn" is to make you believe anything he says.
Kept telling the manager he was the Prince of Wales.
I might become an acolyte if that's how...
Something happen?
Not yet.
Is there a ladies' washroom nearby?
- Three confessions in a row? - It's called police work...
- Oh! - Inspector Mundi will come looking for me
in about 10 minutes.
Give him this. Tell him to keep his men quiet.
See you at home.
# Do you have a doll for sale #
# With hair so blond and skin so pale #
# I've got the ring, I've got the veil #
# I only need my doll #
You are a very special person.
You know why?
Neither do I.
I keep looking for that spark.
The Touch.
But darn it...
_
Maybe your darkness is part of her plan.
I mean His. But she's in on it.
We're silly. This will be unbearable.
Dr. Hague. You're wanted at the site.
Another change?
No.
- The boss is coming to see us. - Yeah, but I'm...
I've given you facts that I have.
How soon?
Wrong way, dear.
Find... Find me...
Find me inside me.
Can it be all... Can it be all...
You could have just put up signs.
Augustus Cyril Aspinal Bidlow.
Augustus was an emperor.
He conquered Egypt.
And he was never described as a weak-minded bachelor.
I've had a spot of brandy.
A spot? You've had the whole Dalmatian.
This is the finest party I've been to all day.
Well, what sort of sport do we think
would suit you, chum? Hmm?
- I... - Greta over there can make both of her...
Oh, look. Look. She's doing it now.
Oh...
She's... Touched.
By greatness, I'd say.
I thought...
I, I thought you didn't know anything about the Touched.
Oh, no. No. The, the day, the day of the opera...
Was a revelation. Thank God you made me come.
The Touched are the future.
Particularly, your future.
What do you... Well, I'm certainly...
Massen thinks the Touched are a plague.
I think they're a goldmine. One that I have dug out.
All I need is a small, uh, investment. Ha.
How much?
Well, to get started, shall we say, uh, nothing?
Augie, I don't need money.
It's your name I find fetching.
Bidlow on the contracts...
It lends a legitimacy. Keeps the legal woes at bay.
More importantly, we can be partners.
We are forever second sons, you and I.
Worse, my older brother is dead, and yours is a woman.
It's time we made our mark.
The Touched are the future.
And these two lovely girls are the present.
Oh, no, Hugo. No, I can't.
Sorry. So sorry. I don't mean to... Oh...
Oh, no! You found me.
You did put up a sign.
- Where's Mary? - First you have to shed.
- Shed? - Ugh!
I have to do everything myself.
Aah!
There's a German philosopher...
Very well-respected...
Said a say about all the things...
That don't kill you...
Would you like to beat me some more?
All your pain. Your rage.
At some point, it's what you are.
And pain despises hope. I know.
But Mary's song isn't just hope.
We can gather people like us,
and make sure your angels can't hurt anyone else.
But I don't care about anyone else.
No, wait. You...
don't care about anyone else.
I care about Mary.
Oh, is she your new best friend?
Is she your new best friend?
I don't know how to do this.
This riddle-me shit. It's beneath you.
Well, uh...
No, it isn't.
She can drop, and you can shed.
You're the woman who sheds her skin.
- You mean my dress. - I mean, your friends.
I mean, well, you know, "A friend's the one you trust
to trust you back."
Molly.
Sarah.
Sarah, I didn't...
Oh, God, I didn't know what happened to you.
- I thought... - What happened? You fed me to them.
I woke up every morning in their teeth that chewed me.
Cut me. Raped me into tiny bits and then put me back
and then ground me up and then put me back.
And then two whole years of screaming
while you dined on beef and ground it up
and never cared and never looked.
You said you were my friend!
I'm sorry. I didn't have a choice.
Because you had a mission.
Yeah. Well, God gave me a mission, too.
So now you do have a choice.
If Mary is your new best friend, you must be done with that one.
Annie and the boys fetched her.
She heard you're supposed to be inseparable.
But we know you.
See how they's connected?
One drops, the other goes, too. Like friends.
Shoot one, you get to keep the other.
Shoot me, well, obviously...
I do have a mission.
I didn't ask for it. I'm not cut out for it.
But it matters.
And it requires sacrifice.
No! No!
No. Not this. This is a cheat!
No. I can't hurt you if you leave me.
The mission, Sarah.
Needs them.
- Come on... - Not me.
- No... - And not you.
Close in. Now.
Time to go.
Mrs. True.
Back off!
Mrs. True, can you hear me?
Dr. Cousens! Dr. Horatio Cousens.
45 Beckett Lane, now! Now!
Mary?
She's fine.
Okay.
Good job. Thank you both.
You nearly died, you great idiot!
You nearly died.
But not by my own hand!
There's not a place in Heaven
for them who scorn the gift of life.
I knew Horatio would have time to sew me back up.
I missed the vital organs, silly.
- No, you didn't! - No, you didn't.
- Oh. I thought... - Either you don't know anatomy,
or you don't know how to aim.
Well, it was a bad gun.
You rest up now.
You, too.
All right, girls.
You can bother Mrs. True in a couple of days.
- Days. - I know. I promise.
There's something about Maladie that I...
No. There's loads I'll need explained,
but let's just be alive for awhile.
You sure about staying here?
Maladie's still about.
Well, they seem to be the people best prepared to handle her.
Yeah, but...
Don't you think it's all a bit...
They're odd.
I'm odd.
It's odd, what I do.
I've been ignoring it, Frank.
Ignored a lot of things.
Which you know that I do.
Being Touched...
Is that why...
- you didn't go through with the wed... - Please, Frank.
I'm so tired.
Of course.
Can I call on ya?
I mean, I have to.
Official questions, you know, and...
- Unless you'd prefer someone else... - No, no, no. No.
You can call.
I'm sorry for your terrible day.
You know, I always thought that I'd be the one
saying that to you.
Not a word about why it had to be tonight?
I'm sorry, doctor.
I can discern emotion when I see a face.
But telephones...
Angry people get louder, but also quieter.
Ah, you are an incomplete machine.
All people are. That's how it works.
Aah!
No, what matter the time,
this has to be seen.
A little miracle.
Three days ago...
Wait, go, go, go.
Aah.
I was just saying, a few days ago,
dark as the day we found it, and now...
Ain't we got fun?
You are an American,
and confounded by the mother tongue.
This is not fun.
This is war.
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