Isle of the Dead

Get on with you. Find younger ears
to listen to your nonsense.

General Pherides, this is Mr. St. Aubyn,
British Consul from Adrianople.

My congratulations, General.
A fine fight, sir.

But a little inconvenient for travel.
There will be no more fighting here.
The enemy is in retreat.

- Good.
- And Mrs. St. Aubyn.

Robbins, Henry Robbins, tinware.
Best grade. Lowest prices.
Robbins is no robber.
- Aren't you a little out of your territory?
- That I am.

I'd give all the blooming statues in Greece
for one whiff of fish and chips.

- For one peek at Whitechapel.
- Each to his own taste.

I'm going back
on the first boat to England.

I'm for the sound of Bow Bells, I am.
I'm not well. Something's wrong with me.
An odd way to explain plain drunkenness.
He fell.
Horrible stairs.
I'm quite sure Mr. Robbins
will be all right in the morning.

- Thea, this is Mr. Davis.
- How do you do?

Thea, would you give our friends wine?
- Will you have wine, sir?
- Thank you.

Were you singing when we arrived?
- Thea has a lovely voice.
- She has indeed.

And now, General Pherides.
Why, Thea...
What's the matter?
Don't you like the General?

The General is a cruel man.
He has a bad name.

- Mr. Davis.
- Excuse me.

I do hope, sir, you won't feel
offended at Thea.

I'm afraid we rather spoil her.
You see, Mrs. St. Aubyn is so fond of her.

I've been asking the General
to spend the night. He'll have none of it.