:20:01
Leave it. I've had enough.
:20:03
Here we are.
The late Mrs. Twain's room.
:20:06
She died in here.
:20:08
-Oh, dear.
-Died of what?
:20:10
She murdered herself
in her sleep, sir.
:20:13
-You mean suicide?
-Oh, no.
:20:15
It was murder, all right.
:20:17
Mrs. Twain hated herself.
:20:20
We keep this room locked.
:20:22
-Why is that?
-Mr. Twain loved her very much.
:20:26
He's kept her room just as it was
the night she choked herself...
:20:31
...nine years ago.
:20:41
Madam loved it here.
:20:43
She said it was
the cheeriest room in the house.
:20:51
-The doorbell.
-That was Mrs. Charleston.
:20:54
-I thought she was here.
-I am.
:20:56
I will not stay in this filthy room.
:20:59
Very well, madam.
I'll attend to it during dinner.
:21:03
-Thank you, Benson, sir.
-Mum!
:21:05
-What?
-Bensonmum. Ma'am.
:21:15
Baking flour.
:21:16
-What?
-This dust is baking flour.
:21:19
And these cobwebs-- Candied sugar.
:21:21
All placed here for the purpose
of frightening us.
:21:25
And that mouse--
Obviously a mechanical toy.
:21:31
-Silly.
-What is?
:21:34
I am. It's real.
:21:42
-Stop the car. We're here.
-That's why l stopped.
:21:45
-Open my door.
-You have chocolate on your face.
:21:48
The candy bar's on your face.
:21:51
-Imbecile, that's my moustache!
-Lick it and see.
:21:57
Wipe it off.
My hands are sticky.