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10INT. DRAWING ROOM, 145 PICCADILLY - CONTINUOUS

CLOSE ON SIR BLANDINE-BENTHAM - an elderly, unctuous, studiedly-distinguished physician who simultaneously manages to combine pontificating and obsequiousness.

SIR BLANDINE-BENTHAM

Inhale deep into your lungs.

Relaxes your larynx, does it not?

Bertie is seated nervously on the edge of a couch, gripping a cigarette between thumb and forefinger, placed in the middle of his mouth.

Elizabeth watches from across the room.

SIR BLANDINE-BENTHAM (CONT’D)

Cigarette smoking calms the nerves

and gives you confidence.

Bertie clearly feels nothing of the sort. Smiling ingratiatingly, the doctor produces a medical cannister from his bag.

SIR BLANDINE-BENTHAM (CONT’D)

If Your Highness will be so kind as

to open his hand...

Bertie unclenches a fist.

SIR BLANDINE-BENTHAM (CONT’D)

Thank you so very much.

Opening the container, with forceps he removes five marbles from an antiseptic solution and places them onto Bertie’s palm.

SIR BLANDINE-BENTHAM (CONT’D)

Sterilized. Now...if I may take the

liberty?...insert them into your

mouth.

Bertie obeys, mortified. The doctor hands Bertie a book from his bag.

SIR BLANDINE-BENTHAM (CONT’D)

Would you be so kind as to read.

Bertie blanches, his neck muscles twitch and constrict

BERTIE

I...

He can’t even say “can’t”.

SIR BLANDINE-BENTHAM

Just take your time. Relax.

Bertie is unable to do it. Elizabeth watches with growing discomfort.

ELIZABETH