1026 - Maggie leans dangerously outside the window, nightgown rippling in the wind, as Angelique continues to taunt her--Quentin doesn't want you anymore--"Because he'll never stop loving me." Stop it, begs Maggie, screaming. Only death can shut out the sound of my voice, declares Angelique--why wait? Hoffman, smiling a little, stands outside Angelique's voice, listening to Maggie's cries. Liz joins Hoffman--I heard someone scream, she says. I don't know, says Hoffman--it came from in there (but she's made no move to enter and help). Liz immediately enters and reaches out to pull Maggie, who begs, "Let me go!" back in. Liz reminds Maggie, if you jump, you'll take me down with you--do you want me to die? I only know I want to die myself, insists Maggie. Mrs. Collins, you don't mean that, says Hoffman (without conviction). I'll handle this, says Liz, just leave us alone--come away from the window, Liz urges Maggie. The young bride says, I want to die--I have nothing left to live for! Liz, her arm around Maggie's waist, asks what do you mean? Angelique told me herself that she'll never give Quentin up, sobs Maggie, she's the only one Quentin wants and it will always be that way. You don't know what you're saying, insists Liz. I do, says Maggie--Angelique said so herself. That isn't possible, says Liz. I heard her voice, says Maggie, and she spoke the truth.
Angelique is dead, you just imagined all this, says Liz. I just want to die! screams Maggie again. If you jump, Liz reminds her, you'll make Quentin feel guilty--do you want to destroy him, too? This calms Maggie, who finally, willingly comes into the room with Liz. Julia, still standing outside, looks disappointed, but grins as she walks down the hall. Back inside the room, Maggie tells Liz, I have nothing left to live for, nothing--everything Angelique said was true, all true. Maggie falls into a chair, sobbing, as the camera pans on Angelique's portrait.
Angelique, still trying to coax Maggie into jumping, realizes something has changed, and tells Maggie, my presence is in the portrait--"Look at me." Hoffman enters--Maggie almost jumped from the window, she explains--Liz heard her cries and came in and stopped her. Elizabeth was always too meddlesome for her own good! complains a disappointed Angelique. I know how you feel, says Hoffman, but it's better this way. Maggie Collins should be dead! insists Ang bitchily. Hoffman brings up a good point--Quentin would spend the rest of his life feeling guilty about Maggie's death. I can handle his guilt, insists Ang. You want them to separate of their own free will, says Hoffman--Maggie will never stay with Quentin after what he did to her tonight--you've won, but you just don't realize it yet. Yes, says Angelique, I know, but still, the image of Maggie lying on the stone beneath her window, cold, was not an unpleasant one--however, you're right, I have won, and that's what's important, isn't it?
The drawing room is still littered with party detritus as Liz leads Maggie in and seats her on the sofa. She turns on a light. Someone knocks at the door. Liz goes to answer it. It's Barnabas, still in his party costume. Is something wrong? she asks--what made you return so late? I was wondering about Quentin, he says. Liz asks him into the drawing room--I don't want to leave Maggie alone. Has Quentin come back? asks Barnabas. He'll never come back, says Maggie in a dead voice, as long as I'm here. Are you all right? asks Barnabas. Of course she isn't, says Liz, pouring Maggie a drink, how could anyone be after an evening like this?--"I'll never forgive Quentin for running out like that, never." He was only thinking of Angelique, remembering her, says Maggie. I'm not interested in what he was thinking, says Liz--she hands Maggie the drink. No, says Maggie. Liz insists--it will make you feel better. Barnabas tells Maggie, Elizabeth is right--he takes the drink from Liz and encourages Maggie, drink just some of it--perhaps it will help calm you. Looking up at Barnabas as if in a trance, Maggie obediently takes a sip. Stay with Maggie while I goes up and fix her a place in my room, asks Liz--I won't be long. That isn't necessary, says Maggie. Liz insists--stay here with Barnabas and drink some brandy, she urges the distraught woman. Maggie suddenly gasps, overwhelmed by a chill. Barnabas goes over and stokes up the fire. Angelique promised she'd return, says Maggie--she's kept her promise. Oh? asks Barnabas, interested. I heard her voice tonight, says Maggie, but that wasn't necessary
--for a long time I knew she'd come back. You heard her voice? inquires Barnabas. Never mind, says Maggie, you'll just tell me the same thing Liz told me, that it was the strain of the evening, the party. Where did you hear her voice? asks Barnabas. In her room, reveals Maggie, coming from her portrait--telling me... Telling you what? asks Barnabas. That she would never give Quentin up, because she's the one Quentin really wants--"It's the truth!" Maggie, says Barnabas gently--Angelique is dead. IS she? asks Maggie--then why is she still here, in every corner of this house?--these rooms are filled with her presence. You mean only her spirit is here, suggests Barnabas. I don't know what I mean, says Maggie, except that this house is hers, these rooms, and Quentin--even Quentin is hers, she'll never let me have him, never. In a way, says Barnabas, I believe you may be right. He walks away from her. She sips more of her drink. "You may be more right than you know," finishes Barnabas, gazing up at the empty upstairs landing.
Maggie sits on her bed in her room. Liz comes over and begins to brush her hair. You make me feel like a little girl, says Maggie. Are you feeling better? ask Liz. Calmer, says Maggie. That's a beginning, says Liz. Not a beginning, counters Maggie, only an ending; I've got to accept that. You can't, says Liz. Tonight I wore a dress that belonged to Angelique, says Maggie-Quentin saw me in that dress, he saw so clearly the difference between Angelique and me, I don't blame him for getting angry, for running from the house and not coming back. I do, says Liz. You shouldn't, says Maggie, it's not his fault I'm not Angelique. You must stop comparing yourself to her, insists Liz. Would Quentin stop? asks Maggie--never--she's won and I must accept that. You mustn't, says Liz. I have no choice, says Maggie. Don't allow the dead to overcome the living, urges Liz. Please, says Maggie, I want to accept defeat, please don't make me fight anymore, I just want to rest. She lies down on her bed.
Barnabas is looking over THE SEVENTH LEVEL OF WITCHCRAFT when Hoffman enters--I didn't know you'd come back, she says. I was waiting to hear from Liz about Maggie, he says--it's been a very difficult evening for her. So I understand, says Hoffman--I won't interrupt your reading, good night. Barnabas stops her and asks, "You were very close to the late Mrs. Collins, weren't you?" Yes, she answers, I was very devoted to her. I was just looking at this book that apparently belonged to her, remarks Barnabas--"Fascinating." Mrs. Collins had a wide variety of interests, says Hoffman. Some of them most unusual, remarks Barnabas. She was a most unusual person, answers Hoffman. So I gather, says Barn, I understand that she even promised to return after her death. She might have said it, smiles Hoffman, but of course it was figurative--she was just talking about her love for Quentin, so great it would survive after her death
--I don't think that's very difficult to understand. Angelique enters, asking, WHAT isn't so difficult to understand? Mr. Collins was asking if I'd ever heard anything about "your sister" returning after her death, says Hoffman. Barnabas stares at Angelique as she respond, I'm sure she did--Angelique was something of a romantic. Romantic? repeats Barnabas, gazing pointedly at the spine of the book in his hand. Mr. Collins was looking at one of Angelique's books, says Hoffman--on witchcraft. Oh, says Angelique--now, Mr. Collins, surely you don't think that Angelique's talk of returning from the dead had anything to do with witchcraft?--perhaps you yourself are the romantic. Perhaps, agrees Barnabas, giving her a sideways look. Hoffman, says Angelique, I need a light bulb in my bedside lamp--I want to do some reading. Hoffman leaves. "You are a curious man, Mr. Collins," remarks Angelique--I see that book has caught your imagination. Not my imagination, says Barnabas, my interest, yes. She sits on the sofa and begins to trim the flowers, explaining, I find even the idea of the occult immensely boring. Really? he asks. I don't dismiss it entirely, she says, but it seems that to deliberately pursue it would be a waste of time. "Oh?" says Barnabas. I don't mean it as a criticism of Angelique, she says, but don't you think a really fertile imagination shouldn't have to resort to witchcraft or stimulation? But what if it wasn't merely to stimulate the imagination? he asks. I can't imagine what other purpose it would have, she says. Perhaps a purpose of a more concrete nature, he suggests. Oh, I see, she says, rising from the sofa, walking towards the fire--now you're returning to your notion that Angelique's interest was sparked by a desire to return from the dead. She sits by the fire. Possibly, says Barnabas. She laughs--I find a discussion of witchcraft so late at night positively ludicrous, she says. Perhaps, says Barn, but there are still portions of this book that would be very much of interest to you. I doubt it, she says. The portions I was just reading, he says--the uses of fire in sorcery and witchcraft. Why should that interest me? she asks. If you remember, he says, last night you mentioned to me your attraction to fire. Oh, she says, well if you remember, I said my attraction was purely aesthetic. So you said, he says, but it was my distinct impression that when I saw you here, looking at the fire, you seemed to have more than an aesthetic interest. Why are you implying, Mr. Collins? she asks. Merely stating my impression, he says. Too bad you never knew my sister Angelique, she says--she had a marvelous appreciation for the preposterous. *I* am being preposterous? he asks--well, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to say good night to Mrs. Collins, he says, bowing. Smiling, he leaves her. She, however, is not in the least pleased.
Do you think he knows? Hoffman asks Angelique. No, but he definitely suspects, says Ang. Hoffman, worried, says that could be dangerous--he could talk to Quentin. Remember, says Angelique, Quentin and I have already been through the game of does she live or does she not, and the game ended the night Alexis' body was destroyed--anyone trying to revive speculation would get himself laughed right out of Collinwood. Suppose he finds a way to prove it? asks Hoffman. I have just the cure for her anxiety, says Ang--relax and enjoy the spectacle of Barnabas trying to prove anything. I just don't like it, comments Hoffman. Remember one thing, says Ang, even if Mr. Collins does get a little too close to the truth, I have the means to deal with him--after all, he is only human. (HA!) Yes, of course, says Hoffman, how could I have forgotten that? Angelique grins.
Maggie lies in bed in her room, Liz and Barnabas by her side. I didn't want to leave until I knew you were all right, he tells the young woman. She feels much better now, says Liz--aren't you, Maggie dear? I'm going to be all right, says Maggie in that dead voice. Of course you will be, agrees Barnabas. What she needs is a good night's sleep, says Liz, isn't that true, Maggie? Maggie asks, has Quentin come home? I haven't seen him, answers Barnabas--I don't think he has. I'm quite sure Quentin is all right, Liz assures Maggie, as will you yourself be--Barnabas, tell her she hasn't anything to worry about. We will handle whatever difficulties there are, says Barnabas--just forget everything and rest--good night. He bids Liz good night, too, and leaves. Maggie, he's a fine man, says Liz--doesn't it mean something to you to know you have friends who love you and want to help you?--it does, doesn't it? Maggie doesn't respond.
Barnabas goes to the still-open window in Angelique's room and closes it, then gazes up at the portrait. "Let me look into the eyes of Angelique and know the truth," he commands the portrait, staring at it.
What more could I need, Julia? Angelique asks Hoffman--no, good night. Hoffman smiles at her--I'll see you in the morning, she says. Yes, agrees Angelique, the morning of my new...and she stops. What's wrong? asks Hoffman. Someone is watching me, says Angelique, I can feel someone looking at me. There's no one here, says Hoffman. "Looking, staring into my eyes," says Angelique, touching her temple.
Barnabas continues to concentrate, looking into the eyes of the portrait, which begin to glow.
Angelique's own eyes are bathed in an eerie white light; she cries out, "My eyes, they're burning, they're on fire!" What can I do? asks Hoffman. "My eyes are on fire!" blares Angelique, I can't bear it!"
Now Barnabas' eyes are superimposed upon Angelique's. "It's the eyes of Angelique I'm looking into, he says--it is the truth of Angelique that I must know--come closer to me...closer...closer! "My eyes, stop looking at me!" screams Angelique, entering her room in a panic. She sees Barnabas standing there. "Why?" demands Barnabas, "because I see Angelique?" "You!" she cries. "You know!" "Yes, Angelique, I KNOW!" he says, gazing at her triumphantly.
NOTES: Ooohhh, wasn't that great? Who thought he'd have figured her out this quickly? What a great group of scenes at the end there, and how cool that he used burning and fire to get to her! You've got to love that expression on Barnabas' face, and you know he's thinking how great it is that he got revenge against Angelique for all she pulled on Maggie this evening. Burn, baby burn!
The scene with Maggie threatening to jump lasted way too long; I got so annoyed with her, I WANTED her to jump. She is just being so namby pamby about her own life, it's depressing to watch. Get some backbone, girl!
Glad Barnabas worked on Angelique while Hoffman was there. Now he knows he has two enemies, and Hoffman had better watch it. Grayson Hall does make her so very delightfully hateable!
At least Liz is feigning kindness toward Maggie, or perhaps it's even real. It's hard to tell with her, one senses Liz blows with the wind.
Barnabas put the clues together about Angelique very quickly, certainly one of the least clueless people in this storyline. He spoke to Maggie, to Hoffman, to Angelique, and viola, he did his neat little thang with the portrait and exposed her. Now what will happen? Will she try to "freeze" him to death, as she did Larry and Fred? Won't she get a surprise if she tries!
Poor Barnabas, running into a troublesome Angelique in both time bands. I bet he wonders if there are any out there in which she's good.
What will happen now that Barnabas has learned the truth about Angelique? A lot more interesting stuff is yet to come.
1027 - Angelique approaches Barnabas and asks, how did you discover I'm Angelique? I am an astute observer, he replies (and apparently the only one in the whole house). Who ARE you? she demands--or perhaps I should say WHAT are you? A cousin of Quentin's, and a friend of his and Maggie's, says Barnabas. Any man who can see into my eyes by staring into the eyes of my portrait in another room, and who can stand before me without fear is more than just a friend and cousin, she insists--he is not human. Let's concentrate on you for the moment, suggests Barnabas, and discuss my reason for summoning you here. Very well, what is your reason? she asks. Stop this plot of yours to destroy Maggie and take Quentin for yourself, he orders. (Love how he cuts to the chase.) And if I refuse to heed your warning? she asks--what will you do then? Then I will be forced to stop you myself, he says. How--by telling Quentin? she asks--he will laugh at you, after he gets over his exasperation--he's convinced I'm Alexis--if you don't believe me, tell him that I'm Angelique and see what he says. There are other ways of stopping you, I'm sure, he says. What confidence you have in your powers, she muses, whatever they are--but remember, I, too, have powers and they are stronger than yours. "We shall see, Angelique, we shall see," promises Barnabas. He bids her good night and leaves the room. Angelique picks up the phone and dials. At the other end, the phone is answered by a man holding a cigarette in one hand and a drink in the other. Father? asks Angelique. Who is this? he asks. (!) "Alexis, of course," he says, "I'd heard you came back." I must see you immediately, she says. Sorry, he says, taking a sip of his drink, but you should know by now that I'm not interested. (Nice, dysfunctional relationship there.) Would you be interested if I had something to tell you about Angelique? she asks. What about Angelique? he asks. I'll tell you when you come to Collinwood--meet me in Angelique's room in half an hour, she asks. Very well, he agrees, I'll be there. He hangs up, as does she. She sits down to wait for the arrival of Daddy Stokes.
As Barnabas heads downstairs, Quentin returns to Collinwood. We've been worried about you, says Barn. Where's Maggie? asks Quentin, sounding exhausted. She's gone to bed, says Barnabas. Is she all right? asks Quentin. You'd better go look in on her yourself, advises Barn. In a few minutes, says Quentin, heading for the drawing room. Barnabas stops him and asks, had you ever met Alexis before she came here? No, says Quentin, why do you ask? No reason, just curious, answers Barnabas--good night. He leaves. Quentin looks after him, perplexed.
Angelique paces her room, smiling. Her father knocks at her door and, without preamble or greeting, asks, what information do you have about your sister? "What?" she asks, totally pissed--"Not a word of greeting after such a long separation?" Really, he says, don't you think a show of fatherly affection on my part would be mildly hypocritical?--we've never made any secret of the way we feel about each other. True, she says, it was always Angelique you cared about, wasn't it?--well, allow me to congratulate you, Father
--on the success of your experiment--your darling Angelique--"I have come back." He grins, delighted. "You're Angelique?" he says to his laughing daughter, and embraces her. She hugs him back. For safety's sake, she adds, you'd better call me Alexis. Everyone assured me it was Alexis who came back from Florence, he says. It was, she tells him, just in time to give me the warmth of a sisterly touch--all the human life I needed. "Then Alexis was the one who opened the coffin," he says, not quite so gleeful anymore. Unfortunately, she says--"Does it bother you that she's dead?" Of course it does, says Stokes, I was only her stepfather, but I didn't want her to die. But we are back together again, she says with delight, taking his hands--you and I. Yes, we are, he agrees. And we have work to do, she says. What do you mean? he asks. As you know, she says, Quentin is married again, and I am going to get him back, of course. Of course, agrees her father. They sit on the window seat. Someone is interfering with my plan, she says, someone who has unusual, and I suspect, supernatural powers. Who? he asks. Barnabas Collins, she says. That's the name of the man in Will Loomis' book, he observes. Yes, this man claims to be descended from him, she says--he's so strange--his manner, the way he just arrived, plus the fascination he seems to have with this room. I don't understand, he says. Very odd things have been happening in this room, she says--Quentin, Barnabas and I have all witnessed it at different times. (Stokes wears and blue bow tie with white polka dots.) Tell me about these odd occurrences, he says. I can only tell you about my own, she says--I was coming down the corridor, opened the door to this room and found it had completely changed--empty, no furniture or drapes, deserted--then Hoffman came into the room, but not the Hoffman we know--she was dressed differently, her hair was different, besides, I had just left our Hoffman down in the foyer, minutes earlier. Fascinating, says Stokes, this is absolutely fascinating. He takes a puff of a cigarette and says, "The theory of parallel time!--according to the theory, my dear, the same people can travel down different time bands, simultaneously--their lives are different in each time band, of course, depending on the choices they make."
The camera focuses on Quentin's photo in his and Maggie's room. Quentin quietly enters the room and closes the door. He stands looking at Maggie, shaking his head. She awakens, sees him, and sits up in bed. They look at each other.
Maggie turns on the light, rises from bed--Darling, I'm so glad you're back, I feared something had happened to you. (He's still wearing his costume.) He turns away. Why did you just leave like that? she asks. Did anyone tell you whose dress you had on? he asks. I know, she says--it was the one Angelique wore last year. Then why did you wear it? he asks. I didn't have a costume, she explains--Alexis helped me select it from the trunk--she didn't know anymore than I did that it was Angelique's. Oh, I see, he says tiredly. He pulls at his torn shirt, takes off his tie. Is that all you have to say? she asks. He is silent. Quentin? she asks. I'm very tired, he says, I've been driving all night. I know that any mention of Angelique's name is painful to you, she says, but you don't know what happened after you left last night--I very nearly killed myself.
What? he asks, reaching out for her--what are you talking about? I was in Angelique's room, she explains, and I heard her voice. Now, Maggie, he says warningly. She, however, continues--I heard Angelique's voice coming from the portrait over the mantle. That is impossible! he insists. It was telling me I had nothing to live for, she says, because... "Maggie, you were imagining that!" he says. I wasn't, she says--doesn't it mean anything to you that you could have come home and found me dead beneath HER window? Gently, he says, I'm struggling, trying very hard to understand certain things--I want you to live and be happy, but every time I seem to end up hurting you. He touches her chin and says, I'm willing to start all over again--what more can I do? I don't know anymore, she says. They seem eons apart.
Stokes goes to the Old House and begins poking around, opening desk drawers. He examines Barnabas' wolf's head cane. Barnabas comes out and finds him standing in the drawing room. Who are you? he demands.
Permit me to introduce myself, says Stokes, embarrassed, I'm Timothy Eliot Stokes-- the gentleman who owns this house, Will, is an old friend of mine. Isn't it strange for you to be wandering around an old friend's house just before dawn? queries Barnabas. Will doesn't keep regular hours, says Stokes, or at least he didn't used to--perhaps he's changed. Perhaps he has, says Barnabas, taking his cane from Stokes' grip. Are you Barnabas Collins? asks Stokes. I am, says Barn--how did you know me? I suppose I recognized you from the description in Will's book, says Stokes--"You look very 18th century"--but I don't suppose you dress that way all the time. There was a costume ball last night at Collinwood, says Barnabas. Yes, the annual costume ball, says Stokes, it was started some years ago by my daughter, the late mistress of Collinwood. So you are the father of Angelique and Alexis? asks Barnabas. Stepfather, corrects Stokes, HER stepfather, only one of them left now. Yes, only one of them, says Barnabas. I beg your pardon for asking, says Stokes, but have we met before? I don't believe so, why? asks Barnabas. When you came into the room a little while ago, says Stokes, you looked at me as if you recognized me. On the contrary, says Barnabas, it was the surprise of finding a total stranger wandering around the house at an unusual hour. I'm sorry, says Stokes, Will has always been very generous, let me come and go in this house as I please--by the way, is he here? Yes, but sleeping right now, and I don't think he wishes to be disturbed, says Barnabas. The clock strikes; Barnabas looks at it. If you will forgive me, says Barnabas, I'd like to get some rest myself. By all means, says Stokes, do give my regards to old Will, won't you? I certainly will, says Barnabas, following Stokes to the door.
Lab - Cyrus and Sabrina are arguing. Cyrus, she asks, what's wrong?--something must be happening to you--we haven't seen each other for days, and I don't know if we're still engaged--is there someone else? Do you want me to answer that? he asks. No, she says, because it's too stupid--it is stupid, isn't it?--please answer me! A knock at the door interrupts them. Sabrina reluctantly, she goes to answer it. It's Maggie. Cyrus looks shell-shocked as Sabrina invites her in.
Maggie, tears in her voice, tells Cyrus, when I told Quentin I heard the voice coming from the portrait, he said I was imagining it--but I didn't--how can I reach him? Maybe you can't, says Cyrus calculatingly--maybe you'd better just accept the fact that Quentin will always be involved with Angelique. I can't believe you mean that, says Maggie. Why not? he asks--there are other men in the world besides Quentin--isn't it possible that somewhere there's a man who can make you as happy as Quentin can? This doesn't sound like you at all! says Maggie. Cyrus is suddenly beset by pain. Maggie is concerned. I'm fine, he assures her. You're ill, notes Maggie. Cyrus quickly ushers her out, apologizing for "things I have to do in the lab"--you understand, don't you?--I'm sorry. Cyrus fights the transformation, bent over from the agony. Sabrina comes downstairs--what's wrong? she asks--no! she cries. But it has happened
--Cyrus has turned into John Yaeger before Sabrina's eyes. "No, Cyrus!" she moans in horror, no! Yes! he says insinuatingly. Cyrus, says Sabrina, I don't believe it, it's not true!. The name is Yaeger, he reminds her--John Yaeger. The experiment, realizes Sabrina, the compound. A success beyond my wildest dreams! he chuckles, advancing on her, laughing.
Yaeger changes into one of his snazzy outfits. Sabrina begs "Cyrus", don't go--I love you no matter what happens--please, I understand. YOU understand? he sneers, grabbing her arm--you couldn't possibly understand. Maggie comes to the top of the stairs--Cyrus, are you still down there? she calls. Yaeger grabs hold of Sabrina, hurting her--find out what Maggie wants, he commands. Yaeger hides behind the brick chimney. Maggie follows Sabrina downstairs--I was worried about Cyrus, she says, and came back to make sure he was all right...Cyrus? No answer. Cyrus just left by the side door, says Sabrina. Has Cyrus has been ill today? Asks Maggie. Not that I know of, says Sabrina, why? Because he's never behaved that way before, says Maggie, the way he did when I was here earlier. He's been working very hard, says Sarina. The door opens. Quentin comes downstairs, asking for Cyrus. He went to the chemist, answers Sabrina. Good, says Quentin--I'll wait for him. It might be some time, warns Sabrina--he was going to wait there until they made up this compound for him--why don't you two go upstairs; I'll be up shortly. What's the matter with you? asks Quentin--what are you so nervous about? Nothing, she assures him. Yaeger listens closely, looking much like the Bogey Man. Quentin asks Maggie what, what are you doing here? Maggie, on the defensive, doesn't answer. Quentin turns to look at Sabrina, who looks back, then down. All right, what's going on? demands Quentin--you two know something I don't, which one of you is going to tell me? Maggie volunteers--I came here to talk to Cyrus about my experience in Angelique's room--I had hoped he would talk to you and try to convince you it really happened. Angry again, Quentin says, I thought we'd discussed that subject last night. How can I forget it? asks Maggie--it really did happen, and sooner or later you'll have to accept it. Accept it? he asks incredulously--I don't even consider it worth talking about! He stalks upstairs, Maggie following, urging him to wait. Yaeger, his face bathed in eerie light, says to himself, "Don't worry, my dearest Maggie, you won't be putting up with the likes of Quentin much longer--John Yaeger will see to that." He exits through the back door. Sabrina calls, "Cyrus!", then, realizing it's too late, whispers, "Oh, Cyrus!"
Barnabas returns to Collinwood, where Quentin greets him in the foyer. I've been away all day, says Barnabas, and wondered how you and Maggie got along last night. We had a long talk last night, says Quentin, and I thought she was getting better, but she has a fixation on my first voice--she thinks she heard Angelique's voice coming out of that portrait. That's unfortunate, says Barnabas. She's upstairs now, sleeping, says Quentin--perhaps after a few days' rest, she'll be all right, I don't know. Let's hope so, says Barnabas. I was just on my way to pay a visit to Dr. Longworth, says Quentin. I'll walk part of the way with you, offers Barnabas. Fine, says Quentin, and they depart.
Maggie lies in bed, asleep. John Yaeger has somehow entered Collinwood. He walks down the corridor leading to Maggie room, enters, and stands at the foot of her bed, salivating. "Now, John Yaeger, now!" he tells himself, and moves closer to the unsuspecting Maggie.
NOTES: Rapist in the house! Who will save Maggie from Yaeger this time--if anyone? And now that Sabrina knows about the Longworth-Yaeger connection, are her days numbered? She's all set to love this man, despite everything, and she must know he killed Horace Gladstone! We can only hope Yaeger will do away with her somehow!
And yet another brilliant characterization by Thayer David as the seedy, creepy step-daddy of Alexis and Angelique! They never go into specific details, but one assumes that the twins' mother married Stokes after the death or divorce of her husband, and she is apparently not in the picture anymore. In any event, wasn't it awful the way he didn't even hug or greet her until he learned she was Angelique, not Alexis? How awful for him to have rejected one of the girls all these years; no wonder Alexis went to find fame, fortune and acceptance abroad. His sadness over Alexis' death seemed momentary at best, and not especially sincere. But when he embraced his newly-resurrected daughter, how thrilled he was! I found it absolutely disgraceful, but we know that Angelique took after Daddy dearest, don't we?
Isn't Barnabas totally cool? He faces down a woman he knows possesses the power to return from the dead, yet he's all set to fight her for Quentin and Maggie's happiness. One must wonder why Barnabas didn't defend Maggie when Quentin told him about his wife thinking Angelique spoke to her from her portrait. Barnabas knows it's true, but is he waiting until he can expose Angelique completely? Their scene together was wonderful, so enjoyable, and I understand, even in the guise of PT, why this couple drew fans to DS then and does now. They are such fun adversaries, no matter what.
Poor Quentin seems so tired of all the BS, but his wife cannot mention Angelique. Tell her WHY, Quentin, and be mature about it! You've turned stalking off into an art form, buddy!
Now we have Stokes perhaps joining forces with his stepdaughter to thwart Barnabas, Yaeger about to pounce on Maggie, and Sabrina not knowing what the heck her man has been up to, but surely knowing it's no good.
This is one of those PT episodes that I did like, Sabrina notwithstanding.
Love, Robin
