In the reshoot of the previous scene, Barnabas remembers the latch, but it makes no difference: Dirk is still gone.
Carl returns from Atlantic City with more than salt-water taffy.
Welcome, Pansy Faye! Kay Frye gives a totally committed performance as she sashays around the Old House drawing room, singing "I'm Gonna Dance for You." While Barnabas and Beth watch in amazement and dismay, she even wiggles her behind in their faces. This is the first performance by the one and only, the incomparable, the original Miss Pansy Faye, direct from London. Her song includes a mention of “Ta-Ra-Ra-Boom-De-Ay,” a song made famous in the late 19th century by the well-known music-hall entertainer Lottie COLLINS.] Carl applauds wildly (also a solo performance) at the end.
Judith's reaction to Carl's choice of a bride is predictable--and hilarious. Did you bring someone terrible back from Atlantic City, like that tart you met in Albany last year? Judith asks sourly. Carl looks ashamed but insists, No one like that. This person is a world-famous mentalist and highly regarded. Scotland Yard used her once. As she sits down in the strange, three-person chair, Judith tells him sternly, You aren't sending for any mentalist to find Dirk! I don’t have to, Carl says--she’s here. Judith gets angrier and angrier as the oblivious Carl continues, I was on the train and saw her there. She looked so wan and pale, so I invited her to rest at Collinwood. Where is this _person_ now? Judith asks in her severest tones as she rises to her feet. At the Old House, Carl tells her. Just give her a chance--she’ll find Dirk for you.
Carl beams with delight as he introduces Judith to his intended. Pansy curtseys and says, Pleased to make your acquaintance, I'm sure. Judith greets her prospective sister-in-law with freezingly minimal politeness. Judith is really worried about this, Carl says anxiously, so we should begin. Harshly, Pansy asks, Did you bring something that belonged to the missing man? Carl brings over a chair for her and says, I sure did--cufflinks, I think. He hands them to her. That will do, she says. Grandly she tells them all, Please sit. Carl, put on my music. I've got to have my music to get in the mood, she explains, simpering. I'm sure you do, Judith replies with unmistakable sarcasm. Who knew Barnabas had a phonograph squirreled away? (Or maybe it was Magda and Sandor’s.) Carl dashes to the room behind the louver doors to the right of the fireplace. The music starts up (her song), and he dashes back out again. Pansy tells Barnabas, Please turn down the lights. It would make me feel a lot better--and I'd look a lot better, she adds with a cackle. Barnabas rises and does so. With a cold eye Pansy assesses the cufflinks: Worth about a quid, I'd say. The music plays. Go on, begin, Carl tells Pansy after Judith glares at him. Everyone sits except for Barnabas, who leans on the mantelpiece, watching her with barely concealed contempt. Pansy holds the cufflink to her forehead and concentrates. She says, There's someone out there, and I've got something of his--a pair of lovely cufflinks he needs! A gentleman by the name of Dirk--Dirk Wilkins! Pansy calls out, Where are you, Dirk? Let me know where I can find you! Let me know! Dirk! she cries, then falls forward in her chair. Alarmed, Carl says, That's never happened before! Something is wrong! Barnabas’s contempt turns to fear when Pansy apparently slips into a genuine trance. He’s dead! she announces. Dirk Wilkins is dead--and the person who killed him is in this house! While Barnabas looks on in horror, she slumps over, apparently unconscious.
Judith is affronted at what she thinks is sheer fakery and stomps out of the Old House, with Carl chasing after her. Naturally, Pansy remembers nothing of what happened. Who told you that Dirk was dead? Barnabas asks. A voice, she says--I don't understand it. I wish Carl hadn't asked me to perform, she sighs. I'd rather sing than do the mental act, any time. I have a lovely trained voice, as Carl knows, she says proudly. I know, Barnabas says with a smile. She didn't like me, did she? Pansy asks. I'll go see what I can do with him, Barnabas tells her. I want to go up there and show her I'm not afraid of her, Pansy insists. Stay here, Barnabas advises her--I'll handle it. But a moment after he goes out, she admits to herself, You really mucked that up, Pansy old girl. You should just go up to that big house and tell Carl Collins-- She jumps up from her chair and marches out.
Barnabas goes to Collinwood but from the foyer he can hear Carl and Judith arguing violently in the drawing room. I don't understand your being in love with a woman like that at all! Judith storms. I’ll keep on loving her! Carl vows. Beth joins Barnabas and tells him, Dirk isn't in the house. Barnabas tells her, Come with me--I know of a place Dirk has to be. If we get there in time, we can wait for him. Judith and Carl continue their argument about Pansy, not knowing that Barnabas and Beth ever came or went.
Pansy is walking in the woods when she hears a noise. Who’s there? she calls out. A giant bat swoops down on her, disregarding her screams.
Barnabas and Beth are at the cemetery, standing beside an open grave--presumably Dirk swiped someone else’s coffin. Barnabas tells Beth, Dirk has found his secret sleeping place--but where is he now? Now Barnabas is getting very worried.
Judith tells Carl, I feel a responsibility to this family whether you do or not. She says flatly, _That woman_ is not suitable! I'm more mature and wise than you are. Miss Faye will leave this estate tonight! Carl protests, so Judith tells him, You can go with her--that’s your privilege. But if you do, I’ll give you no more money--nor will you be allowed to come back ever again. Carl bursts into tears, sputtering with rage--but Judith has already stormed out.
Barnabas returns to the Old House alone. All is dark and quiet, and at first he misses the figure sitting in the chair. Miss Faye, he says, and gently touches her shoulder, but as she slumps over again Barnabas can see the trickles of blood running down her neck. Oh my god, he breathes. No!....
