Strategic Assets
MICHAEL: Thank you for visiting, Claire.
CLAIRE: Thank you for having me. This is delicious champagne. And the view is simply beautiful, Michael.
MICHAEL: Isn't it? Tallest building on Piccadilly. You can see everyone from the terrace, and no one can see you.
CLAIRE: All of St James's Park, spread out before you.
MICHAEL: If it weren't for the traffic, you'd think we were in the country.
CLAIRE: How does a cultural attaché with the American embassy afford this place? Do you come from family?
MICHAEL: After a fashion. My Uncle Sam pays the rent.
CLAIRE: Ah, it's a grace and favor flat.
MICHAEL: Well, yes, although we don't call it that.
CLAIRE: You do throw swell parties here.
MICHAEL: That's my job, after all.
CLAIRE: Sydney can't stop talking about your parties.
MICHAEL: She's a lovely girl.
CLAIRE: In fact, she can't stop talking about you.
MICHAEL: Really?
CLAIRE: Yes.
MICHAEL: Ah, now we come to reason for this visit.
CLAIRE: Yes.
MICHAEL: Well, out with it. What's the matter?
CLAIRE: You. Well, you and your rather public affair with Sydney.
MICHAEL: Public? Really. It's no such thing.
CLAIRE: It is every such thing. She is following you around like a puppy.
MICHAEL: I am quite fond of her.
CLAIRE: I'm fond of my car, but I do not drive it everywhere.
MICHAEL: And here I thought she and I were being discreet.
CLAIRE: I doubt that. Everyone is talking about it.
MICHAEL: Everyone?
CLAIRE: Everyone who matters. It will be in the papers in days if you keep this up.
MICHAEL: Well, then it's in the papers.
CLAIRE: That can't be allowed to happen.
MICHAEL: Why not?
CLAIRE: Because she's a duke's daughter, you idiot.
MICHAEL: And I'm...
CLAIRE: Irish.
MICHAEL: I'm American!
CLAIRE: Which means you're Irish.
MICHAEL: I could be Scots.
CLAIRE: That's hardly better. Anyone below baron is Irish to her family. A scandal will ruin her chances of making a good marriage.
MICHAEL: What's a good marriage?
CLAIRE: One with a scion of a good family, ideally one with a great deal of money left.
MICHAEL: Not many of those still around.
CLAIRE: All the more reason that you don't ruin it
MICHAEL: Your father is an earl, and I don't see you on the prowl for a rich husband.
CLAIRE: Sydney's an only child. I have two older brothers. I have different responsibilities.
MICHAEL: Really? What are yours?
CLAIRE: Spending my money fast enough to be fashionable yet slow enough not to have to beg for more.
MICHAEL: Sounds challenging.
CLAIRE: You have no idea.
MICHAEL: Anyway, shouldn't His Grace her father be here having this conversation with me?
CLAIRE: He doesn't care, yet. He's in Rotterdam with his Dutch mistress.
MICHAEL: Rotterdam?
CLAIRE: He couldn't very well bring her here.
MICHAEL: Ah, because...
CLAIRE: ... there would be a scandal. I'm glad you catch on so quickly.
MICHAEL: Then I suppose that she should stop visiting the Gateways Club with you?
CLAIRE: Oh. You know about that.
MICHAEL: And your trips to a certain establishment in the very shadow of Christchurch Spitalfields?
CLAIRE: Oh. I'm very surprised you know about that too.
MICHAEL: It's rather my business to know these things.
CLAIRE: Oh, how stupid of me. You're a spy.
MICHAEL: Only among friends.
CLAIRE: I'm flattered. So, why do you bring up this fascinating blackmail material?
MICHAEL: More curiosity that anything else. Shall we speak frankly?
CLAIRE: I assure you there is nothing I enjoy more than speaking frankly with men.
MICHAEL: I don't doubt it. Are you sexually inverted?
CLAIRE: Only with women.
MICHAEL: Very good. I will update your file accordingly.
CLAIRE: You have a file on me?
MICHAEL: The daughters of the aristocracy are strategic assets, whether or not they wish to be.
CLAIRE: I rather fancy being a strategic asset.
MICHAEL: And a beautiful one, may I add.
CLAIRE: Stop at once. His Majesty's Government have restricted strategic assets to one per consular official, and you have yours.
MICHAEL: Damn these privations. Anyway, Sydney was being seen with that Austrian, von Lothringen, and he was no baron.
CLAIRE: He was an archduke!
MICHAEL: If he's an archduke, I'm King of Connacht. There was a brief bit of unpleasantness around 1918 that settled that particular royal house.
CLAIRE: Very funny. I'll admit that we were not crushed when she sent Herr Not-a-Hapsburg flouncing back to Vienna, but he was of the right class.
MICHAEL: Pity about his politics.
CLAIRE: Quite. Pity.
MICHAEL: Very well. What is it that you want me to do?
CLAIRE: Cut it off with Sydney. Haven't I said that already?
MICHAEL: Isn't that Sydney's choice?
CLAIRE: One thing you learn as a strategic asset is that nothing is ever entirely your choice.
MICHAEL: I suppose we could be more discreet.
CLAIRE: You could scarcely be less.
MICHAEL: Very well, Claire. I'll have a word with her.
CLAIRE: Thank you.
MICHAEL: Really, it's nothing.
CLAIRE: And the less said about...
MICHAEL: The Gateways Club?
CLAIRE: ... the better. Yes.
MICHAEL: And about your dear friend Pansy?
CLAIRE: Ah. You know about her, too.
MICHAEL: You aren't bad at disguise, Claire, but... this is what I do, after all.
CLAIRE: Well, it wouldn't do for Lady Claire to be slumming on the East End, would it?
MICHAEL: Not at all. And it certainly wouldn't do for Lady Claire to be...
CLAIRE: Yes, yes, I understand completely. I'm glad I can trust to your discretion.
MICHAEL: It is absolute, of course.
CLAIRE:
In her "Pansy" voice I'm very much obliged, sir.
MICHAEL: You do that quite well.
CLAIRE: A great deal of practice.
MICHAEL: Under some trying circumstances, if my reports are accurate.
CLAIRE: We are speaking frankly.
MICHAEL: I'm just curious where you came up with the idea of impersonating an East End prostitute.
CLAIRE: Garden parties become so deadly.
MICHAEL: I could give you some pointers.
CLAIRE: At being a Spitalfields tart? I'm fascinated.
MICHAEL: At impersonation, of course.
CLAIRE: Well... alright! This is rather a fun game, I must confess. I had no idea that my best friend was bedding a spy.
MICHAEL: Neither does she, and I trust you will keep it that way. Now, shall we begin?
CLAIRE: Please!
MICHAEL: Make yourself comfortable.
CLAIRE: I excel at that.
MICHAEL: Doubtless. Now, please look directly at this.
CLAIRE: That pendant.
MICHAEL: Yes.
CLAIRE: Very well. And now what?
MICHAEL: Continue staring at it.
CLAIRE: You're going to hypnotize me, aren't you? Sydney said you did that to her, too.
MICHAEL: Do you trust me?
CLAIRE: Of course not.
MICHAEL: That's wise. Will you permit it, nonetheless?
CLAIRE: Yes, on the condition that I am asked do nothing that I would not otherwise do.
MICHAEL: And what, precisely, would you not otherwise do?
CLAIRE: Anything publicly embarrassing that I cannot blame on drink.
MICHAEL: Nothing else?
CLAIRE: You must think me a horrible slut.
MICHAEL: I wouldn't say horrible.
CLAIRE: If you were not Sydney's lover, I would push you off this terrace. Proceed.
MICHAEL: With pleasure. Now, relax back and stare at the pendant.
CLAIRE: Like this?
MICHAEL: Perfect. Keep staring at it, very closely. Don't even blink if you can help it.
CLAIRE: Is this how you seduced Sydney?
MICHAEL: Why do you ask?
CLAIRE: Just curious. Continue.
MICHAEL: Relax. Let yourself drift.
CLAIRE: This was a lot of trouble just to get her into bed. Two Singapore Slings are usually sufficient.
MICHAEL: Claire.
CLAIRE: What?
MICHAEL: Focus.
CLAIRE: I'm terribly sorry. I am a bit nervous.
MICHAEL: Why?
CLAIRE: Oh... no reason. Please, continue. My apologies.
MICHAEL: None required. Now, stare directly at the pendant. I'm going to start moving it. Just stare, and let it cross in front of you. Don't try to follow it.
CLAIRE: Like this?
MICHAEL: Precisely.
CLAIRE: It is soothing.
MICHAEL: Back and forth... back and forth... relax, Claire. Let yourself go.
CLAIRE: Very soothing.
MICHAEL: Back and forth...
CLAIRE: Back and forth...
MICHAEL: Relax...
CLAIRE: Relax...
MICHAEL: Let yourself go. Drift. Your eyes are getting very heavy.
CLAIRE: Very heavy... oooooh...
MICHAEL: That's wonderful. You can't keep your eyes open. Drift away, let yourself sleep... sleep...
CLAIRE: Sleep...
MICHAEL: Go to sleep for me, Claire.
CLAIRE: Sleep for you...
MICHAEL: That's very good. Close your eyes. You are in a deep, hypnotic trance.
CLAIRE: Yes... a deep, hypnotic trance.
MICHAEL: It feels wonderful to drift.
CLAIRE: Drift.
MICHAEL: Relax. Don't think.
CLAIRE: Don't think...
MICHAEL: Very open and receptive.
CLAIRE: Receptive.
MICHAEL: You have no will.
CLAIRE: No will.
MICHAEL: You cannot resist me.
CLAIRE: I cannot resist.
MICHAEL: Completely open.
CLAIRE: Open.
MICHAEL: Give yourself to me completely.
CLAIRE: Yes... give myself to you...
MICHAEL: Now, Claire, tell me about Pansy.
CLAIRE: About Pansy?
MICHAEL: Yes, tell me about Pansy?
CLAIRE: She's just someone I pretend to be, sometimes. When I want a bit of fun away from the West End.
MICHAEL: Do you know anything about her? Her parents? Where she lives?
CLAIRE: No... she's not a real person.
MICHAEL: Yes, she is.
CLAIRE: She is?
MICHAEL: She can be. Let's talk about her.
CLAIRE: Yes.
MICHAEL: Tell me about her parents.
CLAIRE: Her father was a publican. No. A shopkeeper. Yes, that's it. He made... hats. Lovely hats. But when he died, creditors took it all...
(later)
PANSY: Yes, sir. I understand, sir.
MICHAEL: Thank you, Pansy. Let's go over some particulars, again.
PANSY: Certainly, sir. I will tell you anything you wish to know.
MICHAEL: Age?
PANSY: 22.
MICHAEL: Place of birth?
PANSY: My family's house in Brick Lane. Above our shop.
MICHAEL: Place of residence?
PANSY: Spitalfields, mostly. I move around a bit.
MICHAEL: Are your parents still alive?
PANSY: I'm afraid not, sir.
MICHAEL: I'm sorry.
PANSY: Thank you, sir.
MICHAEL: Profession?
PANSY: Well, before my father died, I helped keep his shop. On Brick Lane. He made hats, women's hats, very fancy ones.
MICHAEL: And now?
PANSY: Well, times are very hard, sir, as you know.
MICHAEL: Indeed they are.
PANSY: He owed money when he died, and they took the shop.
MICHAEL: That must have been very hard on you.
PANSY: Not as hard as it was on my mother. It killed her.
MICHAEL: I am sorry to hear that. No brothers or sisters?
PANSY: No, sir. I am alone in the world.
MICHAEL: So how do you survive?
PANSY: So, I... well, certain fine gentlemen assist me.
MICHAEL: Ah, yes, I understand.
PANSY: But I am not a bad girl, not like the sluts on the street.
MICHAEL: I did not think that for a moment.
PANSY: Thank you, sir. I could see at once you were very sympathetic.
MICHAEL: And I dare say that parts of your work you find appealing.
PANSY: It would be lying to deny it.
MICHAEL: And I am sure you are accomplished at it.
PANSY: I get no complaints, sir, and that's not a boast. I've only been doing it for a year, but I dare say I've learned quite a bit.
MICHAEL: You are as modest as you are beautiful.
PANSY: Thank you, sir.
MICHAEL: And where are you right now?
PANSY: I am at your flat on Piccadilly.
MICHAEL: And why are you here?
PANSY: You brought me here. Brought me up the back stairs, bundled up so no one could see.
MICHAEL: And why did I do that?
PANSY: You are one of my fine gentlemen, sir. It wouldn't do to have a girl such as me come up the front stairs.
MICHAEL: You have passed with flying colors, Pansy.
PANSY: You are too kind, sir.
MICHAEL: I've never been called that before. Now, I am going to count down from three, and when I reach one, you will awaken. Do you understand?
PANSY: Oh, yes, sir. I understand.
MICHAEL: Three... two... one.
PANSY: Oh, look at this beautiful view! You could see all the way to Dover from here!
MICHAEL: Dover Street perhaps. It's just down the block.
PANSY: The block?
MICHAEL: Oh, that's right, London doesn't have blocks. Would you like some champagne?
PANSY: I don't drink champagne very often, sir. It goes straight to my head.
MICHAEL: Then, by all means, you should have some.
PANSY: You are too kind, sir.
MICHAEL: Twice in one day.
PANSY: Sir?
MICHAEL: Nothing. Here's... to beautiful East End girls!
PANSY: You are making me blush!
MICHAEL: I'm glad that's still possible.
PANSY: Sir!
MICHAEL: Ignore my teasing.
PANSY: Oh, you are having fun with me.
MICHAEL: Not at present, but soon.
PANSY: And... these clothes! They're so lovely! I could never afford such things.
MICHAEL: They're yours.
PANSY: Sir! I can't accept!
MICHAEL: Why not?
PANSY: They're far too fancy for me.
MICHAEL: Nonsense. They fit you perfectly. It's as if they were made for you.
PANSY: You are very generous.
MICHAEL: But...
PANSY: Sir?
MICHAEL: It would be terrible if they were damaged or soiled. You'd best take them off.
PANSY: But... we're out of doors!
MICHAEL: No one can see us. Not even the penthouse of the Ritz is this high.
PANSY: Are you certain?
MICHAEL: Not unless a pilot landing at Northolt has extremely good vision.
PANSY: Oh, dear!
MICHAEL: I'm joking. We are as private as if we were in the middle of the Highlands.
PANSY: Very well...
MICHAEL: As long as you keep your voice down.
PANSY: Oh, am I speaking too loudly?
MICHAEL: That wasn't quite what I meant. Please, allow me to assist you with your dress.
PANSY: I have never done anything like this before.
MICHAEL: I am certain that you will acquit yourself admirably. Now, bend over.
PANSY: Oh, sir, yes, that's a favorite...
MICHAEL: But not there.
PANSY: Sir?
MICHAEL: Here. Against the edge. Look over.
PANSY: But... but I can see the street!
MICHAEL: But they can only see your face.
PANSY: But...
MICHAEL: No buts. Then, with me kneeling behind you, I can apply my mouth... no, spread a bit wider, that's a dear... like this...
PANSY: Oh! Oh, sir! Oh... oh, that's... that's...
MICHAEL: Now, keep your voice down.
PANSY: I... will do my best... oh, that's wonderful... please, don't stop... oh... sir, that's exquisite...
(later)
PANSY: Oh...
MICHAEL: Are you alright, my dear?
PANSY: Oh, yes. Just a bit breathless.
MICHAEL: Deep breaths.
PANSY: Yes, deep breaths...
MICHAEL: My, that flatters your bosom.
PANSY: You are teasing me again!
MICHAEL: Not a bit of it.
PANSY: And I haven't done anything for you, yet.
MICHAEL: I wouldn't say that. I find pleasuring a woman that way most enjoyable.
PANSY: But you've been so generous to me. May I...?
MICHAEL: Please, help yourself.
PANSY: I've been told I'm very skilled with my mouth.
MICHAEL: You kiss exquisitely.
PANSY: I meant other things.
MICHAEL: I'm certain that you did. But, let's start with kissing again.
PANSY: Oh, yes. And then down your chest...
MICHAEL: Oh, that is delicious...
PANSY: And then down... down...
MICHAEL: Oh, my. You are skilled.
PANSY: Thank you, sir.
MICHAEL: Oh, yes... yes... that is wonderful...
PANSY: Now, shouldn't you be careful not to make too much noise?
MICHAEL: Vixen. Oh! Oh... don't stop... just like that...
PANSY: Did you enjoy that?
MICHAEL: That was astonishing. Thank you, Pansy.
PANSY: Of course, sir.
MICHAEL: Now, if I could ask you to lie down here...
PANSY: Sir?
MICHAEL: And spread your legs...
PANSY: Oh, sir! Most men are... spent after that.
MICHAEL: You certainly do not look spent, my dear. Do you enjoy being touched there?
PANSY: Oh, yes.
MICHAEL: And there?
PANSY: Oh, yes!
MICHAEL: And if I slide in one finger, then two... and then begin to finger, slowly...
PANSY: Oh, yes! Yes, sir! Please... if you would... I am so ready for you.
MICHAEL: As I am for you.
PANSY: I will guide you in.
MICHAEL: Like... that?
PANSY: Oh, like that... now... please... harder... please...
MICHAEL: You are remarkably... flexible... Pansy... Oh, yes...
(later)
PANSY: Oh, sir. I may be a tart...
MICHAEL: Pansy, do not denigrate yourself...
PANSY: But I have never been bedded like that.
MICHAEL: I'm flattered.
PANSY: I trust you might... seek me out again?
MICHAEL: Of course, my dear. I could not resist your charms.
PANSY: Thank you, sir. I suppose I should... dress now.
MICHAEL: In a moment. Sleep for me.
PANSY: Oh... oh... what is... yes, sleep.
MICHAEL: That's very good, Claire. Sleep very deeply.
CLAIRE: Yes, very deeply.
MICHAEL: Just listen to my voice. You can't think about anything else.
CLAIRE: Yes, your voice.
MICHAEL: So deep. So open and trusting.
CLAIRE: Yes... trusting...
MICHAEL: Anything I say...
CLAIRE: Yes, anything.
MICHAEL: Now, Claire, let's talk about something else.
CLAIRE: Anything, MICHAEL: MICHAEL: You will be completely honest with me.
CLAIRE: Yes...
MICHAEL: And completely open to my suggestions.
CLAIRE: Yes, Michael. Anything.
CLAIRE: I've been in love with you for weeks.
MICHAEL: Have you?
CLAIRE: Madly. Insanely. I cannot stop thinking about you.
MICHAEL: And why haven't you told me?
CLAIRE: Because you were Sydney's, and I didn't want to interfere.
MICHAEL: But you wanted me?
CLAIRE: Oh, yes. I would have done anything you asked. If you'd asked.
MICHAEL: Anything?
CLAIRE: Anything.
MICHAEL: You want to be my lover?
CLAIRE: In and out of bed.
MICHAEL: The thought excites you?
CLAIRE: Oh... oh, yes... yes... it does...
MICHAEL: In your mind, feel my mouth on your lips...
CLAIRE: Yes... deep, warm kisses...
MICHAEL: On your breasts...
CLAIRE: Yes... please... suck on them...
MICHAEL: And between your legs.
CLAIRE: Oh! Oh... that's wonderful!
MICHAEL: You can feel it, can't you, Claire?
CLAIRE: Yes,... oh, take me, take me...
MICHAEL: And now you can feel me inside of you...
CLAIRE: Yes! Like that! I'm yours!
MICHAEL: Entirely?
CLAIRE: Your love-slave! Anything you wish from me is yours.
MICHAEL: I wish you to have your climax, for me.
CLAIRE: Yes! Oh, yes! Michael, anything, everything, I am yours, your lover, your mistress, your whore, your slave if you wish! Yes... Oooooh! YES! Yes... yes... oh, god, yes...
MICHAEL: Now, sleep, Claire, and awaken refreshed and alert.
CLAIRE: Oh... such pleasure... yes... sleep...
MICHAEL: That's very good, Claire.
(later)
CLAIRE: Oh, what a refreshing... fuck. Michael, what is the meaning of this?
MICHAEL: I would think it's rather obvious.
CLAIRE: You... you had sex with... with Pansy!
MICHAEL: Well, she is a tart, isn't she?
CLAIRE: Oh! I... I... Well, yes, she is rather, isn't she? Did you enjoy her?
MICHAEL: She was wonderful, in her naïve way. Did she enjoy me?
CLAIRE: Rapture. Now, since we happen to find ourselves naked in the same bed together, will you please kiss me?
MICHAEL: Certainly.
CLAIRE: There. I've been waiting for weeks for that. But...
MICHAEL: But?
CLAIRE: Would you like to compare?
MICHAEL: Compare?
CLAIRE: Who is better in bed, Pansy or I?
MICHAEL: A gentleman would never make such a comparison.
CLAIRE: And how does that pertain to you? Anyway, you are lacking a critical piece of information to make that judgment.
MICHAEL: Yes?
CLAIRE: You haven't had me yet.
MICHAEL: Oh, you're right! We must remedy that sometime soon.
CLAIRE: No time like the present.
MICHAEL: Good god, how much stamina do you think I have?
CLAIRE: You'd best have quite a bit if you are going to keep company with me. Allow me to assist. I'm quite sure my skills with my mouth are superior to Pansy's...
MICHAEL: Oh... oh, yes...
CLAIRE: Pansy and I share a favorite position, though. I do hope you have strong knees.
(later)
MICHAEL: I am exhausted.
CLAIRE: As am I, love. But you were wonderful.
MICHAEL: As were you.
CLAIRE: And who is better?
MICHAEL: You are both wonderful and unique in your own ways.
CLAIRE: Devil. Come up to the country with me this weekend?
MICHAEL: I'm sorry, love. I'm to Munich.
CLAIRE: What's in Munich?
MICHAEL: Beer.
CLAIRE: And Nazis?
MICHAEL: Every city has its flaws.
CLAIRE: Oh! Take me?
MICHAEL: I just did.
CLAIRE: I am going to suffocate you, my darling. Take me to Munich.
MICHAEL: No can do, love. Lady Claire would set off alarms to Berlin and back.
CLAIRE: Damn. I would so like some adventure.
MICHAEL: On the other hand...
CLAIRE: The one that is fingering me?
MICHAEL: Yes, that one. I could take Pansy.
CLAIRE: You just did that, too. Lower...
MICHAEL: Now, who's the devil?
CLAIRE: You! You had me on the very same couch on which you screwed your little East End tart, and didn't even change the coverlet.
MICHAEL: Thank you for reminding me.
CLAIRE: What do you mean, darling? Oh, yes, like that...
MICHAEL: Sydney's coming over this evening.
CLAIRE: Oh, my god! Sydney! What am I going to tell her?
MICHAEL: I wouldn't worry, darling. I've already brought Lady Sydney up to date on the latest news.
CLAIRE: What latest news?
MICHAEL: About us.
CLAIRE: You are being insufferable, love. There was no "us" until this afternoon. You couldn't have told her.
MICHAEL: Perhaps I anticipated.
CLAIRE: You mean to tell me that you planned to seduce me this afternoon, and told my best friend that you were going to do so?
MICHAEL: I thought it would save time later. She knew that you were carrying a torch for me.
CLAIRE: And I thought I was being so discreet. Damn. Are you going to throw her over?
MICHAEL: Hadn't planned on it.
CLAIRE: You'd best have a great deal of stamina... then... oh, that's lovely... yes, please don't stop that.
MICHAEL: I shall engage in calisthenics every morning.
CLAIRE: I'm sure Sydney will be happy to assist. Push-ups, you know. Oh! You are being outrageous, expecting to have both of us. Arrogant! Cocksure! Presumptuous! I never... I am so angry with you... Oooooooh! I am going to kill you, once I've had this climax.
MICHAEL: I'd best draw it out, then.
CLAIRE: If you... do... I'll kill you for that... Oooooooooooooh! Oh, my god, yes, darling...
MICHAEL: I think it's a superb idea.
CLAIRE: Ooooh... tell me after I've... finished... coming... oh, yes, love...
MICHAEL: Pansy can come with me to Munich. No one will be looking for her.
pansy/CLAIRE: She'd... be ever so grateful, sir. Oh, my, god, what are you doing to me with those fingers...
MICHAEL: It's a brilliant plan. Pansy could be of great assistance to me. And she does need a protector.
CLAIRE: A protector? Oh! Are you proposing to be Pansy's pimp?
MICHAEL: I prefer "spymaster."
CLAIRE: Oh! I do like the sound of that. Mmmmm, yes, that's perfect. But she... yes, like that, keep stroking, don't stop, my love... Pansy doesn't have... a passport...
MICHAEL: That sort of thing can be arranged.
CLAIRE: Oh! Yes, yes, like that, yes, yes!
MICHAEL: Remember, keep your voice down, love.
CLAIRE: You'd best be... careful, dearest... or I shall report you to the authorities... ooooh...
MICHAEL: For what?
CLAIRE: Hoarding strategic assets.
MICHAEL: I'll claim diplomatic immunity.
CLAIRE: Devil. You'd be expelled, persona non grata.
MICHAEL: I doubt it. And if the matter were to arise, darling... isn't your brother in the Home Office?
CLAIRE: Presumptuous devil! Oh, my god, yes, please don't stop, my love, don't stop...
MICHAEL: I wouldn't dream of it. But we should make plans. Now, Pansy, will you be a good girl on this trip?
PANSY: Oh, yes, sir. Certainly sir. Whatever you wish, sir... oh, yes... sir... whatever you want, sir... please, don't stop... don't stop... whatever you want...