[The shot opens on the interior of an elegant sitting room. Fanny Ferrars sits beside Lucy Steele, both sewing]
LUCY: Poor Miss Marianne looked very badly. It frightens me to think I shall never marry.
FANNY: Nonsense! You will marry better than the Dashwood girls.
LUCY: How can that be?
FANNY: You have ten times their sense and looks.
LUCY: But I have no dowry.
FANNY: There are qualities which make up for that, and you have them in abundance. It would not surprise me if you were to marry far and away beyond your expectations.
LUCY: I wish it might be so. There is a man -
FANNY: Ah! I am glad to hear of it. Is he of good breeding and fortune?
LUCY: Oh, both. But his family would certainly oppose the match.
FANNY: Hush! They will allow it as soon as they meet you, my dear.
LUCY: It is a very great secret. I have told no one in the world.
FANNY: My dear, I am the soul of discretion.
LUCY: If I dared tell…
FANNY: I can assure you - I am as silent as the grave.
[Lucy leans in to Fanny’s ear. Lucy whispers, but it is audible enough for the audience to pick it up]
LUCY: Mr John Dashwood.
[The shot cuts to the exterior of a respectable townhouse. There is wild screaming, then the sound of gunshots]