Episode 1194: No Exit

“I have a plan. A marvelous, marvelous plan!”

And they ran. Quentin and Desmond Collins, leaders of the notorious occult crime family, slipped the surly bonds of the Collinsport Gaol, and headed east for a week-long beach party. Holed up in a hideout within limping range of the lockup, the crafty pair planned their great escape, evading their mutual death sentence for witchcraft and abetting witchcraft, respectively.

Alone against the world, the fugitives remained undiscovered in an old abandoned fishing shack, hidden away from everyone except Quentin’s girlfriend, Desmond’s girlfriend, Quentin’s ex-girlfriend, Desmond’s mother, their accomplice Dr. “Bones” Hoffman, a couple boat captains, a getaway carriage driver, probably some ghosts, and their sworn enemy, the dread warlock Judah Zachery. And it would have worked, too, if it wasn’t for you meddling kids.

As we learned in yesterday’s episode, the desperate scheme goes as follows: Quentin’s macabre moll, the currently late Joanna Mills, arranges for a carriage to pick them up before dawn. Then she explains the plan to her sister Daphne Harridge, the Collins governess, who is still living at the great estate at Collinwood for some reason, despite the fact that her young charge, Quentin’s son, was shipped off to Boston weeks ago.

Daphne will wait until everyone in the house is asleep, especially the villainous Zachery, who is currently doing business as Gerard Stiles, the master of Collinwood. Then she’ll tiptoe her way down to the docks at 3:00 in the morning, slip into the carriage with Quentin, Desmond, and Desmond’s girlfriend Leticia, and the four of them will trot away to freedom.

Admittedly, it’s not an airtight plan; there are several possible points of failure, especially Leticia, who’s very sweet, but not what you might call stealthy. If it was vitally important for you to sneak away from somewhere with the companion of your choice, a noisy mock-Cockney blonde with a penchant for burgundy feather boas and no specific tactical skills would probably not be in your top five.

Still, if the Collinsport police remain as ludicrously useless as they ordinarily are, then there’s a very good chance of getting away with this, as long as everybody stays calm and sticks to the plan.

Which they don’t, of course. This is a soap opera, which puts the kibosh on escape plans for several reasons. For one thing, it would be much more dramatic for the characters to fail in some spectacular crash of circumstance. Next, if you let your main characters pile into a convertible and leave the state, then they can’t be on your soap opera anymore, and you have to find somebody else to write about. And most importantly, people on soap operas need to cluster up into twos and threes and talk to each other, because that fills up the time between Maxwell House commercials.

So here’s how this best-laid scheme goes agley:

Quentin:  What are you doing here? It’s only nine o clock, you were supposed to stay there until everybody went to bed.

Daphne:  I couldn’t stay at the house one minute longer.

Quentin: Is something wrong back there?

Daphne:  No.

Quentin:  If Gerard finds out you’re gone —

Daphne:  I don’t care if Gerard finds out, Quentin. I just wanted to be with you, until it’s time to go.

Quentin:  All right. It’s all right, it’s all right.

Except it’s not all right, obviously; you need to care if your sworn enemy finds out about your secret plans. This is especially true right now, because, as it turns out, Gerard absolutely did find out that she’s gone, and then he found out where she’s going, because he followed her, and he’s outside right now.

But this is basically a date, as far as Quentin is concerned.

Quentin:  You can stay here.

Daphne:  I was sitting in my room, and all of a sudden, I realized that Gerard and I were the only two people in that whole house. I couldn’t stay there, I was frightened.

Quentin:  Ah, now… I promise you, you’ll never have anything to be afraid of, as long as you’re here with me. All right?

And he hugs her, which fixes everything, apparently.

Quentin:  Hey, look at me. I love you. You know that?

Daphne:  And I love you.

Quentin:  When we get to Boston… will you marry me?

Daphne:  You know I will.

And then they make out, because this is a great idea. They’ll go to Boston, which is really not that far away, and they’ll go to a registrar’s office, and say that they’re Quentin Collins and Daphne Harridge, and they’d like to sign some pieces of paper to prove it. I don’t think Quentin fully groks the fugitive lifestyle yet.

Then the camera pans over, and we see that right outside the door, it’s Gerard, who’s followed Daphne and knows all. And that’s yesterday’s cliffhanger, dunn dunn dunn.

Now it’s today’s episode, and what follows is one of the most confounding sequences in the history of Dark Shadows. In today’s teaser, Quentin and Daphne repeat the last third of the previous scene, starting with Quentin saying, “After tonight, you’ll never be afraid of anything again.”

He doesn’t say “as long as you’re here with me”, and Daphne doesn’t say “I couldn’t stay in that house,” or “I just wanted to be with you, until it’s time to go.” They don’t say those lines, because they’re planning to ignore that setup entirely. Daphne is going back to that house, among other destinations, and if you were paying attention to what these characters said yesterday, then that is specifically your problem.

The teaser continues: Quentin proposes, Quentin and Daphne kiss, we see that Gerard is outside, dunn dunn dunn, they roll the theme song, and then the next thing we see is Daphne all the way over at Rose Cottage, on the Collins estate, aimlessly chatting with Leticia.

“Quentin says we can take no more chances of being separated,” Daphne says, and Leticia says, “And he’s right.”

And he is right, so what are you both doing at Rose Cottage? Now you’ll have to make another trip down to the fishing shack, and it’s very likely that you’ll be spotted and followed, and I know that for sure, because the last time you went down to the fishing shack, you were spotted and followed.

“Oh, Leticia,” Daphne gushes, “I’ll be so happy, just to get out of this village!”

So that’s great, we’re on the same page, but why are you hanging around, talking about it? This is pretty much guaranteed to irritate the audience, and that problem will not be resolved in anything like the near future.

“Now, we’ve got to be very careful,” Daphne says, which is maddening. “Joanna’s arranging for a boat, to meet us at the cove at three o’clock.”

This is brand new information. Yesterday, Joanna said she was getting a carriage; did she get a boat, too?

Apparently, she did. “We’ll sail from here,” Daphne continues, “and we’ll go to Boston and pick Tad up there.”

“And then?”

Daphne grins. “Europe. Quentin says we’ll live in Europe!”

Again, this really does not feel like they’ve grasped the concept of fleeing for their lives. Daphne, dude, this is not a honeymoon cruise. Quentin was convicted of murder. “Picking Tad up” is a kidnapping. You are part of a criminal gang now, and you need to get way better at it.

So at this point, the show becomes an interactive audience participation experience.

Daphne:  Now, we can’t bring anything with us. We don’t want anyone to know when we’re going.

Leticia:  Where’s Gerard?

Daphne:  He’s at Collinwood.

Leticia:  Do you have to go back there?

Daphne:  Yes.

Audience:  You do??

Leticia:  Oh, be careful.

Daphne:  I will.

Audience:  Will you??

Daphne:  Quentin’s given me the combination to the safe. There’s money in it… money we’ll need.

Audience:  What? Why didn’t Joanna take care of that, when she said she was making arrangements for the carriage that you apparently aren’t taking?

It’s baffling; there’s a complete disconnect between what they said yesterday and what they’re doing today, including what they said at the beginning of the scene that they just reprised in the teaser. How does that even happen?

Now, in the past, I might have said that they were taping episodes out of order, and things got confused, but in this case, the tape dates are perfectly normal — they taped yesterday’s episode on January 12th, and today’s on January 13th. But the cast delivered dialogue yesterday that is completely contradicted today, and nobody said hey, maybe we should adjust Wednesday’s script to say “boat” instead of “carriage”.

Gordon Russell wrote yesterday’s episode, and Sam Hall wrote today’s, and obviously they know how to coordinate with each other, and figure out what the story is supposed to be from one episode to the next. Russell and Hall have been writing every episode of this television show since September, when Joe Caldwell dropped out, so by now, they’ve been on their own for 92 episodes.

They’re currently trying to wrap up this storyline and at the same time segue into a completely different Parallel Time storyline, and I think you could make the case that today is the day they realized that they don’t have to actually care.

Leticia asks Daphne, “Do you think I can leave, without telling Flora?” And then Desmond’s mother Flora walks in and says, “Telling Flora what?” which is one of those Can’t Let Me Know What scenes that make soap opera viewing so absorbing.

Flora says, “Leticia, I’ve been very patient with you. I’ve been aware for some time that you know where Desmond is.” And the audience says, yes, of course you have; that’s how good these people are at escaping from prison. “But I haven’t questioned you,” she says, “because I thought the fewer people who knew, the better the chances are for Quentin and Desmond.” That is a very good point which at least one of the people involved in this conversation should be keeping an eye on.

Flora says, “I want you to tell me where Desmond is,” and Leticia looks at Daphne and doesn’t say anything, and Flora says, “But I must say goodbye to him! Surely you both understand that!” So I guess Flora thinks the whole “fewer people who know” concept is something that applies to other people.

This is clearly one of those covid Christmas parties that people are planning here in the waning days of 2020, where it’s really important to see your grandparents, because you never know if this is the last Christmas you’ll ever spend together, so you go over to their house and make sure that this is the last Christmas you’ll ever spend together. Naturally, a mother who actually loved her son wouldn’t insist on traipsing down to his hideout and getting him captured, killed, or infected with the coronavirus, but some people really have a hard-on for Christmas, I guess.

Meanwhile, Gerard is up at the castle snapping at his minion, like the sword-and-sorcery evil wizard that he is.

Dawson wants to know why Gerard isn’t informing the police about Quentin and Desmond’s hideout, and Gerard says, “I feel that he has not suffered quite enough. No, I want him to know who his real enemy is. Oh, I have a plan. A marvelous, marvelous plan!”

This plan involves inviting Daphne to play whist with him. She says no.

And then we see both Daphne and Leticia in the Collinwood foyer, consulting the clock and discussing their secret conspiracy. Leticia asks, “Did you find Quentin’s money?” and Daphne says, “No, I was just going to when you came,” which means that Leticia is not just endangering the plan by showing up, but is actively hindering its progress.

“Well, I got so worried about you,” Leticia says, which is not a valid rationale. “Where’s Gerard?” Daphne says that Gerard left, but he’ll be back.

“Well, you better look for the money while he’s gone!” Leticia says, and Daphne actually gasps, and whispers, “Yes, you’re right!” even though she just said she was about to do that twelve seconds ago. Apparently, any interruption drives the plan entirely out of Daphne’s head.

So Daphne goes upstairs to rifle through the community chest, and Leticia strolls into the drawing room, and sits down on the couch. You might imagine that she would at least want to act as a lookout, but that is a thing that she does not do.

In fact, Gerard opens the front door, walks in, hangs up his cloak, crosses the foyer and enters the drawing room, and she doesn’t even notice that he’s there until he stands right next to her and says, “Why, Leticia!” I don’t know what to do with these people.

It’s the same thing all through the episode, with each conspirator lounging around in places where they’re guaranteed to get noticed and questioned. Daphne even takes a mid-safebreaking break to check out if anything is happening in the Parallel Time room, which is none of her business.

Then Flora has the notion that Desmond shouldn’t travel because he’s been wounded and it’s too dangerous, and Quentin has to explain that being caught by the police and beheaded is dangerous as well. Everyone seems to be assuming that Collinsport works like Grand Theft Auto, where you can run around and be reckless, as long as you wait a little while until your Wanted Level drops, and the police stop chasing you.

Finally, we return to Collinwood, where Daphne — presumably laden with ill-gotten gains — just walks into the drawing room, sits down on the couch and stares into space for a while.

“I couldn’t stay at the house one minute longer,” she said in yesterday’s episode, when people acted like functioning characters and not useless plot monkeys. Personally, I’m willing to stay for at least one minute longer, or fifty-one more episodes at the outside, but yeah, I can definitely see her point.

Tomorrow: The Trask Parts.

Dark Shadows bloopers to watch out for:

There’s a very brief fault in the camera at the top of Act 1, which makes the screen flash red when Leticia is saying, “And he’s right.”

Gerard tells Dawson, “May I remind you that I am still in charge here? And if I want the police to continue into this investigation, I shall ask for them!”

Gerard loses track of his line when he says to Leticia, “I’ve even changed you, too. You became somewhat, uh, more…” Leticia answers, “Oh, you’ve changed me, I’ll grant you that,” while he’s still struggling with the rest of his line.

When Gerard tells Leticia there will be a wedding tonight at Collinwood, the dramatic sting comes in too early, before we know what’s so dramatic about it.

Daphne approaches the Parallel Time room doors because she hears a piano playing. When she opens the doors, there’s no piano, and the music suddenly stops.

When Gerard looks through the drawing room doors to see Daphne on the sofa, a crew member pokes his head around the door to look at Gerard.

Behind the Scenes:

Charles Reynolds plays Reverend Johnson in this episode and the next; this is his only appearance on the show. His only other credits on IMDb are an episode of Studio One in Hollywood in 1953, and a role in the 1979 TV-movie Gold of the Amazon Women.

Tomorrow: The Trask Parts.

Dark Shadows episode guide

— Danny Horn

32 thoughts on “Episode 1194: No Exit

  1. I watched this storyline in its entirety for the first time last spring (hey, I had to fill the time with SOMETHING), and I distinctly remember thinking, “Oh man, how is Danny gonna slog through THIS nonsense?” But slogging you are, and highly entertaining you are, and I appreciate you making the last gasps of my favorite TV show of all time palatable.

    1. Which is why I am so grateful that Danny has returned to the blog. We all need to suffer through this together and a dose of humor helps.

  2. I realize I’m confused. Weren’t Samantha and Quentin still married? Didn’t Samantha die like 2.5 seconds ago? How does Quentin know he can marry Daphne? Or is he just trying to get into her pantaloons? We know Samantha is dead, but do Quentin and Daphne?

    Yeah, they’re just trying to wrap this up and no longer care about continuity or even logic.

    1. Yeah, they do know that Samantha is dead, but that doesn’t help much. They’re still wanted fugitives who should have been inventing aliases several episodes ago.

      1. I assume they went with “boat” and not “carriage” because Beery’s done filming and they didn’t want to bother writing around her, so…wait, but she arranged the first boat too…

        Oh, to hell with it.

        But shouldn’t Quentin be worried that they’re going to hang Samantha’s murder on him as well? Of course, at this point he probably doesn’t care, they can only behead him once so let’s go on a whole damn killing spree!

  3. I read somewhere (don’t remember the source) that Sam Hall and Curtis were so busy writing the script for NODS at this point that much of the writing of the 1841 PT sequence fell to Gordon Russell. That’s not surprising, but Russell said he was so done with DS at this point that he secretly hired Violet Wells to ghostwrite some of the scripts. I loved her work in the 1897 storyline, but even she must have had a hard time trying to make 1841 PT interesting.

  4. The faint, faraway shrieking that you all doubtless heard was me, screaming “WHAT IN THE BLOODY HELL!?!” at my computer screen. This episode not only didn’t match continuity with the previous one, it didn’t match continuity with itself. Is there a tally of how many trips between Collinwood and the ol’ shack have been made since the escape? And they’re only NOW remembering that they might need cash? Speaking of which, where is Joanna getting her funding? She keeps hiring boats and carriages and carriages that turn into boats (1841’s incarnation of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang). Someone must be asking for some upfront.

  5. The interesting this about this post–as in the last few, since you came galloping back with flags unfurled–is that you’ve plainly spent more time and creative energy recounting these episodes than Dam Hall or Gordon Russell did scripting them. Which means that you have vindicated that most maligned of arts–criticism–for which I thank you. I did not know 50 years ago that the true end of my unholy attachment to Dark Shadows would be here and now. A Little Hope… as Bela Lugosi’s last wife, Hope, signed her fan letters before marrying the pathetic, drug-addled old man and abusing him unto death.

    1. “Unholy Attachment”… heavy sigh. I suppose it’s a somewhat apt description. Or at least I’ve had some religious psuedo-relatives think of it in those terms back when I was still a teenager.

      I’m behind on reading Danny’s posts. November and December were bad months at work and my 99 year old father passed away few days before Thanksgiving. (It was not covid.)

      Not only am I behind on the posts, I stopped watching the episodes. I’m just not up to watching the slow end of the show but I will watch eventually,

      I’m pretty sure my Unholy Attachment will remain as long as I draw breath. They say we often remember things from our youth even as our minds fail, so it’s possible my final years will be full of Dark Shadows, hopefully in a good way.

  6. We’re currently approaching the end of the 1897 segment at our house. Last week, I’d figured that if we kept watching at the rate we have been, and you keep writing at the rate you had been, we’d catch up to you around episode 1205 or so. It’s my selfish hope that you slow back down to one a week so that we will be able to do that!

  7. I will win no hearts nor earn friends by saying it, but, alone in this as I am, I’ve always had a certain unexplained fondness for the 1841PT afterthought/wrap-up/ghost-limb-after-amputation extension of the show, if only for its brevity and comparative unity and neatness (and I actually liked the pairing of Frid and Parker). Perhaps this entry finally helps me see why.

    The whole 1840 diversion of the show was so impossibly misconceived, from the very conception of a villain who was EITHER a scheming soap-villain upstart named Gerard who couldn’t say his lines or a silent glowering dead baldy named Judah who never really made it clear what he specifically wanted, through the apparent pervasive madness that the Collinwood estate imposes that acquires pretty, dopey brunette governesses and somehow renders them irresistible to hero and villain to the point of readjusting all plot lines around her, to the utter betrayal of Barnabas and Julia as drivers of the action, this was so hopelessly badly imagined and carelessly carried out that an escape to anything, anything at all–a pathetic Dynasty remake, late episodes of Three and a Half Men, a revival of Hullabaloo–would have felt like deliverance itself.

    Here we’re zeroing in on the toss-the-pieces-in-the-air-and-see-where-they-land who-caresery of this forcible ending of 1840, and for me makes the rest look like a return to sanity by contrast. I’m sure we’ll uncover many foolishnesses ahead, but, if the 1841PT story feels more a soap than a horror show, maybe that was Russell and Hall playing to their comparative strengths, and, if it depends more obviously on Brontë and James, maybe that’s good strategy, too–they hadn’t done well with winging it.

    So maybe it was just the undeniable fact that if you stop hitting your head with a hammer, the subsequent headache is a relief. I say bring on the crazed Puritan Louis Edmonds and off-again-on-again crazy Nancy Barrett, Barnabas with. brushed-back hair and another Boys in the Band actor implausibly playing straight. I’m here for it. Just get me out of here!

    1. Michael – I agree! When I decided, while quarantining last spring, that I would watch all of the summer of 70, all of 1840, and all of 1841 PT, I was sure that 1841 PT would be the least bearable. Boy, was I wrong! Simpler stories, interesting characters, gorgeous costumes by Mary McKinley … it was, admittedly, a relief after the nonsense of 1840.

    2. Count me in – I like 1841 PT. I so appreciate the fact that they gave Frid the Heathcliff role instead of Selby. I absolutely adore Jonathan Frid – in all his incarnations – and having him play this non-Barnabas role is a special treat. Love the Bramwell hairstyle – Frid is quite handsome here.

    3. I think 1840 could have been great if it had been carefully planned out in advance. It was too complicated to succeed with their usual improvisational style of writing, and when they were down to two exhausted writers and an executive producer who had checked out, it was doomed to end in this dreary, pointless mess. But there was a tremendous amount there to work with, if they’d had the staff to do that work.

  8. handsomely said, MichaelE. and for me 1841PT was, if not saved, at least brought to partial toleration, by the spirit poured in by Nancy Barrett. Melanie’s finding of herself was what made tune in each day and peer past my scoffing, all those many decades ago.

  9. “They’re currently trying to wrap up this storyline and at the same time segue into a completely different Parallel Time storyline, and I think you could make the case that today is the day they realized that they don’t have to actually care.”

    Indeed. Especially with the looming end of the series.

    There are exactly two possible explanations for the final minutes of the upcoming #1198: 1) This is the product of a writing team that has decided to give exactly zero f—s, or 2) This is the product of a writing team that has thought very carefully about the implications of how 1840 ended in terms of the characters being in an internally consistent timeline, and has teed up a plot line involving a second set of (Barnabas, Julia, Stokes) who “meanwhile in 1970” (in B & J’s case) returned directly from burning PT Collinwood due to the changes in 1840 — the B, J & S Liz clearly thinks she’s talking to.

    I know which one I believe, but I also know which one is more fun to think about.

    1. I do like explanation 2. I never thought of that scenario. But I definitely thank explanation 1 is reality.

      1. The funny thing is that if you go down the road of explanation #2, the result is amazingly coherent. If you use the river delta analogy from my comment an episode or two back, then there is a timeline that starts in the 1790’s, goes up to Julia opening the magic box and through the events of 1840 as changed by the Kaiju Crew, and into the early 1971 we get a glimpse of in #1198. Let’s call this timeline 1840 PTT (Post Time Travel). One can infer a surprising level of detail about what must have happened in the 1840 PTT Dark Shadows timeline for it to be internally (physically and logically) consistent. Here’s more proof of the existence of the 2nd Barnabas in 1840 PTT:

        Assuming that the 1970 B & J return to in #1071 is the one they went into parallel time from (i.e., the Leviathan plot occurred in that timeline), then Barnabas’ second trip to 1796 on his way back to 1969 from 1897 happened in 1840 PTT. It has to have, because both it and the 1840 she travels to are “upstream” from Julia’s 1970 at that point.

        But while Future-Barnabas is changing how Josette dies, 1796-Barnabas is still rattling about somewhere. Maybe he’s having a missed connection with Josette on Widow’s Hill, maybe Oberon roofied him, we just don’t know — the point is, he’s there, and he’s the one who goes into the chained coffin and gets released by Julia in 1840.


        In the 1840 PTT timeline 1796-Barnabas and Future-Barnabas cannot be the same physical body because 1796-Barnabas (to use a Monopoly analogy) goes directly to 1971 Jail, he does not pass 1969 Go, he does not collect $200 1897 dollars. Future-Barnabas from that trip back to 1796 — in the 1840 PTT timeline — has to be the 2nd Barnabas, the Barnabas Liz thought she was talking to at the end of #1198, the one she’s expecting to be at Roger’s speech.


        The funny thing is, until a recent failed exercise in trying to write out a short, concise version of the whole grand and glorious (and useless and pointless) theory, I had never even thought of bringing any of the 1796 time travel trips into it. To have one of them confirm the need for the existence of the 2nd Barnabas like that really surprised me.

        Again, if I didn’t know better I’d think the writers locked themselves in a hotel room with plenty of booze, cigarettes, and room service and hammered all this out to make things consistent in 1840 PTT and tee up the story of how a vampire rabbit got back into its magic 1967 chained coffin hat. If they had, instead of 1840 PT they could have given us a 1921 time travel flashback with the second Barnabas and his Julia and Stokes.

        Not that it had to be 1921 — it could have been any time between 1898 and 1965ish — but think about the possibilities of a Prohibition Era setting with a Film Noir meets Roaring Twenties look and feel. Jerry Lacy doing his best Bogart in a Maltese-Falcon-with-a-spell-on-it plot line. Joel Crothers as a wise-cracking rum runner with a heart of gold and a secret crush on Carolyn Collins, Jamison Collins’ younger wife. Kathryn Leigh Scott as the nanny of little Liz Collins (who is blighted by Jamison’s disappointment that she wasn’t a son). Humbert Allen Astredo as a coven leader by night and head of the local bootleggers…well, I guess also by night. Joan Bennett as the flamboyant owner of the Blue Whale (and the secret speakeasy in its basement). John Karlen as a G-man sent to clean up the Maine coast. Angelique alive and well because she has to be and it must have only been a doppelganger like in #759.

        Sorry to drag you all to my Dark Shadows happy place again, but seriously — think about the sheer joy the cast would have brought to those roles, and the possibilities they would have given the writers to have them make friends, make jokes, and make plot points happen.

  10. I’m working through the Dream Curse now, and I laughed at how you, Danny, dreaded each post (as I’m sure many of us skim/skip the DC-heavy episodes), but it brought out great humour in each post.

    In retrospect, does the pace of the 1840 story seem better or worse? The posts are certainly funny but it feels like there’s less to work with in terms of raw material from the show.

    1. The Dream Curse was terrible, but the larger story at that point was positive — it was a show in a bad phase but ultimately getting better, moving towards the peak of success. The thing that’s been hard in late 1840 is that the story’s about the show disintegrating.

      Probably the biggest gutpunch for the blog was realizing in 1168 and 1169 that Barnabas and Julia would never have any scenes together after that, which meant that the show was going to get a lot worse and never recover. I’d been doing “decline and fall” posts since episode 818, so how much decline and fall can you talk about? That’s why I’ve got a lot planned for 1841PT with the spinoff material, because even if the show goes on autopilot, there are still a bunch of interesting stories to explore.

  11. Reading your posts for each episode as I watch them on their 50th anniversary air date (which were written in 2018), I am so glad you lagged a bit. I really enjoy how you weave in current events and of all years, this year needed your commentary most. What if you had ended on schedule in 2018? Thank you.

  12. It occurs to me that there are no witnesses to Daphne and Gerard’s marriage. Aren’t witnesses a requirement, even in 1840? Or is this one of those ‘soap opera’ things? (More likely it’s a budgetary thing…)

  13. I couldn’t even pay attention to the episode. Quite frankly the only reason I’m even still watching DS is that I’m one that has to finish something once it’s began. Plus I like reading Danny’s blog. Plus, we’re so close to the end now it would be a pity to stop.

    This same evening ABC aired Bewitched episode #215: “Mary the Good Fairy” wherein the Tooth Fairy, a friend of Samantha’s and curiously referred to as “The Good Fairy” stops by to pick up Tabitha’s tooth and ends up get sloshed on brandy, much like the denizens of Collinwood. Mary was played by comedienne Imogene Coca and the episode ends with Samantha taking over Tooth Fairy duties while Mary is passed out. Stay tuned next week for part two.

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