- Zafar Younis: Where's Jo?
- Ros Myers: Death by mascara. It was horrible to watch. Ruth's agonizing over the fact that there are no more horses in modern-day warfare. And Adam's on a course learning how to lift his knuckles off the ground, so you'll have to make do with me, I'm afraid.
- Zafar Younis: Shouldn't you be in prison or something?
- Ros Myers: This is the something.
- Harry Pearce: [over dinner with Ruth] Paris.
- Ruth Evershed: New York.
- Harry Pearce: Paris.
- Ruth Evershed: [scoffs] Where's your spirit of Atlanticism?
- Harry Pearce: Where's your spirit of romance?
- [pauses]
- Harry Pearce: I often dream about a big trip. The grand tour of all the great capitals of Europe. Paris, Madrid, Rome, Berlin. Visiting the museums, walking in the streets, sitting in cafes.
- Ruth Evershed: Do some people-watching without a backup team and a surveillance van?
- Harry Pearce: [chuckles] That would be something. Or course it's not a trip to do alone.
- Ruth Evershed: Did you have a particular companion in mind?
- Harry Pearce: Well, it would have to be somebody, uh, whose conversation you enjoyed, yet who understood the need sometimes for quiet. Somebody with a gentle sense of humour. Principled, but not foolish or naive.
- Ruth Evershed: Good qualities.
- Harry Pearce: You don't often find them in one person.
- [Ruth looks down, fiddling with her napkin. Harry refills their wine glasses]
- Harry Pearce: White Burgundy. Thermobaric bombs.
- Ruth Evershed: [sighing] Quite a species, aren't we?
- Malcolm Wynn-Jones: Well, you're a dark horse.
- Ruth Evershed: Sorry?
- Malcolm Wynn-Jones: [whispering] No, no, no. I mean, best of luck to you. I think it's wonderful.
- [softly]
- Malcolm Wynn-Jones: I suppose it was staring us in the face all along.
- Ruth Evershed: Sorry, Malcolm, I've got no idea what you're talking about.
- Malcolm Wynn-Jones: [whispering] You and Harry.
- Ruth Evershed: [faintly] What?
- Malcolm Wynn-Jones: It's pretty impossible to keep a secret in this place. Candle-lit dinners for two, eh?
- Ruth Evershed: [protesting] No, no, no, we, it wasn't...
- Malcolm Wynn-Jones: Good for you. I think you'd make a smashing couple.
- Ruth Evershed: Malcolm, it was nothing, it was to do with work.
- [pauses]
- Ruth Evershed: Please don't say anything. Who else knows?
- [Malcolm pauses and Ruth sighs]