...so you can visit your mother.
Bye-bye.
Hello, Martha. Guess who?
Bonjour. I'm Dr. Martha Livingston.
Hello. I'm...
...Dr. Martha Livingston.
I....
Excuse me.
I'm a...
...court-appointed psychiatrist.
Thank you.
I believe your Mother Superior's
expecting me?
Dr. Livingston, I presume?
I'm Mother Miriam Ruth.
You needn't call me "Mother."
Most find it uncomfortable.
I'm afraid it brings up
unpleasant connotations.
-So you can call me "Sister."
-Thank you.
You must have tons of questions.
You may smoke.
Just don't tell any of the sisters.
They wouldn't understand.
Especially Marguerite.
She'd scare the pants off
Queen Elizabeth.
Besides, I miss them.
-You smoked?
-Two packs a day.
I can beat that.
Unfiltered.
Well, you have questions.
Fire away.
-Who knew about Agnes' pregnancy?
-No one.
-She hid it?
-She undressed and bathed alone.
-Is that normal?
-Yes.
-And during the day?
-She could've hidden a machine gun.
Did she have any physical exams?
Once a year.
Her pregnancy fell between the visits.
-Who is the father?
-I haven't a clue.
-What men had access to her?
-None, as far as I know.
-A priest?
-Yes, but--
-His name?
-Father Martineau.
-I don't see him as a candidate.
-Was there anyone else?
Obviously, there was.
-You didn't find out who?
-I've done everything but ask Agnes.
-Why haven't you?
-She can't even remember the birth.
-Somebody gave her the baby.
-Yes, 1 0 months ago.
I fail to see how that somebody
has anything to do with this trial.
Why do you think that?
Don't ask me questions.
I'm not the patient.
Well, I'm the doctor.
I'm the one who will decide
what is or is not important.
I don't know how to tell you this,
but I don't approve of you.
-Not personally--
-Psychiatry.
Exactly. I want you to deal with her
speedily and easily.
She won't hold under
cross-examination.
-I'm not the Inquisition.
-I'm not from the Middle Ages.
I know what you are.
I don't want that mind cut open.
Hello.
I'm Dr. Livingston.
I've been asked to talk to you. May l?
Yes.
You have a lovely voice.
No, I don't.
I just heard you.
That wasn't me.
Was it Sister Marguerite?
You're very pretty, Agnes.
No, I'm not.
Hasn't anyone ever
told you that before?
Let's talk about something else.
-What should we talk about?
-I don't know.
-Anything. May I sit down?
-Yes.
The first thing that comes
to your mind.
God. But there's nothing to say
about God.
-Second thing that comes to mind?
-Love.
-Have you ever loved anyone?
-Yes.
-Who?
-Everyone.
-Who in particular?
-Right now?
I love you.
Have you ever loved another man?
Other than Jesus Christ?
-Yes.
-Who?
There are so many.
-Well, do you love Father Martineau?
-Oh, yes.
-You think he loves you?
-I know he does.
-He's told you?
-No, but...
...when I look into his eyes,
I can see.
-You've been alone together?
-Yes.
-Often?
-At least once a week.
-And you like that?
-Oh, yes.
-Where do you meet?
-In the confessional.
-Do you ever see him outside--?
-You want to talk about the baby?
-Would you like to?
-I never saw a baby. They made it up.
-Why should they?
-I don't know.
-Do you remember the night?
-No, I was sick.
-How?
-Something I ate.
-Did it hurt?
-Yes.
Where?
Down there.
-What did you do?
-I went to my room.
-What happened there?
-I got sicker.
-And then what?
-I fell asleep.
-In the middle of all the pain?
-Yes.
-Where did the baby come from?
-What baby?
-The one they made up.
-Their heads.
-That's where they say?
-No, the wastebasket.
-Where was it from before?
-From God.
-After God, before the wastebasket.
-I don't understand.
-How are babies born?
-Don't you know?
Yes, I do, but I want you to--
I don't understand! You want to talk
about the baby, everybody does.
But...
...l never saw the baby,
so I can't talk about it...
...because I don't believe in it.
-Let's talk about something else.
-I'm tired of talking.
Nobody