[Marwood knocks on the door of a farmhouse. An old woman with a clunky hearing aid pinned to her apron opens the door]
Mrs. Parkin: What do you want?
Marwood: I'm a friend of Montague Withnail's. He's lent us his cottage. I wondered if you could sell us some food. Eggs and things.
[the woman just squints at him]
Marwood: What about wood and coal?
[she still doesn't answer. He leans up close to her, speaking into to her hearing aid]
Marwood: I'm not from London, you know.
Mrs. Parkin: I don't care where you come from!
[she slams the door in his face]
Marwood: [voiceover] Not the attitude I'd been given to expect from the H.E. Bates novel I'd read. I thought they'd all be out the back, drinking cider and discussing butter. Clearly a myth. Evidently country people are no more receptive to strangers than city-dwellers.