Longford2006

Lord Longford:
[they meet for the last time on a bench on her prison lawn. He is 92 and struggles to walk; she is 60, ill-looking, and muffled up in overcoat, shawl, and headscarf] Goodness, how well you look!

Myra Hindley:
[smiles fondly] Rubbish! My hair is falling out, and I'm dying of emphysema.

Lord Longford:
Well, you still look wonderful to me!

Myra Hindley:
Well, you're blind.

Lord Longford:
Nearly, yes.