— Does Mr Owen know we've arrived?
— He's not here yet, sir.
— Where is Mrs Owen?
— They were delayed in London, sir. I got a letter. They'll be here for dinner. Eight o'clock, sir.
— We tell the story in Ireland, about the two Englishmen... who were cast away on a desert island for 3 years... and never spoke to each other, because they hadn't been introduced.
— I'm not English! My name is Prince Nikita Starloff. Call me Nicky.
— Well, that breaks the ice, gentlemen. I am Judge Quinncannon.
— How do you do, sir. I'm Dr Armstrong.
— My name is Lombard. Philip Lombard.
— I'm General Mandrake.
— Sir John Mandrake, isn't it General? Some years ago, I was called in consultation. Your wife was ill.
— My wife is dead, sir!
— If you gentlemen will be good enough to follow me, I will show you to your rooms.
— I'm afraid I didn't catch your name.
— Blore.
— Blore?
— William Henry Blore.
— Oh, Philip Lombard.
— I'm afraid you've got the wrong bag!
— You're very observing, Mr Blore. C. M., Charles Morley. An old friend of mine. I like his taste. I even borrow his clothes.