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: Don't let the ghosts and the ghouls disturb you, love. Annabelle Loren
: Darling, the only ghoul in the house is you!
: Who would want to haunt me? Frederick Loren
: I would say any self-respecting male ghost.
: Mr. Pritchard here promises us genuine ghosts. Watson Pritchard
: Seven now. Maybe more before morning.
: Would you adore me as much if I were poor? No, all you want to be is a lovely widow.
: It's almost time to lock up the house and then your party will really begin. I wonder how it will end...
: Wasn't there a man who threw his wife into a wine vat or something? Watson Pritchard
: That was in the cellar. There's been a murder almost everywhere in this house.
: [to Annabelle
] At last you've got it all, everything I had... even my life. But you're not going to live to enjoy it! Come with me, murderess, come with me!
: It's a pity you didn't know when you started your game of murder that I was playing, too.
: Don't stay up thinking of ways to get rid of me, it makes wrinkles.
: I am not such a fool as to hang my wife from the ceiling, by a rope!
Dr. David Trent
: [Nora has encountered the organ that plays by itself and runs screaming through the house
] Did you hear anything? Frederick Loren
: Organ music? Dr. David Trent
: That... and someone walking.
] Frederick Loren
: [on his wife
] She's so amusing.
: Pritchard, I've had enough of your spook talk.
: Do you remember the fun we had when you poisoned me? Annabelle Loren
] Something you ate, the doctor said. Frederick Loren
: Yes, arsenic on the rocks...
] Frederick Loren
: Annabelle, you'd do it again if you thought you'd get away with it, wouldn't you?
[starts shaking up bottle of champagne
] Annabelle Loren
: Why do you always do that? It spoils the champagne. Frederick Loren
: It might explode. Annabelle Loren
: Never does. Frederick Loren
: Can you guarantee that?
[aims champagne bottle at Annabelle
] Annabelle Loren
: That isn't funny, Frederick. Frederick Loren
: Make a good headline, "Playboy kills wife with champagne cork."
: Would you go away for a million dollars tax free
[Annabelle smiles and shakes her head
] Frederick Loren
: . Frederick Loren
: Of course not, you want it all don't you. Annabelle Loren
: I deserve it all, your jealousy isn't tax free and your possessiveness is maddening. Frederick Loren
: If ever a man had grounds for divorce. Annabelle Loren
: But can't prove them.
: And you call this a party? Frederick Loren
: Could be.
: What husband hasn't, at some time, wanted to kill his wife? What husband hasn't had a thousand opportunities to do it in such a way so that he'd never be suspected?
: I am Frederick Loren, and I have rented the house on Haunted Hill tonight so that my wife can give a party. She's so amusing. There'll be food and drink and ghosts, and perhaps even a few murders. You're all invited. If any of you will spend the next twelve hours in this house, I will give you each ten thousand dollars, or your next of kin in case you don't survive. Ah, but here come our other guests.
: It was my wife's idea to have our guests come in funeral cars. Her sense of humor is, shall we say, original? She's so amusing. I dreamed up the hearse, it's empty now but after a night in the house on Haunted Hill, who knows?
: The caretakers will leave at midnight, locking us in here until they come back in the morning. Once the door is locked, there's no way out. The windows have bars that a jail would be proud of, and the only door to the outside locks like vault. There's no electricity, no phone, no one within miles, so no way to call for help. Watson Pritchard
: Like a coffin.
: This is Lance Schroeder, a test pilot. He's no doubt a brave man, but don't you think you can be much braver if you're paid for it? And I happen to know that Lance needs the ten thousand I'm giving, if he's brave enough to stay all night.
: This is Ruth Bridges, you've no doubt read her column in the newspapers. She says that her reason for coming to the party is to write a feature article on ghosts. She's also desperate for money, gambles...
: You've already met Watson Pritchard, a man living in mortal fear of a house and yet he is risking his life to spend another night here. I wonder why? He says for money.
: This is Doctor David Trent, a psychiatrist. He claims that my ghosts will help his work on hysteria, but don't you see a little touch of greed around the mouth and eyes?
: This is Nora Manning, I picked her from the thousands of people who work for me because she needed the ten thousand more than most. She supports her whole family. Isn't she pretty?
: The party's starting now, and you have until midnight to find the house on Haunted Hill.
: [grabs Pritchard by the throat
] What are you doing in here? Watson Pritchard
: Wait! No, wait! Frederick Loren
: What do you mean coming in here? Watson Pritchard
: I didn't want them to take her away! Frederick Loren
: You're drunk! Watson Pritchard
: They will if you don't watch her! Frederick Loren
: You're drunk! Alright, out with it, Pritchard. Why did you come into this room? Watson Pritchard
: I'm the only one that understands. Frederick Loren
: Understands what? Watson Pritchard
: Your wife isn't there anymore. She's already joined them!