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: I've just had a telephone call from your friend Sir Horace. He says he's having trouble with his... his... his piffle valve? Poirot
: Such a valve still has to be invented, Madame. Daphne Castle
: Oh, well I dare say you're right, I wasn't paying that much attention, anyway the result is he'll be 24 hours late.
: Arlena and I were in the chorus of a show together, not that I could ever compete. Even in those days, she could always throw her legs up in the air higher than any of us... and wider.
: Couldn't we make this a private investigation? You know how peculiar people can be about a spot of murder.
: Clean it, clean it. Don't just lean on the thing.
: I was wrong about cherchez la femme. sorry about that. but it's just got be cherchez le fruit.
Arlena Stuart Marshall
: Oh, dear! I'm the last to arrive. Daphne Castle
: Have a sausage. You must be starving having to wait all that time in your room.