- Sir Gerald Courtney: Just see to the aperitifs, will you?
- [Dobbs, the butler, walks out of the frame and returns with a tray upon which is a carafe, presumably containing sherry]
- Sir Gerald Courtney: Dobbs, you're... you're downright Victorian. We must have cocktails, Dobbs, cocktails!
- Dobbs: [horrified] N-not cocktails, sir!
- Sir Gerald Courtney: Yes. Now don't tell me that it isn't British. You're deplorably behind the times. I drink 'em m'self. What's more, I can mix 'em. Mix is the word.
- Dobbs: They tell me they even put *ice* in them in America.
- Sir Gerald Courtney: Yes, well, I don't think we'll go quite that far.
- [first lines]
- First Bobby: [a dark, foggy street in London. Two bobbies are observing a young woman walking along furtively] New one, isn't she Albert?
- Albert, Second Bobby: Must be, or she wouldn't be out on a night like this. No weather for a dog.
- First Bobby: Nor for no cat, neither!
- June: There are two times when no one can advise a man. The first, is when he's drinking too much. The other, is when he loves the wrong woman.
- Sir Gerald Courtney: Does that bar... even a father?
- June: *Especially* a father.
- Sir Gerald Courtney: Nasty night out, eh?
- Russell Courtney: What a fog!
- Sir Gerald Courtney: Yeah...
- Russell Courtney: Thicker than mutton broth.
- [Sir Gerald chuckles]
- Berthine Waller: [to telephone operator - she's trying to call Russell] Whaddaya mean you can't put me through? Pull up your socks, sister, and let's hear that tinkle! Ring 'em! What's that? Well ring 'em again!