Colonel Blount: Don't think me discourteous, but I'm afraid it's impossible for me to ask you to luncheon. I have a guest coming on intimate family business. It's some young rascal who wants to marry my daughter.
Adam Fenwick-Symes: Well, I want to marry your daughter too.
Colonel Blount: What an extraordinary thing. Are you sure?
Ginger Littlejohn: What I'm about to say is that what I'm about to say may sound unpleasant, y'know, and all that, but look here, y'know, dammit. I mean, the better man has won. Not, um, that I'm saying that I'm the better man, I wouldn't say that for a moment, awful bad luck on you and all but still, when you come to think of it I mean look here, y'know. Dammit. Do you see what I mean?
Adam Fenwick-Symes: I say, this could be rather fun. I could even make up fashions. If I can't get Archie Shwert to wear suede shoes within a month, you can call me Diedre in public.
Nina Blount: Yellow suede shoes.
Adam Fenwick-Symes: Oh, Nina darling! You are a genius! And green bowler hats.
Adam Fenwick-Symes: Good afternoon. Is Mr Blount in?
Colonel Blount: There's no Mr Blount here. This is Colonel Blount's house.
Adam Fenwick-Symes: I'm sorry. I think the colonel is expecting me to lunch.
Colonel Blount: Nonsense! I'm Colonel Blount.
Lottie Crump: Let me introduce you. That's Mr What's-his-name, and over there in the corner, that's the major... that's an American judge, and there's the King of Pomerania.
King of Anatolia: Anatolia, actually. But, alas, no more.
