Hawkins: When fate takes a hand she sometimes chooses the meanest of instruments for her purpose.

Blake:You can imagine, opening a piano and seeing a thing like that.
Hawkins: A piano? He put her inside a pian. . . ? Are you telling me that whoever killed her put her inside a pianoforte?

Miss Vincent: Reginald's got to read this tonight on the Home Service.
Blake: Well he's bound to have another copy.
Miss Vincent: I don't think he has.
Blake: Well, he's probably learned it by heart.
Miss Vincent: He can't have, it's a modern poem.
Blake: He can make it up as he goes along then.

Hawkins: Bravo. Ha ha. Bravo ladies. Bravo. I don't think I've heard a trio play with such brio.