Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Hear, hear. We vote no Miss Bartlett.
Never in the real country like this.
- We're too different. - But I...
Does anyone have any change?
- Cecil! - Thank you.
Sir Harry, beware of these gentlewomen. Only let to a man.
But he's the sort who can't know anyone intimately, least of all a woman.
There's a scene in it - the hero and heroine make love. Do you know about that?
You see here these superb frescoes by Giotto, depicting the life of St Francis.
The time she met Cecil, she drove him quite frantic.
I expect your father has been reading Dante.
How dreadful. How more than dreadful if Mr. Vyse should hear from another source.
- Cecil? - So you can all call in perfect safety.
Because I wouldn't play tennis?
I'm certain that's old Emerson. What are those people doing? Hello!
Yellow dog!
- What a weathercock Sir Harry is. - I hope they're the right kind of people.
I'll come to take you back to town the week after.
For a sovereign.
Yes freddy there is a right sort and a wrong sort
Because...
They're strangers I met in the National Gallery.
- Mr. Beebe. - Don't you remember us?
You see? You talk of coincidence and fate.
Why rush off to the ends of the earth?
- Good gracious! What a mess things are! - Yes.
My father says there's only one perfect view -
how she kept to Schubert when, like an idiot, I wanted Beethoven.
Dear Charlotte, after an awful journey
Father's something of a radical. The son, full of possibilities.
Mr. Emerson?
- I can't. - No discussion.
I'm going to write to our Miss Alans and ask them to take Sir Harry's villa.
Her friend had to return without her. She remained at Monteriano.
Cecil, ask Mary for sandwiches. I'll be with you in a moment.
And then the cry was heard, 'Once more into the breach, my friends.'
Why don't you sit back, make yourself more comfortable? Take this.
Freddy owes me 15 shillings, so it works out all right if you give the pound to me.
I'm sorry.
In fact, he behaved abominably.
We were to see the Arno.
Are you sure?
And some trousers...
and send pretty cards from every place.
Even if you forgive me, I shall never forgive myself... till my dying day.
Oh, look! No, don't look! Poor Mr. Beebe!
Charlotte, please.
As for your loving me, you don't, not really.
Freddy!
No, you don't! You don't know what the word means.
I'll only say things that will make me unhappy afterwards.
No, this isn't the bit. It's further on.
I wish to have a word with you, Mr. Emerson, in the drawing room, please.
You'd love the Miss Alans.
It's true.
So he cried, 'Utter rapture! The silvered twilight, the wraith-like swallows,
Oh!
And she never went back to Weybridge?
No. Lucy said he wouldn't.
- I said no. - What?!
- Toss for it, Honeychurch. - All right.
to slowly gird, to bravely fight, to stoutly dare...
You've always lived among such nice people. You cannot realize what men can be.