Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

This is serious.
Mr. Beebe! Matches!
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan a stately pleasure dome decree...
E un diavolo incarnato. You know the proverb?
I have a pet theory about Miss Honeychurch.
- So we brought you cornflowers. - Oh, how kind!
It isn't fair! I've probably met them before.
Wasn't I off my head with joy? So I said no, I wasn't.
Perfectly fair if it punishes a snob.
- Your mother would never forgive me. - She'd want you to have it.
No, of course, abominable is too strong a word.
Joy!
- Who? - Sir Harry's new tenants.
It is you! Why not have a comfortable bath at home with hot and cold laid on?
I plead guilty to being such a chap.
I'll let you into a secret. I have my eye on your cousin.
Hello, Mr. Vyse, I've come for tea. Do you suppose I shall get it?
And you're tired of Freddy and me.
Lucy! Lucy! What's that book?
I don't mean exactly that, but you will go on asking questions.
And... I want to ask you a great favor.
In the course of conversazione, they said they wanted a country cottage.
Never heard of it.
I told him to trust to love.
You said you liked cornflowers.
This pensione is a failure. Tomorrow we'll change.
You might before. I can't run at you.
Miss, this sepolcro not very good. You go see affresci di Giotto.
Goodnight, Rose.
as well as in the place from which we've been expelled,
You're so different tonight, like a different person speaking with a new voice.
You see, I come into my money next year.
- Did he? - I needn't say it will go no further.
- The driver? - My dear girl, no. Mr. George Emerson.
Rouse the echoes of the past
They're your type of flowers. They have your personality.
I've won a great victory for the comic muse.
Race you round it!
- What are you reading? - It's from Freddy.
The ticket says Dorking. That was the last station.
I hope he won't gossip.
No Charlotte.
I shall never speak of it to Mother or anyone.
My poor boy has brains, but he's very muddled.
What's the title?
You think his sister is promising?
- Please, I'll deal with them. - Leave them.
If you want me to turn these gentlemen out of their rooms, I will.
So you see, it is all my fault.
- He mustn't get any ideas. - You mean Mr. Emerson?
Cecil... darling.
- All right, Powell, stop at the stores. - Yes, ma'am. Walk on.
The truth is, you don't like Charlotte.
Come and have a bathe!