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Rope (1948)

2.8s

Kenneth, there's too much air in your glass.

Rope (1948)

4.8s

I admit Janet put the notion in my head, but I never would have mentioned it...

Rope (1948)

2.5s

You've got your sleeve in the celery, Mr. Phillip.

Rope (1948)

3.7s

there doesn't seem to be much point in your staying, Rupert.

Rope (1948)

3.2s

and a pair of seats in the first row is yours for the shooting.

Rope (1948)

5.3s

In any case, I'd rather not hear any more of your... contempt for humanity,

Rope (1948)

5.6s

if it weren't that you seem to be carrying fear of discovery in your pocket.