Quotes

Ten Little Indians

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Det. William Henry Blore: Now come the alibis! What's yours, doctor?
Dr. Edward Armstrong: I resent that, Blore! I am a professional man!
Judge Arthur Cannon: My dear doctor, that proves less than nothing. Doctors have gone mad before. Judges have gone mad. So have policemen, and, if I may say so,
[smiling at Ilona]
Judge Arthur Cannon: even actresses.
Ilona Bergen: Frequently. In fact, some say the sane ones are in the minority.

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Mike Raven: [At the dinner table] Now how does that old song go?
General Mandrake: My dear sir, what old song?
Mike Raven: Well, you know sir, uh, the old nursery rhyme. "The ten little Indians". There's a copy of the rhyme hanging on the wall in my room upstairs.
Hugh Lombard: That's funny. There's a copy in my room, too.
Ann Clyde: And mine.
Mike Raven: Well then, who's with it? Who's got the first line?
Ann Clyde: Ten little Indians went out to dine, / One choked his little self, and then there were nine.
Mike Raven: That's it. Strictly nurseryville. Then what happened?
Ilona Bergen: Nine little Indians, staying up quite late, / One went away, and then there were eight.
Ann Clyde: There's a copy of the song on the piano in the lounge, too. Mr. Owen seems very interested in little Indians.
Mike Raven: [Scene moves to the lounge. Raven is at the piano, while the General is playing bridge with Miss Bergen, Judge Cannon, and Doctor Armstrong] Eight little Indians travelin' to Heaven, / One met a pussycat, then there were seven. / / Seven little Indians choppin' up sticks, / The chopper finished one of them, and then there were six. / / Six little Indians playin' with the hive, / A bumblebee stung one, and then there were five. / / Five little Indians goin' in for law, / One got Chancery and then there were four. / / Four little Indians feelin' all at sea, / A red herring swallowed one, and then there were three. / / Three little Indians walkin' in the zoo, / A big bear hugged one, then there were two. / / Two little Indians sittin' in the sun, / One gets all frizzled up, then there was one.
Ilona Bergen: [General Mandrake slams something on the table] It's alright, General. He's down to his last little Indian.
General Mandrake: Thank God for that.
Mike Raven: One little Indian boy left all alone, /
[holding his finger to his lips]
Mike Raven: Shh... / So he went out and hanged himself, and then there were none.
General Mandrake: And now, sir, will you be good enough to cease that infernal noise?
Mike Raven: My public - bless them!
General Mandrake: [returning to the game of bridge and bidding] One no trump.

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Hugh Lombard: Drop dead!
Det. William Henry Blore: That's not funny.

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Judge Arthur Cannon: I find it a singular lapse of manners - a house party, and the host the last to arrive!
Mike Raven: It happens.
Judge Arthur Cannon: Not to me, young man.

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Ilona Bergen: How utterly marvelous! You all came to a house party without knowing your host!
Hugh Lombard: Well, what about you, Miss Bergen?
Ilona Bergen: Darling, it happens to me all the time!

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Ann Clyde: I'm Ann Clyde, Mr. Owen's secretary. Did he leave any instructions for me?
Frau Grohmann: No, miss. We want a word with Mr. Owen ourselves when he arrives. They never told us at the agency the size of this place or that we'd have to look after eight guests.
Ilona Bergen: I don't think that's any of our concern. Miss Clyde, shall we join the others?
Frau Grohmann: [under her breath] Bitch.
Ilona Bergen: I think I'll have trouble with Her Ladyship before the weekend's out.

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Ilona Bergen: [entering a silent room of six with Ann Clyde] Oh my dears, you look absolutely stricken.
Ilona Bergen: [weighing up the assembled group] I'm sure you all know the story of the two Englishmen cast away on a desert island who never spoke to one another because they hadn't been introduced!

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Hugh Lombard: SPOILER:
[last lines]
Hugh Lombard: Why did you trust me ?
Ann Clyde: Why did *you* trust me ?
[staring deep into Hugh's eyes]
Hugh Lombard: Maybe it's because of this...
[kisses Ann passionately]

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General Mandrake: [as they are standing/kneeling over a lifeless body] The fellow's intoxicated. Disgusting.
Ilona Bergen: He's dead drunk!
Dr. Edward Armstrong: No, Miss Bergen. Not drunk. Just dead.

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