Miss Price

• Children and I don't get on.
• [reading from Professor Browne's letter] "Technically a witch is always a lady except when circumstances dictate otherwise."
• Victory for England, and St. George!
• You see, Colonel, things are not always what they seem to be.
• [after turning the lion into a rabbit] Oh, bother. I do hate shoddy work.

Mr. Browne

• [Mr. Browne takes the Star of Astoroth.] I'll keep it. Women always lose things.
• [An old man is playing dreary music on a piano which he is selling.]
  Oh, Grandpa, you don't expect to sell a piano like that, do you?
• [Mr. Browne is approached by two scantily-clad dancers who take him by either arm.]
  Lovely to see you—goodbye!
• The college, alas, is now defunct.
• Will you please get this child off my leg?
• Observe the fundamental weakness of the criminal mind. You will believe no one or anything.
• It is not what things are; it is what they seem to be. Is that not so, Madam?

...

Stallkeeper: The snippers that clipped old King Edward's cigars.

Mr. Browne: Made in Hong Kong—two bob a dozen, I'd say.

Other

Bookman: Close your mouth, Swinburne!

Mrs. Hobday: Another package from Professor Emelius Browne in London. He sent you a cat last time, did he not?

Charlie: Knock his block off!

Dialogue

[A British army officer's car stops at a junction on a country road where an elderly man is painting over signposts.]

Captain Greer: You there! Which way to Pepperinge Eye?

Elderly Man: Couldn't say, sir—said on the wireless to paint out the signposts in case the Nazis drop in.

Captain Greer: I'm not a Nazi, I'm a British officer!

Elderly Man: …that's what you say if you was a Nazi, isn't it sir?

[Miss Price has just arrived on an old motorbike, emitting blasts of yellow smoke. After she has gone, the two army officers begin to speak.]

Captain Greer: Who is that?

General Teagler: Miss Price—splendid woman. Her late father served with me at Vimy Ridge.

Captain Greer: What's she burning in this thing?—It smells a bit like sulphur.

General Teagler: Nonsense! One can't make a motor fuel out of sulphur!

Carrie: Who else lives here?

Miss Price: I live alone—it suits my purposes.

Miss Price: Supper is at six. You will wash, thoroughly—

Charlie: Wash?!

Miss Price: You will wash yourselves, otherwise there will be no supper, is that clear?

[Miss Price leaves the room.]

Charlie: A house of horrors, that's what we've come to.

[Charlie notices an odd bottle on a shelf in Miss Price's office.]

Charlie: Poisoned dragon's liver?!

Miss Price: Poisoned dragon's liver.

Paul: Do you poison the dragon or just the liver?

Miss Price: It comes prepared. It's part of the school equipment.

Paul: Is this London?

Carrie: 'Course it is. Can't you smell that lovely sooty air?

Mr. Browne: I found the door open, the curtains closed—the house was deserted.

Miss Price: Why on earth would someone do a thing like that?

Mr. Browne: I would say this may have something to do with it… [gestures towards an unexploded bomb]

Miss Price: Merciful heavens! I should be terrified at the very idea of living here.

Mr. Browne: You would have thought so, wouldn't you? I am, by nature, a little bit of a coward—but then I pondered, as I often do: in the perverse nature of things, this diabolical object is probably the best friend I ever had. It has enabled me for the first time in my life to live like a king. Shall we go in?

Charlie: Why d'you keep the curtains closed?

Mr. Browne: So we can enjoy our cheese and wine in the gentle glow of candlelight.

Charlie: I bet it's so the coppers won't catch you hiding out here.

Paul: What is this—a toyshop?

Carrie: No, it's a nursery. Ain't you ever seen a nursery?

Charlie: [to Carrie] No, and neither have you.

[Miss Price is searching in Mr. Browne's library, standing on a ladder attached to a rail on the high shelves.]

Mr. Browne: What's your name?

Miss Price: [disinterestedly] Miss Price.

Mr. Browne: No—I mean your first name.

Miss Price: Eglantine.

Mr. Browne: Eglantine...Eglantine... [He pushes the ladder upon which Miss Price is standing along the rail, startling her.] Oh, how you shine!

Miss Price: [reading from the book she has found at last] Ah! "Substitutiary locomotion. The ancient art of..." [She reads for a few moments in a whisper.] Ah! Here we are: "The spell which creates this force is five mystic words. These words are—" [She pauses incredulously, and turns over the tattered leaves of the book.] ...But the rest of the book is missing!

Mr. Browne: Now you see why I closed down the college.

Mr. Browne: I will cause the bed and all its occupants to disappear.

Bookman: Disappear? I'd like to see a cheap jack entertainer do a trick like that.

Mr. Browne: Cheap jack entertainer. Now that was naughty.

[Miss Price's belongings inadvertently come to life after she recites an ancient magical spell. Mr. Browne begins to dance with a nightdress.]

Miss Price: That's my nightgown!

Mr. Browne: Is it really, my dear?

Miss Price: Yes, and I'm not responsible for its behavior.

Mr. Browne: Obviously not, my dear.

[Miss Price and the children are being held captive in her house by German soldiers.]

Miss Price: Colonel, how would you feel about being turned into a nice white rabbit?

Colonel: Be quiet, please.

Miss Price: Paul, kindly fetch me my notebook from my office.

[The officers restrain Paul in much commotion. Miss Price stands up, points at the Colonel, but cannot remember the correct words to the incantation.]

Miss Price: Filigree, apogee, epigee...!

Paul: That's not a rabbit—that's Mr. Browne, that is!

Miss Price: If you are Mr. Browne, would you kindly get down off my lap?

[Carrie tries on some elaborate jewellery at a market stall and admires herself in a mirror.]

Stallkeeper: Who do you think you are, the Queen of Sheba?

Charlie: Hurt your foot, Miss Price?

Miss Price: Oh, just twisted my ankle.

Charlie: Sorry to hear that.

Miss Price: Thank you. It's nothing serious.

Charlie: Lovely weather for flying last night.

[heavy pause]

Miss Price: Why did you say that, Charles?

Charlie: [bringing out her broken broomstick] Game's up, Miss Price. We know what you are.