Branson: Is that all, My Lord?

Robert: It is. Off you go and good luck.

Robert: He seems a bright spark after poor old Taylor. And to think Taylor's gone off to run a tea shop. I cannot feel it will make for a very restful retirement, can you?

Carson: I would rather be put to death, My Lord.

Robert: Quite so. Thank you, Carson.

Dowager Countess: How about some house parties?

Cora: She's been asked to one next month by Lady Anne McNair.

Dowager Countess: A most terrible idea. She doesn't know anyone under 100.

Cora: I might send her over to visit my aunt. She could get to know New York.

Dowager Countess: Oh, I don't think things are quite that desperate. Poor Mary, she's been terribly down in the mouth lately.

Cora: She was very upset by the death of poor Mr Pamuk.

Dowager Countess: Why? She didn't know him. One can't go to pieces at the death of every foreigner. We'd all be in a state of collapse whenever we opened a newspaper. Oh, no. Of course, Mary's main difficulty is that her situation is unresolved. I mean, is she an heiress or isn't she?

Cora: The entail's unbreakable. Mary cannot inherit.

Dowager Countess: No, what we need is a lawyer who's decent and honour bound to look into it. I... I think perhaps I know just the man.