[Wimsey and Bunter present their papers to the German border policeman] Border policeman: Ah! An Englischer aristokrat. Lord Peter Wimsey: Put like that, it sounds like an insult. Border policeman: In Germany, it is the people who rule. Lord Peter Wimsey: I see from the paper that there will be elections soon? Border policeman: Ja, it is likely. Lord Peter Wimsey: Chancellor Bruning's emergency powers will be short-lived? Border policeman: You are interested in our domestic politics? Lord Peter Wimsey: If no man is an island, then assuredly no country can be. Border policeman: Except yours, Lord Wimsey. [Harriet calls Peter to talk at a restaurant with a dance hall] Lord Peter Wimsey: Tell me, what's the matter? Harriet Vane: I'm not sure I should. Lord Peter Wimsey: Tell me or tango. Harriet Vane: You know I can't tango! Lord Peter Wimsey: You've no choice then, have you? Miss Burrows: Excuse my saying so, Miss Vane, but given your own terrible experience, I wonder that you should still decide to write the sort of books you do. Harriet Vane: You're saying that anyone with proper feelings would rather scrub floors for a living? Well, I should scrub floors very badly, and I write mysteries rather well. Lord Peter Wimsey: This bowtie is a mess. Bunter: Yes, too perfect. Quite like a made-up affair. [Wimsey pulls off the tie and begins to re-tie it.] Bunter: Ah. Lord Peter Wimsey: Bunter, what does "ah" mean? Bunter: I have observed, my lord, that on the few occasions when our sangfroid slips, it means we have a rendezvous with Miss Vane. Lord Peter Wimsey: Bunter, you have a wonderful gift for impudence. Bunter: Thank you, my lord. [Wimsey finishes re-tying.] Lord Peter Wimsey: Bunter, how's that? Bunter: Perfect. That is to say, slightly flawed. The mark of a true gentleman.