- John Steed: You detect that heady aroma?
- Emma Peel: [snifs the air] Roses?
- John Steed: Money. The sweet, sickly smell of money. The air's heavy with it.
- Emma Peel: The ground is littered with millionares.
- John Steed: And awash with them. Do you suppose there's a collective noun for millionaires?
- Emma Peel: A multi of millionaires?
- John Steed: Tycoonery?
- George Unwin: [after introducing himself to Mrs. Peel] And I hope you enjoy my little shindig, let me know if not, and I'll change the whole decor if necessary. Or even the house, or move the whole thing somewhere else. Paris, perhaps?
- Nathaniel Needle: Yes, Nichols?
- Nicholls: Rathbone was followed. Some woman. Tall, slim, auburn haired...
- Nathaniel Needle: Never mind her attributes, deal with her, quickly.
- Nathaniel Needle: [broadcasting on Channel B] Now someone once said that a man should use his natural born tallents to the full. Do you agree with that?
- George Unwin: [answering by telephone] Yes, yes.
- Nathaniel Needle: [laughing] I'm so glad. Heh, heh. Because you see, I'm a natural born parasite.
- George Unwin: Oh look, Steed, I'm sorry. I should've told you. But I had been murdered four times.
- John Steed: If anything happens to Mrs. Peel, there'll be a fifth.
- John Steed: Who ever heard of a nine-hundred and ninety-nine-thousand, nine-hundred and ninety-nine-anaire?
- John Steed: If it's like Unwin's last party, there'll be three main topics of conversation: money, how to make it and how to hold on to it. It's very dull unless one's income is in the seven figure bracket.