Quotes About Peabody

God help the poor mummy who encounters you, Peabody," he said bitterly. "We ought to supply it with a pistol, to even the odds.

Peabody had better retire to her bed; she is clearly in need of recuperative sleep, she has not made a sarcastic remark for fully ten minutes.

God help the poor mummy who encounters you, Peabody. We ought to suply it with a pistol, to even the odds.

What kind of housekeeping do you call this, Peabody?' I pointed out the injustice of the charge in a few brisk but well-chosen words. Emerson mopped his brow. 'Pardon my language, Peabody. It has been a trying morning. And now this!

Peabody believed that in the long run, American investments meant sound investments.

it was a more auspicious time for an American banker than it had been when Peabody

it was a more auspicious time for an American banker than it had been when Peabody was flogging the hated Maryland bonds in the 1830s.

Even in death, Peabody managed to foster Anglo-American harmony.

With Peabody gone, he urgently needed to replenish his capital base

Which was the best I could do, sir, seeing as the motorboat was no use and I'd got to get across the creek somehow. I won't repeat what that Peabody said, because it doesn't bear repeating, but... I said, interrupted a voice with relish, I said I 'adn't been 'ired to row an 'ippo across the creek, and no more I 'ad.

Goddamn Summerset. I've told him to leave my car when I park it. I think he did. Peabody flipped on her sunshades, pointed. It's blocking the drive, see? Oh, yeah. Eve cleared her throat. The car was just as she'd left it, and fluttering in the mild breeze were a few torn articles of clothing. Don't ask, she muttered and started to hoof it down the drive. I wasn't going to. Peabody's voice was smooth as silk, Speculation's more interesting.

Try to look like Peabody. Sorry? Serious, official, yet approachable. You forgot adorable. Peabody is not adorable. She is from my perspective. Besides, I was talking about me.

I think I've just lost five pounds in fear sweat. Peabody mopped at her face. Now I want a cannoli. I don't know why. With a laugh, Roarke shifted to grin at her. I'll buy you a dozen, precious. Cannolis, for God's sake.

You're the husband? the doctor asked with a nod to Roarke. Yes. How is she? Spitting mad—I think she has some very ominous plans for you. And if you happen to be Peabody, you're in on them. She's okay. Peabody let out a gush of air. That's great.

Tag Feeney, Eve ordered when she was behind the wheel. Have him run like crimes in and around London. It would be my honor, Mrs. Lieutenant Dallas Roarke. At Eve's burning look, Peabody only grinned. Sorry. I just had to do it once. I'm over it.

You'll stay in the surveillance vehicle and assist McNab. Any arguments from you, Detective? she said, looking at McNab. No. No, sir, Lieutenant. He patted Peabody on the back. You okay, honey? No honeys! Eve pulled at her hair. There are no honeys on an op, for sweet Christ's sake. Keep it up, just keep it up, and I'm having one of you transferred to Queens.

She was debating calling the lab and pushing for her tattoo when Peabody poked her head in. "We got—Hey, doughnuts." "You'll get yours. What have we got?" "Marc Tuluz. Want him in here or the lounge?" "Here's a puzzler," Eve began. "If we're in the lounge interviewing him, how many doughnuts will be in this box upon our return?" "I'll bring him in here.

Jesus, Peabody." Amazed, Eve slid out into traffic. "You checked out her ass?" "I check out everyone's ass. It's a hobby." "Get a new one. Like . . . bird-watching or something." "Bird-watching? In New York?

The damn hawker nearly caught the bumper." More amazed than angry now, Eve shook her head. "A guy in air boots nearly outran a cop ride. What's the world coming to, Peabody?" Eyes stubbornly shut, Peabody didn't move a muscle. "I'm sorry, sir, you're interrupting my praying.

Well, hell, Eve. If you need to run off to you dressmaker, or take your cat to therapy, Peabody and I can handle this minor matter of murder. Eve lips stretched in a vicious smile. Bite me, Casto.

This piece of shit just propositioned the French detective. What's wrong with my translation program?'' ''Let me have a shot.'' Peabody came around the desk, began to fiddle as she studied the monitor. ''She's very attractive. Let's not blame the computer for trying.

Not like Peabody and her sexual fantasies. I mean, Jesus." "Why that slut. I thought I was her sexual fantasy." Relieved with how he'd played it, she gave him a bland stare as they stepped into the bedroom. "You lead the charge, but apparently Peabody's got the capacity for lots of fantasy partners. Probably all at the same time." "Hmm. Interesting.

You staked him. You actually staked him. It was handy. Let's get those medics in here. I don't want this guy skipping out on multiple murder charges by dying on me. I want to know the minute he's able to talk. I think we're going to get an interesting confession. It's supposed to be the heart. she heard Peabody mutter. It's really supposed to be the heart. Eve blew out a long breath. Keep it up, Peabody, and I may have Mira shrink your head after she's done with the second-rate Dracula

Wine?" Roarke said, lifting the bottle. "No. Jesus." Then she took his glass, and a minute sip. "Pretty good stuff. I'm going to let her string him a little longer. So, want to open another bottle when we get home, and have half-drunk sex?" "I think of nothing else every waking moment." He dropped an arm around her shoulders as they watched Peabody work.