Lord Peter Wimsey: Facts, Bunter, must have facts. When I was a small boy, I always hated facts. Thought they were nasty, hard things, all nobs.Mervyn Bunter: Yes, my lord. My old mother always used to say...Lord Peter Wimsey: Your mother, Bunter? Oh, I never knew you had one. I always thought you just sort of came along already-made, so it were. Oh, excuse me. How infernally rude of me. Beg pardon, I'm sure.Mervyn Bunter: That's all right, my lord.Lord Peter Wimsey: Thank you.Mervyn Bunter: Yes indeed, I was one of seven.Lord Peter Wimsey: That is pure invention, Bunter, I know better. You are unique. But you were going to tell me about your mater.Mervyn Bunter: Oh yes, my lord. My old mother always used to say that facts are like cows. If you stare them in the face hard enough, and they generally run away.Lord Peter Wimsey: By Jove, that's courageous, Bunter. What a splendid person she must be.Mervyn Bunter: I think so, my lord.
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