The exploding yacht scene (see below), owing to the constraints of the shooting schedule, is made up of shots filmed at various hours of the day, from mid- or late afternoon to dusk, without sequence.
Agatha: Mildred, would you cancel my cab please, dear? With Jenny here, I'm sure I can stay another week.
Mildred: (To Mac.) Cancel her cab, will ya?
Agatha: (Packing up.) Well, I guess I have everything.
Mildred: Yeah, and more. This is mine.
Sally: (In "disguise" as Jenny.) Have you met Mrs. McMillan?
Halsted: No, I ...
Sally: Oh, she is super. So
sophisticated, and so charming, and so ...
Mac: So predictable.
Sally: You know, I think that greed is clouding your personal judgement.
Mildred: Oh, yeah, I'm sure that's right.
Agatha: (Answering phone.) Hello? Just a minute, I'll see if she's in. (Covers phone.) Who's Sarah Farnsworth?
Sally: Only the richest woman in San Francisco.
Mildred: Who's the call for, Agatha?
Sally: Do you really think Roger Thornton killed his aunt?
Mac: (Brushing his teeth.) Rrrrgh.
Sally: My thoughts exactly.
Sgt. Enright: Hey! Something's burning!
Agatha: Oh, that's my girdle. I was just drying it out.
Agatha: And that's the whole reason?
Miguel: That, and the fact that I find you-please don't take offense-physically entrancing.
Agatha: You're kidding.
Mildred: Besides, he's the one you said was a piranha.
Agatha: A hasty judgment. You're just jealous. Miguel is obviously a man of very good taste.
Mac: You have a fascinating mind, Agatha.
Mildred: It kind of runs in the family.
Mac: That's true.
Agatha: No wonder crime's up thirty percent. Nobody wants to make an arrest around here.
Agatha: Why don't you give yourself a title, like Internal Domestic Consultant? Then you can ask for a raise.
Mildred: I don't need a raise.
Agatha: What that child needs is some financial counseling, but what she's going to get is every two-bit fast buck artist in town trying to climb into her bed.
Mildred: As it were.
Agatha: Is, was, were... what's the difference?
Agatha: (Sobbing inarticulately.)
Agatha: (As before.) She's... probably... dead in there...
Mildred: No, Agatha, it's all right. She rallied.
Butler: May I bring you anything, Madam?
Agatha: Bourbon and a twist. Straight up.
Mildred: I appreciate your being with me in my hour of need.
Sally: Aw, Mildred, your Aunt Wilhelmina isn't dead yet.
Mac: Maybe she'll rally.
Mildred: No, I talked to the lawyer. He says it's the end.