You observe, constable, that Mr.Hope has the key.

Open the door: open the door, and let us see the meaning of this dreadful crime." "Crime, sir ?" queried the constable, who had heard all that was known from Hope, but now wished to hear what Braddock had to say.
"Yes, crime: crime, you idiot! I have lost my mummy." "But I thought, sir, that a murder--" "Oh, of course--of course," gabbled the Professor, as if the death was quite a minor consideration.

"Bolton's dead--murdered, I suppose, as he could scarcely have nailed himself down in a packing case.

But it's my precious mummy I am thinking of, Painter.

A mummy--if you know what a mummy is--that cost me nine hundred pounds.