Marwood: Where is he?
Withnail: Sulking up the hill. He says he won't come in for lunch without an apology.
Marwood: Suits me, he can eat his fucking radish.
Uncle Monty: [suddenly appearing at Marwood's shoulder] It's all your fault. You lead him astray.
Marwood: I beg your pardon, Monty?
Uncle Monty: Oh, don't tell me you're not aware of it, I know what you're up to and so do you.
Withnail: [offering him a glass] Sherry?
Uncle Monty: Sherry? Oh dear, no, no, no, I'd be sucked into his trap. One of us has got to stay on guard. He's so mauve, we don't know what he's planning.