"Oh, blazes!"
"Whatever happened to that razor blade you like to keep in your shirt cuff, Holmes?"
"I'm not wearing that particular shirt today, Watson, I had no idea our quarry would tie us up and leave us in an abandoned house! What kind of a Doctor doesn't carry some kind of sharp instrument on his person, anyway?"
"I suppose you'd like me to carry a scalpel in my trouser pocket at all times?"
"It would have been rather handy right now."
"And deucedly painful if I sat the wrong way."
"Small trifles."
"Oh, do be quiet, you're not helping anything, Holmes."
"This is all your fault, Watson. Can't you reach those knots at all?"
"I'm trying – and it is most certainly not my fault! You're the observing machine, you should have seen the footprints in the dust inside the door!"
"I was listening for our quarry, not looking at my feet!"
"Small trifles, Holmes."
"Oh, blazes. Haven't you made any progress?"
"Not yet – my fingers are nearly numb. Can't you try instead?"
"No, my fingers are completely numb. I say, do you smell that?"
"Uh-oh."
"Smoke. They've set the place afire!"
"Oh, blazes."
"Not funny, Watson!"
"It wasn't meant to be funny! You'd better pray this knot loosens up in the next five minutes…Holmes, the floor's getting hot!"
"Oh, blazes!"