Is that you, Mrs Partridge?
I'm late for a vital tea dance.
Nanny McPhee is not on our books.
Nanny McPhee is not on anyone's books.
Nanny Whetstone's gone.
There's a surprise. Hurry it up there. Spuds.
Mr Brown's gone to the agency.
I said the children'll be fine with us.
They won't be fine with me.
I won't have them dirty blighters
in my kitchen, and that is that!
I have it in writing. In writing!
- [horrendous cacophony]
- [children shouting]
- Well, that's the final straw.
- There are no more nannies.
None. All over, finished.
I've had to cancel my appointment
and that will cause trouble.
- I told them not to. It wasn't my idea.
- Don't look at me! It's not my fault.
Er...don't do that, darling, please.
That's my sore bit.
You are to...to go to bed immediately.
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