Daphne: Good morning, Dr. Crane.
Frasier: There you are. [holding up a dark sock] What is the meaning of this? Where is his mate?
Daphne: I'm sorry. I don't know what you're talking about.
Frasier: My favorite pair of socks reduced to a single argyle. Nor is this the only example. The keen observer yesterday would have noticed that I left the apartment wearing two shades of black! Explanation, please!
Daphne: I'm sorry, Dr. Crane. I'm forced to do the laundry downstairs, and I guess your socks are just too tempting to the neighbors. Of course, you're welcome to go down there yourself and stand guard.
Frasier: I see. If we had our own washer-dryer, there would be no more lost socks. I will not be strong-armed by threats against my laundry!
Daphne: Suit yourself. I'm off to do a load of your pinks.
Frasier: I don't have any pinks.
Daphne: You will.