Goodbye, Mr. Chips

Katie:
By the way, how do you know she isn't here?

Calbury:
She?

Katie:
The girl the Evening News said you were going to marry?

Calbury:
Oh, yes. I saw that. Me and Penelope Fitzdouglas. Isn't it ridiculous?

Katie:
Sorry, am I going too fast for you?

Chips:
My dear young lady, I could easily go just as fast as you if I cared to risk a broken ankle and be carried back on a stretcher. It's extremely foolish to leap around in a ruined circus like a mountain goat. Especially in those shoes. These stones are treacherous.

Katie:
I'm going to ask Apollo a question.

Chips:
You mustn't ask a personal question, well, not a specific one like uh...

Katie:
Like "Will Bill Calbury come back to me?" No (sighs), I won't bore Apollo with that, I promise you.

Chips:
Did you not hear Miss Bridges ask you to go?

Calbury:
Who are you?

Chips:
It doesn't matter who I am. It only matters that Miss Bridges wishes you to leave her house, and you are, therefore, leaving it.

Calbury:
I've met you somewhere before. I certainly remember that voice.

Chips:
Now here are your stick and hat, and that, as you plainly know, is the front door.

Calbury:
Katie, you...?

Chips:
Straight ahead, please.

Calbury:
That voice. There's something about it. I don't know who you are, but I can guess what you are. You're a school teacher, aren't you?

Chips:
Correct.

Calbury:
I bet you give your boys hell.

Chips:
Only the bad ones.

Headmaster:
Chippings' waiting for his wife, I think.

Sutterwick:
Flabbergasting. Who on earth?

Headmaster:
It's apparently someone he met on one of his excursions to the ancient ruins of Pompeii.

Katie:
I'm so terribly sorry about being late. Chips says it's almost as bad as being off your number.

Headmaster:
I'm afraid I don't quite understand that allusion, Mrs. Chippings.

Katie:
Oh, Mrs. Chippings! I just love when I'm called that.

Headmaster:
And you are that, yes?

Katie:
Oh, yes! Well and truly! Well, unless Chips is a bigamist which I rather suspect. How else could he have escaped...until now?

Katie:
No, the allusion was to the stage which used to be my profession.

Headmaster:
Indeed.

Katie:
Well, not even my best friends would call me that.

Katie:
A soubrette. That's the girl in musical comedy who sings the big number and, in the end, loses the man.

Katie:
In real life, they nearly always end up the wives of earls. I nearly did. But luckily... I met Chips.

Chips:
We must go in, dear. The headmaster always goes in last, and the boys always receive him standing and in silence.

Katie:
Sounds like a dream entrance.

Katie:
The headmaster's a darling. His wife's a b*tch.

Chips:
That's not a word we use here.

Katie:
You should I think.

Ursula:
Oh, but I adore English public schools! I simply worship them all! Even that idiotic Westchester...where you can't ask a boy out to tea without everyone asking the most extraordinary questions.

Katie:
Ursula, darling, you must see the bell tower. And here's your guide (pointing to Herr Staefel).

Ursula:
The bell tower? (realizing Katie's unspoken intention) Oh, yes, of course... the bell tower! (Laughs) Later...

Staefel:
I hope you like early English perpendicular.

Ursula:
Darling, I revel in early English perpendicular!

Chips:
You are William C. Belfridge's ward. Miss Katherine Bridges.

Katie:
Now that's wrong, too. It's not my real name. My real name is... now you won't laugh, will you? It's Brisket.

Chips:
Charmingly Anglo-Saxon.