Her Cardboard Lover

Terry Trindale:
Who shall I say it's from, her lawyer?

Tony Barling:
Lawyer? Hardly.

Terry Trindale:
Well if this were bad news...

Tony Barling:
Do I look like bad new?

Terry Trindale:
Listen, pal, it's happened to me. Did you ever get knocked off your feet? Dizzy? Slap-happy? Hit between the eyes but you couldn't see straight?

Chappie Champagne:
Yeah, once. She had a boyfriend - a prizefighter. Hey, is this a dame?

Terry Trindale:
Dame, Chappie? No, no. She's the most wonderful, the loveliest. I don't know, she's something out of this world! She's way up there, Chappie, like a, like a new moon in the sky.

Chappie Champagne:
Like a cloud, floating by.

Chappie Champagne:
Wait a minute, pal. Lay off. Forget it. Dames like that come out of ice boxes.

Consuelo Croyden:
One thing is obvious, you're mad!

Terry Trindale:
Oh, well, thank you.

Consuelo Croyden:
Impertinent. Talkative. Fresh. Are you honest? I think you are.

Terry Trindale:
So do I.

Consuelo Croyden:
That's good.

Consuelo Croyden:
How much is a secretary paid?

Terry Trindale:
Well, if she's good looking...

Consuelo Croyden:
Oh, stop it! You owe me thirty-two hundred dollars. I'm going to employ you as my secretary for ten weeks at three hundred a week. Now, the debt will be cancelled.

Terry Trindale:
I can't type.

Consuelo Croyden:
You won't have to.

Consuelo Croyden:
Do you go to the theater?

Terry Trindale:
Oh, the theater's nice... anything for a good time.

Consuelo Croyden:
On the stage, the butler brings in a chicken. At least it looks like a chicken, it pretends to be a chicken, but, it isn't a chicken. It's made of cardboard.

Terry Trindale:
What of it?

Consuelo Croyden:
You shall be my cardboard lover.

Terry Trindale:
Oh, company?

Consuelo Croyden:
Oh, yes, Terry, darling. This is Tony Darling, Tony Barling!

Terry Trindale:
I'm not her love, I'm her fate.

Eva:
We women, we're all alike.

Consuelo Croyden:
All of us. Ha-ha. We all run after our own unhappiness. If a woman's been deceived by an inventor and beaten by a Russian, the next man she'll fall in love with will be a Russian inventor.

Chappie Champagne:
Princess, you're a dead pigeon.

Consuelo Croyden:
If ever again I treat you badly...

Terry Trindale:
I know, I beat you.

Consuelo Croyden:
Yes! [Kiss]