Service for Ladies

Mr. Westlake:
And how goes things at the Palace? All your guests quite happy?

Max Tracey:
Oh, much the same as usual, sir. Everyone tends to be pessimistic before dinner and optimistic after dinner.

Mr. Westlake:
And the ladies?

Max Tracey:
The sins of the mothers have become the principles of the daughters.

Max Tracey:
Who's that lady?

Hotel clerk:
210-11-12.

Max Tracey:
But her name?

Hotel clerk:
Robertson. MISS Robertson. Miss Sylvia Robertson. Here with her Pa. Arrived yesterday from Johannesburg. Leaves tomorrow. Destination: the Austrian Tyrol. Age: 20. Unmarried. FEMALE. Is there anything else you'd like to know?

Mr. Robertson:
Confound these French menus. They're Greek to me.

Sylvia Robertson:
[nods toward foreigner] Russian.

Mr. Robertson:
Armenian.

Sylvia Robertson:
Maybe Bulgarian.

Mr. Robertson:
Vulgarian. [chuckles] Whatever he is, he's got whiskers like a goat.

Sylvia Robertson:
Come up then, you Eskimo Romeo.