Mr. Charles: I'm asking you, is it a time to bring my daughter home, four o'clock in the morning? Is it, Mr Haughton? You're a fine specimen. You ruin my daughter, disgrace her parents and then come whining the car broke down.
Mary: But it did!
Mr. Charles: That'll do from you. Hold your tongue.
Mary: But dad, it's the truth.
Mr. Charles: We've heard that story before, eh Mother? But I never expected to hear it in my own home. I thought I'd brought you up to know better than to go gallivanting with the first young waster who took a fancy to you.
Mary: But Father...
Mr. Charles: Be quiet. I've done with you for good and all. As for you, what do you intend to do about it?
Arthur Haughton: Do?
Mr. Charles: Yes. Do. If you think you can play around and ruin a respectable girl and get off scot free just because she happens to work in your nightclub, you've chosen a girl with the wrong father. I'm going to see you do the right thing by her.
Mary: Father, please...
Mr. Charles: Shut up, you.
Arthur Haughton: I, er, I. How much?
Mr. Charles: How dare you? I don't care if you're the son of a millionaire fifty times over. His money won't buy you out of this. You're going to marry my daughter. You'll get a special licence first thing in the morning.
Mary: Father, you can't do that.
Arthur Haughton: Marry? But I can't. My father would...
Mr. Charles: So, you're afraid of your father are you? Alright, we'll see what millionaire Haughton has to say to his son, eh, Mother?
Arthur Haughton: You can't. He's in New York.
Mr. Charles: New York or Timbuktu, it's all the same to us. You're going to marry my daughter.
