- Irene Hoffa: Say, I can remember once I had a good-time Charlie. And it was all fixed up for Michael to walk in and ask this guy what he thought he was doing with his wife. Good for 5,000 bucks this guy was too. All right. Mike is supposed to walk in at 4:00, and sharp 7:00 he shows up. You can't imagine what I went through those three hours.
- Fred: Yes, I can.
- Irene Hoffa: Well, you're wrong.
- Irene Hoffa: What are you driving at?
- Michael Trevor: Meaning?
- Irene Hoffa: I wasn't born yesterday.
- Michael Trevor: You have a gift for unnecessary remarks.
- Irene Hoffa: Never mind my gift.
- Michael Trevor: All right. We'll never mind all your gifts.
- Michael Trevor: I suppose Paris means something different for everyone. For you, I imagine it means clothes. To Mr. Reynolds, uh, an interlude. Pause between business deals. To your uncle, I daresay it means, uh, change.
- Mary Kendall: And to you?
- Michael Trevor: I don't know. There was a time when it meant everything: gaiety, glamour, adventure. Now...
- Mary Kendall: And now?
- Michael Trevor: Now it's just a place to live - and eat onion soup at 1:00 in the morning. In America at this hour I suppose it would mean chop suey.
- Frank Reynolds: Give me chop suey every time.
- Michael Trevor: Years ago I used to be a - a reporter. After we put the paper to bed at night, we used to stop in at a little place on the corner for chop suey and, uh...
- Frank Reynolds: Foo young.
- Michael Trevor: Foo young. I hadn't thought of that for years.
- Mary Kendall: I suppose living in Paris makes up for not having a bowl of chop suey.
- Michael Trevor: I suppose so. It's not the chop suey you miss. It's what it stands for. Home. America. Friends. Fellows I used to know. Plain things without sauces.
- Irene Harper: You know, when I was getting the dope on them, I had a feeling we were blowing into the wrong end of the horn.
- Frank Reynolds: I wish you'd blow a whistle from now on when you're fooling. I never can tell.
- Mary Kendall: I never want you to be able to tell.
- Irene Hoffa: As far as I'm concerned, there's just one little book we need. That's all. Just one. Good old "Dun & Bradstreet: Who's who, and how much has he got."
- Fred: When you're through with a guy, it's how much did he have, isn't it?
- Irene Hoffa: I manage to get along pretty well.
- Michael Trevor: Bon soir, Marie.
- Hatcheck girl: [Taking his hat and coat] Bon soir, Monsieur Trevor. How is every little thing, big boy? Hotsy-totsy?
- Michael Trevor: Hmm. You're getting on, Marie.
- Hatcheck girl: Thank you.
- Harry Taylor: Paris is certainly a liberal education. Isn't it? I thought I'd seen a lot, but let me tell you. These Frenchmen...
- Michael Trevor: Uh, French.
- Harry Taylor: And how!
- Harry Taylor: There was a little redhead at the Folies-Bergere the other night. And let me tell you...
- Michael Trevor: Ah, yes. I know. I know.
- Fred: These folks want to see all the sights marked on the picture postcards. I'm beginning to think they've been getting the wrong kind of postcards.
- Mary Kendall: Do you know what time the elevator man told me you got in last night?
- Harry Taylor: There's a fortune waiting for any elevator man who can't tell time.
- Michael Trevor: You mean to say that you, uh, don't find even a trace of that 'je ne sais quoi' for which France is so famous?
- Harry Taylor: Not a jenny.
- Michael Trevor: Somehow I, uh, couldn't recall what it was I had forgotten.
- Irene Harper: I hope your fit of aphasia didn't include Harry Taylor.
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