I tipped the steward five dollars to seat you here if you should come in.

Is that a proposition?

I never discuss love on an empty stomach.

You've already eaten!

But you haven't.
...

Oh, you're that type.

What type?

Honest.

Not really.

Good, because honest women frighten me.

Why?

I don't know. Somehow they seem to put me at a disadvantage.

Because you're not honest with them?

Exactly.
...

The moment I meet an attractive woman, I have to start pretending I have no desire to make love to her.

What makes you think you have to conceal it?

She might find the idea objectionable.

Then again, she might not.
...

I'm Eve Kendall. I'm twenty-six and unmarried. Now you know everything.

Tell me. What do you do besides lure men to their doom on the Twentieth Century Limited?

I'm an industrial designer.

Jack Phillips. Western sales manager for Kingby Electronics.

No, you're not. You're Roger Thornhill of Madison Avenue, and you're wanted for murder on every front page in America, and don't be so modest.

Whoops!

Oh, don't worry, I won't say a word.

How come?

I told you. It's a nice face.

Is that the only reason?

It's going to be a long night.

True.

And I don't particularly like the book I've started.

Ahhh.

You know what I mean?

Uh, let me think. [Pause] Yes, I know exactly what you mean...
...

Incidentally, I wouldn't order any dessert if I were you.

I get the message.

That isn't exactly what I meant. This train seems to be making an unscheduled stop, and I just saw two men get out of a police car as we pulled into the station. They weren't smiling.