Success at Any Price

Merritt:
Wait a minute. I've been on a regular merry-go-round here. I need a little relaxation. What are you doing tonight?

Sarah:
Nothing.

Merritt:
Don't you think it would be rather pleasant to take a little drive and forget about business?

Sarah:
No. I've been expecting this.

Merritt:
Are you a mind-reader?

Sarah:
You're easy. I can tell the way a man looks at me. Besides, you raised my salary and, then again, you never even touched me nor held my hand. Which alone is so unusual it makes a girl suspicious.

Merritt:
Ha-ha-ha. Still one step ahead of me. Well, you've got to give me credit. I don't do this sort of thing often.

Sarah:
Oh, yes you do. I'm your Secretary. I ought to know.

Merritt:
Well, my interests in women is just nervousness.

Sarah:
Well, then, don't get a nervous with me.

Merritt:
Ha-ha-ha, alright. But, I can't help being sorry you are a good woman as well as a good Secretary.

Joe Martin:
I'm on to that guy. Does he ever do anything but gab and drink?

Sarah:
He's terribly busy! You heard him say he was going to a conference.

Joe Martin:
Conference? Blonde or brunette?

Merritt:
What was it you said you wanted?

Agnes:
Money... money, money.

Merritt:
Charming. You're so nice and subtle about it.

Agnes:
I'm too nice to be subtle and you know it. I don't know how to be coy. Besides, you wouldn't like me if I were. If I'm not satisfactory, you can take me off the payroll.

Merritt:
You're just a poor little thing, who doesn't seem to be able to make both ends meet on a thousand a month.

Merritt:
I'm sorry Ray, I do my best. My bank account always seems to be overdrawn. You're a fool to be so generous.

Merritt:
Oh, don't be so morbid. I'll take care of it. I always will. As long as you limit your affections.

Agnes:
Why don't you make it nicer, Ray? Why don't you marry me?

Merritt:
You've got no soul.

Agnes:
Neither have you, you old codfish. That's why we're so well suited.

Agnes:
Aren't there any romantic people in the world? Sometimes I think I'd like something quite different. Something mad and wonderful. A real exciting man to sweep me off my feet.

Merritt:
Try Spain.

Merritt:
Well, you won't make a dream Daddy out of me.

Merritt:
Well, you do pretty well with yourself. You're apt to drive men crazy. That is, if they're a little cracked to start with. I'm still saying... no, let's go on as we are. It may not be perfect, but, it's awfully cozy.

Sarah:
Are you really jealous about me and Mr. Merritt? He's been awfully descent to me and I respect him.

Joe Martin:
Go on, let him have you. I know what's what, you know. It's what it amounts to. He's soft on you and you're eaten it up in a big way. Go on, I don't blame you. Maybe he'll raise you two bucks a week.

Merritt:
Your friend, he's a raving lunatic.

Sarah:
Oh, no he isn't. He's smart. He's ambitious and he feels everyone's against him and he's had a lot of hard knocks and he's bitter about it. He wants to get ahead.

Merritt:
I can't figure out what you see in him?

Sarah:
You don't know him. There's a side to him that other people don't see. He's, he's got a lot of imagination and he's sensitive. He pretends to be tough because things hurt him and he doesn't want to be hurt.

Merritt:
Well, for your sake, I'll take another look at this very sensitive young man. I'm going downstairs to get a rub down. Tell him he can see me there.

Merritt:
Do you know anything about glamour cream?

Joe Martin:
Yeah, I know all about it. Looks like putty and sells for 14 bucks a jar.

Merritt:
Put it on at night. Penetrates the pores of the skin. Works while you sleep.

Joe Martin:
Sounds like something for bed bugs.

Merritt:
It's made from the glandular fluids of real alligators. I've seen them myself.

Joe Martin:
I wouldn't lay that on too thick in the copy. You know, no dame likes to look like an alligator.

Merritt:
I'm going to call your bluff right now, Martin. You think you can write copy? Between now and 8 o'clock you're going to write the copy for one of our most important new clients. If you get away with it, you're hired at 50 a week.

Joe Martin:
Don't be a fool. I haven't changed my mind about him. He's only giving me this chance because he's mushy on you.

Joe Martin:
That lavender water sure gets my nanny.

Agnes:
Take a good whiff.

Joe Martin:
What do you call it?

Agnes:
D'amour.

Joe Martin:
Do you use it all over you?

Agnes:
Well, not exactly. I use other things.

Joe Martin:
Ha-ha-ha, I can just see you in a hot bath with this a'mour stuff.

Agnes:
Oh, that's indecent.

Joe Martin:
Yeah, I heard worse.

Agnes:
Tell me worse.

Joe Martin:
I've been sitting up here trying to think up catch words for the luxury trade. Trying to sell cream to dolls that rub it on themselves. Suddenly, I look up and your standing there. I mean, glamour. This beauty they get for 14 bucks a pot. You're a pot of that scene. It's the stuff that makes poets go cuckoo.

Agnes:
Ha-ha-ha. Go on, your cuckoo yourself.

Joe Martin:
Oh, you don't know what I'm talking about. Your, your not so much. But you look like you stepped out of a little pot of gold. And when I seen you, I seen the whole game.

Agnes:
You know, I could use you.

Joe Martin:
What for?

Agnes:
Oh, just to crack the whip over you. Because your so wild. Because you want to punch people and call them names and walk over them. I could teach you a few things. And if I wanted to, I could make you jump through hoops.

Joe Martin:
You want to try?

Dinah:
Oh, Mr. Martin, Mr. Fisher's been asking for you. He says you take too long for lunch.

Joe Martin:
Why don't you tell him to boil his head for a cabbage.

Dinah:
Oh, I'd like to be in her shoes.

Secretary:
Ha-ha-ha...

Dinah:
Well, I don't see what's so funny about it? My eyes are prettier and as big as hers.

Secretary:
It isn't her eyes, baby.

Joe Martin:
Oh, say, Dinah. How do you like working for Fisher? Any complaints? Funny, I used to have that job myself, you know.

Dinah:
Oh, he's wonderful, Mr. Martin. Mr. Fisher's just lovely to me.

Fisher:
Miss McKay was a very charming girl, Mr. Martin. She belongs definitely in the plus group. Very, very willing. She's been a great help to me, really.

Joe Martin:
Sounds like you've got a regular love nest in there.

Dinah:
Oh, Mr. Martin. It's nothing like that.

Fisher:
Nothing of the kind. But, oh, I wish it were.

Dinah:
Dinah, I congratulate you. At last you're working for a man who's willing to do wrong by you.

Dinah:
Oh, Mr. Martin. You don't suppose I'd said he was lovely to me if he tried anything like that.

Joe Martin:
You never can tell.

Fisher:
Oh, a man's better nature should over balance his lower instincts.

Joe Martin:
Frankly, I don't get this stuff about ethics.

Agnes:
Don't ask me questions. And don't act as if you own me. I can paddle my own canoe.

Joe Martin:
Is there any place in your canoe for me?

Agnes:
Ha-ha-ha. No, I should say not. You're the kind that rocks the boat.

Agnes:
Look, Joe, it's dawn.

Joe Martin:
Yeah. The ole sun comes up when its ready, whether you like it or not.

Agnes:
I guess you'd tell the sun to stand still if you could.

Joe Martin:
Hey, you're almost home. Do I have to leave you now?

Agnes:
Come up to breakfast. But, promise not to be sappy.

Dinah:
Oh, excuse me, Miss Griswold. I guess I shouldn't have talked to you about it. You used to be sweet on him yourself, didn't you? Yeah, well, you should have had your hair blonding. Might have made all the difference in the world.

Sarah:
I'm afraid your right, Dinah.

Agnes:
I like New York. I like noise and parties. And I'd die anywhere else.

Joe Martin:
Sure, all the thoughts in your empty head are jazz and noise.

Merritt:
I've watched you. You're unhappy. Nothings worth taking too seriously.

Sarah:
I don't understand it. Really, I don't. Everybody seems to think love is just a way of passing the time.

Merritt:
Oh, well, that's just New York.

Agnes:
You never trusted me. You never even really bothered to know me.

Joe Martin:
I know you're made out of perfume and whipped cream. You haven't got any heart. You've got a little pile of broken glass where your heart ought to be.

Agnes:
You make up things about me. You have every part of me in a card index, haven't you? The wax face, the jewels. But, that's not me. You're too selfish to see the real me.