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: You can have one of my cigarettes. Clouseau
: Oh, thank you. Maria Gambrelli
: You have it in backwards. Clouseau
: Oh... it tastes very bad that way.
: Tell me, why do so many men smoke afterwards? No wonder tobacco companies get rich.
: And... they were your fingerprints! Benjamin Ballon
: Well, why not? It's my house. I've often been in that closet. Clouseau
: For what reason? Benjamin Ballon
: Last time was moths. Clouseau
: "Meuths"? Benjamin Ballon
: [very clearly
] Moths! Clouseau
: Yes, "meuths." Benjamin Ballon
: Maria was complaining of "murths."
[frowns at himself
: "Meurths"? Is that right, Maria, that - that you were complaining about these "meuths"? Maria Gambrelli
: Yes, I did complain about moths. Clouseau
: Oh, you mean "meuths"!
: [as Clouseau's coat is burning
] Your coat, Monsieur! Clouseau
: Yes, it is my coat.
: Your father played the violin. Not well, but passionitely. He made love the same way.
: Charles, I planned to tell you... I had twins.