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: You'll be here too? Phyllis
: I guess so, I usually am. Walter Neff
: Same chair, same perfume, same anklet? Phyllis
: I wonder if I know what you mean. Walter Neff
: I wonder if you wonder.
: I was just fixing some ice tea; would you like a glass? Walter Neff
: Yeah, unless you got a bottle of beer that's not working.
: I'm a native Californian. Born right here in Los Angeles. Walter Neff
: They say all native Californians come from Iowa.
: We're both rotten. Walter Neff
: Only you're a little more rotten.
: Mr. Neff, why don't you drop by tomorrow evening about eight-thirty. He'll be in then. Walter Neff
: Who? Phyllis
: My husband. You were anxious to talk to him weren't you? Walter Neff
: Yeah, I was, but I'm sort of getting over the idea, if you know what I mean. Phyllis
: There's a speed limit in this state, Mr. Neff. Forty-five miles an hour. Walter Neff
: How fast was I going, officer? Phyllis
: I'd say around ninety. Walter Neff
: Suppose you get down off your motorcycle and give me a ticket. Phyllis
: Suppose I let you off with a warning this time. Walter Neff
: Suppose it doesn't take. Phyllis
: Suppose I have to whack you over the knuckles. Walter Neff
: Suppose I bust out crying and put my head on your shoulder. Phyllis
: Suppose you try putting it on my husband's shoulder. Walter Neff
: That tears it.
: I think you're rotten. Walter Neff
: I think you're swell - so long as I'm not your husband. Phyllis
: Get out of here. Walter Neff
: You bet I'll get out of here, baby. I'll get out of here but quick.
: Do you make your own breakfast, Mr Neff? Walter Neff
: Well, I squeeze a grapefruit now and again.
: Neff is the name, isn't it? Walter Neff
: Yeah. Two "F"s, like in Philadelphia, if you know the story. Phyllis
: What story? Walter Neff
: The Philadelphia Story.