I never discuss love on an empty stomach.

Roger: Well… here we are again.

Eve: Yes.

Roger: You recommend anything?

Eve: The brook trout. A little "trouty" but quite good.

Roger: Sold. "Brook... trout." (to steward) There you are.

Steward: Yes, sir.

Roger: I know. I look vaguely familiar.

Eve: Yes.

Roger: You feel you've seen me somewhere before.

Eve: Hmm hmm.

Roger: I have that effect on people. It's something about my face.

Eve: It's a nice face.

Roger: You think so?

Eve: I wouldn't say it if I didn't.

Roger: Oh, you're that type.

Eve: What type?

Roger: Honest.

Eve: Not really.

Roger: Good. Because honest women frighten me.

Eve: Why?

Roger: I don’t know. Somehow they seem to put me at a disadvantage.

Eve: Because you're not honest with them?

Roger: Exactly.

Eve: Like that business about the seven parking tickets?

Roger: What I mean is, the moment I meet an attractive woman, I... have to start pretending I've no desire to make love to her.

Eve: What makes you think you have to conceal it?

Roger: She might find the idea objectionable.

Eve: Then again, she might not.

Roger: Think how lucky I am to have been seated here.

Eve: Luck had nothing to do with it.

Roger: Fate?

Eve: I tipped the steward $5 to seat you here if you should come in.

Roger: Is that a proposition?

Eve: I never discuss love on an empty stomach.

Roger: You've already eaten.

Eve: But you haven't.

Roger: Don't you think it's time we were introduced?

Eve: I'm Eve Kendall. I'm 26 and unmarried. Now you know everything.

Roger: Tell me, what do you do besides lure men to their doom on the 20th Century Limited?

Eve: I'm an industrial designer.

Roger: Jack Phillips. Western sales manager for Kingby Electronics.

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

Roger: Oops.

Eve: Don't worry. I won't say a word.

Roger: How come?

Eve: I told you. It's a nice face.

Roger: Is that the only reason?

Eve: It's going to be a long night.

Roger: True.

Eve: I don't particularly like the book I've started.

Roger: Aaah…

Eve: You know what I mean?

Roger: Let me think. (pauses) Yes, I know exactly what you mean.

Eve pulls out a cigarette. Roger takes out matches to light it.

Roger: That's my trademark. R.O.T.

Eve: Roger O. Thornhill. What does the "O" stand for?

Roger: Nothing. (lights her cigarette) I'd invite you to my bedroom if I had a bedroom.

Eve: A roomette?

Roger: Nothing, not even a ticket. I've been playing hide-and-seek with the Pullman conductor ever since the train left New York.

Eve: How awkward for you.

Roger: Yes, isn't it? No place to sleep.

Eve: I have a large drawing room all to myself.

Roger: That doesn't seem quite fair, does it?

Eve: Drawing room E. Car 3901.

Roger: Such a nice number.

Eve: It's easy to remember.

Roger: 3901.

Eve: See?

Roger: No luggage.

Eve: So?

Roger: You wouldn't happen to have an extra pair of pajamas, would you?

Eve: Wouldn't I? Incidentally, I wouldn't order any dessert if I were you.

Roger: I get the message.

Eve: 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.