Goodfellow: (following Herta with his eyes) A rare wench, to say the least.
Shanks: I got a hunch she's troubled.
Goodfellow: Aren't they all?
Alfred Hitchcock: (Wearing a top hat and carrying a lunch box) Good evening. I hope you don't mind, but I have to eat on the job tonight. We're terribly rushed. But no matter how busy, I think the least one can do is to dress properly. Tonight's supper show is called "The Derelicts." And there isn't much to tell you about it. Naturally, we shall populate our stage with a few delinquents. (He unwraps a sandwich and looks at it's contents.) Rabbit. I could have pulled that out of the hat.
Alfred Hitchcock: (Just finishing up his meal.) As you might expect before Mr. Goodfellow and Mr. Shanks had reached the street, they had walked into the inviting arms of two luscious young ladies. And the current was especially to Goodfellow's liking. But since the ladies were policewomen his enjoyment was, at best, momentary.