Roger Thornhill is dictating a letter to his secretary, Maggie, as they walk along Madison Avenue.
“-and all your other sweet parts,” he finishes. Maggie grimaces.
“I know, I know,” says Roger, apologetically.
Maggie points with her pencil. “Oh,” she says, “Could we take a cab, Mister Thornhill?”
“What, for two blocks?” he says.
“You’re late, and I’m tired,” pleads Maggie.
“Now that’s your trouble, Maggie,you don’t eat properly,” says Thornhill.
“Alright, Taxi!” shouts Roger. A taxi stops at Madison and East 60th St. A man is about to climb into the car, but Thornhill stops him.
“I beg your pardon,” says Roger, shoving Maggie into the back of the cab,”I have a very sick woman here. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Well, no,” replies the man. “I mean..”
“Thank you very much,” replies Roger, climbing into the cab and shutting the door.
“Perfectly all right,” says the man, puzzled.
“First stop, the Plaza. Don’t throw the flag,” says Roger to the cabbie.
“Poor man,” says Maggie.
“Oh, come, come, come,” says Roger.”I made him a happy man. I made him feel like a Good Samaritan.”
“He knew you were lying,” replied Maggie.
“Ah, Maggie,” says Roger, “In the world of advertising, there’s no such thing as a lie – – there’s only expedient exaggeration. You ought to know that.”
Roger looks at an article in his newspaper. “Say, do I look heavish to you?” he asks Maggie.
“What?” asks Maggie.
“I feel heavyish,” says Roger. “Put a note on my desk in the morning: ‘ Think Thin.’ “
“Think Thin,” repeats Maggie.
“Better make it the Fifty-Ninth Street entrance, driver,” says Roger.
“Okay,” says the cab driver.
“Oh,” says Roger to Maggie,” Soon as you get back to the office, better call my mother. Remind her that we’ve got those theater tickets for tonight. Dinner at Twenty One, seven o’clock. I’ll have had two martinis at the Oak Bar, so she needn’t bother to sniff my breath.”
“She doesn’t do that,” says Maggie.