Why did you follow me this morning? Well, I wanted to know who you were. If you knew I...

Lola aka Cecile: Why did you follow me this morning?
George Matthews: Well, I wanted to know who you were.
[offers her a cigarette; lights it for her]
George Matthews: If you knew I was following you, why didn't you look at me?
Lola aka Cecile: [laughs] You're kidding. You know very well that most of men who follow girls in the street are... sadists, or maniacs, or nuts.
George Matthews: ...or cops.
Lola aka Cecile: Oh, you don't look like a cop.
George Matthews: Do I look like a nut?
Lola aka Cecile: No, not really. But, you understand, I couldn't really tell.
George Matthews: Well, at first when I saw you coming into this tart factory, I was surprised. I wondered what kind of a woman you were. And then I thought, what the hell does it matter, you know.
Lola aka Cecile: If you came here to insult me, you can leave right now. I thought I told you why I was doing this work. But, you don't want to understand. Whether I get undressed here, in this room, in front of you or on the beach, what's the difference? Men look at me in the same way, don't they? In any case, that's the only job I could get without a work permit. Besides, what does it matter? I'm going back to France. I simply needed to, to earn enough money for my return ticket. In three or four days I'll have what I need. I must say, I was completely broke. That's an old story.
George Matthews: That's too bad you're leaving. I, uh, I would have liked to have seen you again.
Lola aka Cecile: Another time. In Paris, perhaps