Mary: Okay, you win. What is it?
Dick: I've realized something. I can't lie to you. I wish I could. It's just not something that I'm good at, like... like actually, I'm good at everything. Can I tell you the truth?
Mary: Why not?
Dick: The real truth is, you're delightful. I love looking into your face. I don't know what it is about you this evening, maybe it's the way the light hits your eyes, maybe it's the wine, but you look puffy. You should go home and sleep. There. Is that better?
Mary: Sadly, yes.
Dick: May I walk you home? And be honest.
Mary: Okay.