Dorothy: Blanche, might I see you a moment?
Blanche: Pardonnez-moi.
Dorothy: Listen, you keep your bloomers on, Scarlett. He's taking me out tomorrow night.
Blanche: But he wants me. I can feel it.
Dorothy: Let somebody else feel it. I saw him first.
Blanche: But we were meant for each other. I'm a woman, he's a man.
Dorothy: And what am I, Little Richard?