Jake: Please, honey. Don't be mad. I'll make it up to you, I promise you. What do you say l pack a picnic basket and we'll drive down to the beach? I'll spread a blanket on the sand, underneath the stars, take you in my arms...
Dorothy: I forgive you. I mean... I mean Blanche should forgive you.
Blanche: Oh, alright. I forgive you. But forget the picnic. I'll get us that blanket.