Miles: Look, Dorothy, about the kiss.
Dorothy: What kiss? I didn't see a kiss. Was there a kiss?
Miles: No. And neither of us must speak of it, because it never really happened.
Dorothy: At least it wouldn't have if you hadn't started up with me.
Miles: Me? I did no such thing.
Dorothy: Oh, please. You with your neatly trimmed beard and your flat stomach.
Miles: Oh, and I suppose it was a mere accident that you happen to have the softest lips this side of my mother.