I told you, I'm not very bright.

Let's go!

You don't want me, Sugar.

I'm a liar and a phony.

A saxophone player.

One of those no-goodniks you keep running away from.

I know, every time.

Sugar, do yourself a favor.

Go back to where the millionaires are.

The sweet end of the lollipop, not the coleslaw in the face, the old socks and the squeezed-out tube of toothpaste.

That's right, pour it on.

Talk me out of it.

I called Mama.

She was so happy, she cried.

She wants you to have her wedding gown.

It's white lace.

Osgood, I can't get married in your mother's dress.

She and I, we are not built the same way.

We can have it altered.

Yeah, I know you don't.

Osgood, I'm going to level with you.

We can't get married at all.

Why not?

Well, in the first place, I'm not a natural blonde.

It doesn't matter.

I smoke.

I smoke all the time.

I don't care.

I have a terrible past.

For three years now, I've been living with a saxophone player.

I forgive you.

I can never have children.

We can adopt some.

But you don't understand, Osgood.

I'm a man.

Well, nobody's perfect.

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