Pretty as a picture.
Uh... Dean, I... didn't hear you come in.
I'm not wearing my dancing shoes, so I walk a little softly now. What, you think I was a Chinaman, come to cut your American throat?
What... no hug? Come here.
Dean, I'm getting ready.
You sing like a bird, pop the safe, and we're as through as through can be.
Dean... I just... about tonight, I... I don't know.
I didn't say no. I just said that... I don't think...
You don't know? I ask one simple favor of you, and you tell me "no?" I don't need you - I'll send you back to the farm, worse off than you were, because you'll have seen the Sierra Madre, and had to let it all go. I could have gotten any leggy dame out of Hollywood to get out here and play Sinclair's heart strings. You just happened to be the one I caught, and it was really your own fault, a little too much into the chems and meds, and... Aw, shhh, don't cry. Look, I'm not trying to hurt you. Just one last little job, a little less dirty, a little less messy. He trusts you, Vera. And so do I. After this, I promise you, all those other Holotapes, they'll go away.
Of course, Dean.