Proprietor: [at a fancy restaurant] ... Sir, you asked to see the proprietor? If something's wrong, I'm sure we can straighten it out to your satisfaction.
Morris Frank: I hope so. I'm guided by a dog; she acts as my eyes.
Proprietor: Ah, yes; I've heard about you. You want me to allow dogs into my restaurant. I'm sorry, but I can't do that.
Morris Frank: Why not?
Proprietor: People would be very disturbed at having animals in eating places.
Morris Frank: How about the other folks eating here now? Will they second that, if we go and ask them?
[He turns to speak up, but the owner prevents him from doing so]
Proprietor: Sir - Sir...! I'd rather not have it come to such.
[He struggles to maintain his composure]
Proprietor: The issue is that dogs give off an *odor*.
Morris Frank: Do you smell anything strange?
Proprietor: I smell nothing, sir.
Morris Frank: Neither do I. Come on out, Buddy.
[Buddy emerges from under the table, where she has been hidden the whole time]
Morris Frank: So, my friend, what do you have to say about that? You never knew she was there, did you?
Proprietor: Three words: *No. Dogs. Allowed!* Now KINDLY take your *mutt* and leave, before I call the city pound.
Morris Frank: [with a shrug] Fine. Let's go, Buddy. I know a classier place than this!
[He leaves with Buddy]
