DIANA ( putting on the coat) : – He's a bit… capricious, isn't he?

THE COAT (silently, but quite theatrically) : – Capricious? Never… only dramatic.

PRÉVERT (taking a word out of his pocket): – Every button deserves its own verse , don't you think?

DIANA (looking at the Peter Pan collar): This velvet… it looks like it’s plotting something.

THE COAT (motionless, majestic ): – He is not plotting… he is waiting for his appearance at the ball.

PRÉVERT (looking out of the window, a smile on his lips): – And in this light, Paris becomes at once city and meadow, theatre and poem.