Walter Neff: The insurance ran out on the 15th. I'd hate to think of you having a smashed fender or something while you're not... fully covered.
Phyllis: Perhaps I know what you mean, Mr. Neff. I've just been taking a sun-bath.
Walter Neff: No pigeons around, I hope.
Barton Keyes: Every month, hundreds of claims come to this desk. Some of them are phonies, and I know which ones. How do I know? Because my little man tells me.
Sam Gorlopis: What "little man"?
Barton Keyes: The little man in here. Every time one of these phonies comes along, it ties knots in my stomach; I can't eat! Yours is one of
them Gorlupis - that's how I knew your claim was crooked. So what did I do? I send a tow car over to your garage this afternoon. And they jacked up that burned out truck of yours, And what did they find? They found what was left of a neat pile of shavings.
Sam Gorlopis: What shavings?
Barton Keyes: The ones you soaked with kerosene and dropped the
match on!