Opening Title Card: What is more amusing or more charming than a girl at the flapper age? That egotistical youth so gloriously confident of never being conquered... so all-wise... so tolerant of the last dull generation of grown ups...
Title Card: How Miss Ethel Hoyt would have resented it if some one had called *her* a flapper - but she was, and that's how all the trouble began.
Mrs. Hoyt: You haven't forgotten that this is your father's birthday?
Ethel Hoyt: I hope father will like his present... I charged it to him.
Mrs. Hoyt: When I was your age, nice girls didn't do that sort of thing.
Ethel Hoyt: You dear, old-fashioned mother, you're just a little behind the times - -- - - that's all!
Mrs. Hoyt: Ethel, those stockings! Why ever will you wear them?
Ethel Hoyt: Shame on you mother - and would you have me go bare-legged?
Ethel Hoyt: You have no idea how annoying it is to have six Harvard seniors in love with you at once.
Ethel Hoyt: [to three admiring Harvard seniors] I'm giving a box party - - just for father. I'm taking him to the theater to see his favorite actor. But I'd just love to have you all come - - if you wouldn't be bored... it's the same old Shakespeare.
Mrs. Hoyt: I tell you, Will, things have come to a pretty pass when girls of eighteen want to educate their mothers.
Mr. Hoyt: Well, just what *is* the matter with her?
Mrs. Hoyt: She has an acute attack of youth, and thinks she'a a beauty.
Mr. Hoyt: Why shouldn't she? The very image of her father!
Mrs. Hoyt: She imagines herself a modern Queen of Sheba, with every man subject to her enchantment.
Ethel Hoyt: My latest triumph over these six Harvard seniors makes me confident that I can win any man in the world. Cleopatra must have felt like that. I wish I knew more of that famous vamp's methods alight I can modestly admit I am not so poor at it myself. I don't think Cleopatra had as much of that *je ne sais quoi* which attracts men as I have.
Ethel Hoyt: Father, please don't be a grouch at the theatre tonight. I've invited some very distinguished college men to join us. They're quite willing to like you, so I do want you to make a nice impression on them.
Mr. Hoyt: Nice impression! On those dancing lizards!
Mr. Hoyt: It's - -it's about my daughter Ethel. Just because a few sapped college boys gum up her afternoons, she imagines every man she meets is crazy about her. She thinks she's a lion-tamer, but, boy, you've got her beat!
Mr. Hoyt: The men she's been running around with are just half portions. You'd be competing with nothing but a field of half-wits.
Title Card: Next afternoon, Mr. Eddison waited at Pierre's for Ethel and the male flapper she was using as a door-mat.
Ethel Hoyt: Really, Mr. Eddison, I'm too tired. Besides, a woman of my age finds very little amusement in dancing. I came here merely to study types.
Ethel Hoyt: Really, Mr. Eddison, for a man immune to feminine charms, you are quite discerning.
Ethel Hoyt: Is it true that actors aren't a bit clever but only seem so because authors write bright things for them to say?
Ernest Eddison: If you want *her* heart busted, get somebody who owns an ice-pick!
Mr. Hoyt: See here, young lady, I've just learned that you've taken up with an actor.
Ethel Hoyt: But he's a friend of yours, old dear.
Mr. Hoyt: Friend or enemy, I don't want my daughter running around with an actor with a past! I could tell you stories about him that would put a permanent wave on the brightest head shining on earth. Anyway, I don't want you running around with him - and that's final!
Ethel Hoyt: All right, papa... But what a life we modern women are forced to lead, with blue laws, prohibition and old fashioned parents.
Nalia McCabe: We've been looking everywhere for the right girl to play the Princess in our 'Sleeping Beauty'. Miss Hoyt is exactly the type.
Ethel Hoyt: I'd love to, only... couldn't you make it a pageant about Cleopatra? I'd feel more at home impersonating Egypt's famous queen. I've made quite a study of her methods.
Ethel Hoyt: I'm so tired, mother... tired of men, and everything.
Ernest Eddison: Why the aloofness, Ethel? Don't you think you're unfair to me? If I thought you cared...
Ethel Hoyt: What do you care to know how much I care to know how much you care?
Ernest Eddison: Ethel, I came to tell you I'm a blackguard, and a cad, and unworthy even to stand in your presence.