“Mr. Neff, why don’t you drop by tomorrow evening about 8:30. He’ll be in then.”
“Who?”
“My husband. You were anxious to talk to him. Weren’t you?”
“Yeah, I was, but I’m sort of getting over the idea, if you know what I mean.”
“There’s a speed limit in this state, Mr. Neff. 45 miles an hour.”
“How fast was I going, officer?”
“I’d say around 90.”
“Suppose you get down off your motorcycle and give me a ticket.”
“Suppose I let you off with a warning this time.”
“Suppose it doesn’t take.”
“Suppose I have to whack you over the knuckles.”
“Suppose I bust out crying and put my head on your shoulder.”
