“She’s a wolf. Get it right, crap for brains. Tink’s knickers, you have got to be the stupidest lunker I’ve ever lit on.”
“How’s life?”“That’s the stupidest question I’ve ever heard.”
“I’ve got it!” he declared suddenly, snapping his fingers in triumph. “Take your knickers off.” “What?” Did that mean what I think it did? “Your knickers. You know—panties, underwear, muff-huggers, nasty nets—”
“She’s really not my kind of girl — most of them have tattoos or nose rings — but there’s something about her smile. She smiles like she’s in love with whoever she’s looking at. She smiled at me a few months ago. I’ve been trying to get her to do it again ever since.”
“It’s all right, baby doll, I’ve got you.”
“But you're right-you are an idiot if you thought I ever stopped loving you . . . Mr. Wolfe”