"Wanna bet on how many of those slips were deliberate?" Tim challenged, then joined Phil's rueful laugh. "Not all of them were, I got to admit, but most of them."
"But today—apparently because Homer is dying—you've abandoned pretense, come out in the open."
"Not all the way out, not yet. You've still got some shocks coming, Uncle Phil."
"I don't doubt it, you young hoodlum. You were pretty overwhelming there for a few minutes. But why all the mystery? Why not just tell me?"
"You explained why."
"Overwhelming? Are you that terrific?"
"I'm a humdinger, Bub. Think you can stand it now?"
"I think the full blast would be better than any more of your 'gentle' hints."
"That's what you think." Come now, the first shock had been fairly neatly delivered and fielded after all, the concept of difference proposed, established and accepted. "Well, here goes. You remember that spray of flowers I handed you in the car that night?"
"I've had my suspicions about them ever since."