"If you can help me, I'll give you some money."
"How much?"
"It depends on how much he hid."
"Maybe you admitted too fast that it was money, Tal. I am noted for my fondness for money. It pleases me. I like the feel of it and the smell of it and the look of it. I'm nuts about it. I like all I can get, maybe because I spent so much time without any of it. A psychiatrist friend told me it was my basic drive. I can't ever have too much."
"If that was really your basic drive, you wouldn't say it like that, I don't think. It's just the way you like to think you are."
She was angry again. "Why does every type you meet try to tell you what you really are?"
"It's a popular hobby."
"So all right. He hid something. Now I've got a big fat disappointment for you. I wouldn't have any idea where he hid something. I don't know what he means."
"Are you sure?"
"Don't look at me like that. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking I do know and I won't tell you because I want it all. Honestly, Tal, I don't know. I can't think what he could have meant."