"What a time to finish a job."

"Don't care as long as it's over, Ray."

"It's got to be gone midnight."

"It is."

"And a full moon?"

"Gibbous."

"Pardon you."

"Moron. The moon. It's gibbous."

"Says you."

"Says my superior intellect."

"Marred only by your unbecoming modesty, of course."

"Naturally."

"So why we driving home through the Downs, on Hallowe'en, after midnight?"

"Cus it beats sleeping in the car."

"What's that over there?"

"Eh?"

"There. Looks like a woman."

"What?"

"She's hitching."

"Keep driving, Doyle. For God's sake, keep driving."