“Okay,” I reply.
He might have a compromise in mind. Or an immediate divorce.
Aware of his dubious ways, I arrive a little early in a borrowed car and wait in the dark.
On the way, I had placed a call from a pay booth.
I see his car. He gets out after an inordinate delay. I can see a young woman sitting in the car, waving her hand passionately.
When he comes out of the bar, the hooded man will see that his legs are in plaster for a long time.