"Yes, of course." Even at the worst of times, Edgeworth is capable of working himself up to a truly cutting sardonic drawl; in his voice, now, there's nothing but the bitterest contempt, the harshest condemnation. "All I need is to submit to your ministrations, and I receive as my prize a free car. How marvelous."

He shakes his head. He's gotten himself into the right state of mind; his movements are confident, now, rather than uncertain and nervous like they were before. He reaches down with confidence to grab the handle of his suitcase.

"I've half a mind to take it after all and return it at another lot so that your credit cards are charged some truly staggering fee. Which of you paid for this car?"