He is the one who shot Adams, ask him.

The old man answered. The writer and his wife are in Biarritz.

And I asked him one question.

Call her up, see if he's alright.

But did he kill 'em? I ask.

Ask them if they're ready.

There's been a frameup. Ask him where the others have gone.

I asked him for the money, and he gave it to me.

I forgot to ask him.

He mentioned a problem.

BENEDICT No. I asked him.

He asked me questions similar to those asked by many others.

And he asked me several questions, of which many were, Why?

They've grilled him three hours.

He asked me what I had bought.

He asked my mother.

Anything wrong? Well, the guy is dead.

He asks about Gauguin again, too.

He already asked me.

He was asking all kinds of questions, and you were answering them.

My other officers may be asking the wrong questions.

Is that where you asked him if he killed Bundy? No.

Ask him. He drove his car home after the hop.

Aha! So, they figured out it's a code problem.

Ask if we can go back.

And I asked him, and he said, Oh, that thing? In the night, I die.

We do know him. You know him, too. We'll ask me how come...

How long did they work on you?

There's no doubt about it.

Everything stopped. They cut off the interrogation just like that.

And then I asked him a question, which I ended up asking to all the dads and ended up really encouraging me to write this story down in a book.

The psychologists asked other people a slightly different question.

I went up to him like any human being would and asked him what was the matter.

What he wrote was his responsibility.

I come to him with all my problems. Here he is now.

That's what they asked me when I came back.

He popped the question, she said yes. It was a very happy ending.

So I posed the question to my graduate student.

No wonder he was arrested.

He responded kindly to the question.

Tonight I'll come and we'll see.

She paid it. Why?

But they do cut down the takings.

And what questions!

And just how do you think he will survive?