X balked when she so casually said that the car was his. He was having trouble really believing it but hearing her say those words out loud made it a little more comfortable. He puffed out his chest a bit. He, X, was now the proud owner of a Mustang convertible. He very gently put his hand on the hood as if the weight of it would crush the pristine metal beneath his fingers, then he opened it up to peer inside. Everything appeared to be working and up to date.
"Everything appears to be working and up to date. You don't happen to know what year it is, or how much power the engine has?" he asked her hopefully, closing the hood again. Not that it really mattered. X was going to take it, no matter what. "This car is like a dream come true for me. Maybe I should name her after you since you're like this angel of...hope. I could call her Angel, or Holmes. Holmes is a bit more street smart, huh?" He was talking too much again. X, King of the Ramblers.
It might not have been kosher for him to mention her late husband, given the tenuous emotional state of his widow, but X didn't feel right taking the dude's car without acknowledging the great gift that was all because of him. "Your husband must have been a very amazing man. I mean, he had this beautiful car and a beautiful wife. Only a pretty awesome man could have all that!"