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Cosmo shoved the stack of papers back at me, went through the ritual of stoking and relighting his pipe, then puffed and exhaled softly. I knew he was stalling. Cosmo always stalled; he hates to commit himself. If he committed himself, he was fixed with that commitment in time and space, a position Cosmo Leach found intolerable, a position he wished devoutly to avoid. |
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"Well," I grunted, "what do you think?" |
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"Intriguing," he granted, hiding behind another puff. |
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"Is that all you have to say?" It was Cosmo's game and I had to let him play it out. I had been doing so for years. |
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"Tell me, Elliott." (Cosmo always calls me |
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