I went to the office in the elevator. Robert Cohn was waiting for me. “Hello, Jake,” he said. “Going out to lunch?”
“Yes. Let me see if there is anything new.”
“Where will we eat?”
“Anywhere.”
I was looking over my desk. “Where do you want to eat?”
“How about Wetzel’s? They’ve got good hors d’œuvres.”
In the restaurant we ordered hors d’œuvres and beer. The sommelier brought the beer, tall, beaded on the outside of the steins, and cold. There were a dozen different dishes of hors d’œuvres.
“Have any fun last night?” I asked.
“No. I don’t think so.”
“How’s the writing going?”