“Well,” I said. “That was a good thing, too.”
“Sure,” said Harvey. So we sat and thought deeply for a while.
“Have another port?”
“All right,” said Harvey.
“There comes Cohn,” I said. Robert Cohn was crossing the street.
“That moron,” said Harvey. Cohn came up to our table.
“Hello, you bums,” he said.
“Hello, Robert,” Harvey said. “I was just telling Jake here that you’re a moron.”
“What do you mean?”
“Tell us right off. Don’t think. What would you rather do if you could do anything you wanted?”
Cohn started to consider.
“Don’t think. Bring it right out.”
“I don’t know,” Cohn said. “What’s it all about, anyway?”
“I mean what would you rather do. What comes into your head first. No matter how silly it is.”
“I don’t know,” Cohn said. “I think I’d rather play football again with what I know about handling myself, now.”
“I misjudged you,” Harvey said. “You’re not a moron. You’re only a case of arrested development.”