And, if I could continue to explain everything that I know, your ears would lose the otiose air they wear now—
“Say the Greeks. And, if I could continue to explain everything that I know, your ears would lose the otiose air they wear now—You have, dont interrupt me, listen—”
“Otiose! A word for the Chief Inspector Char-lot, dear Henri!”
The French detective story writer’s not interested in my otiose, or my odious nuther, but I’m trying to give you a stylish reproduction of how we talked and what was going on.
