“Hmmph,” Borne said. “Hmmph.” Outsize, hammy acting. Satirical sounds. He also hadn’t made any effort to appear to be reading the sheet, but I knew he had. This was Borne being rude on purpose. “What’s wrong?” “Borne plays the piano. Borne dances. Borne sings. Borne recites poetry. Is that what you want? While I’m doing other, more important things, I guess part of me could do that for you. I guess I could find a way if it’s something you want.” Said in a flat, irritated tone that must have been as much an attempt at learning the inflections of my language as the words themselves.
