Eugenides had gazed out the window as if to think about the offer before he reached for his bowl of soup with his left hand and drained it of its contents. Then leaving it there with his cold cup of coffee, he lifted himself easily to his feet, cobbler and fork in tow, then strode over to the man who was about to tell him the obvious, his unfortunate piece of cloak sweeping the floor as he approached.
Then he dumped himself unceremoniously in front of the red-haired man but placed his dish carefully and nicely on his new tabletop. "Try me," he said, shoulders relaxed against the support behind it.