"Oh, you know," he said vaguely, waving his free hand in the air. "Good, mostly. Sometimes I start to feel like I'm biding my time until we record something again, but good. Really good."
Orsino's hand hit against something small and hard wedged against one of the mallets inside. His hand closed around it and, after a bit of jostling, he came up with a small black box. Smirking up at Don's last comment, Orsino straightened and shut the top of the clesta. He leaned against it and gave Don a hurt look. "Oh, come off it. You know if I decided to kill you I'd get the whole band involved, not just Kirley."
Yes, he was stalling. Why, he didn't know - this wasn't for Don's benefit, surely, and he had asked him here in the first place. This was beginning to feel silly, and Orsino nervously tossed the box between his hands as though it were a cheap trinket he'd just found by chance.