Derek tapped his signet ring on the table four times and let out his big laugh, and the whole table laughed along with him.

Charles opened the black notebook and wrote three lines.

His pencil was a stub, and he printed in small, square letters.

Derek went back to his sandwich.

The room settled into the sound of chewing.

“He does that every single day,” I said.

“It’s a habit,” Charles said.

“Habits keep a man standing where he is.”