XXVII

      "What do you think of Korasov, eh?"

       He put the newspaper away from his face. He hadn't done that because he wanted to see him only. He did want to catch some air. He had been digging into the information etched in the already folded lots of binded papers on his hand. He dropped it on the table as he did pick up the telephone and tapped some digits in and spoke over it:

       "A cuppa and two cups of cappuccino."

       "Why three cup?"

       The man who was seating before him did seem to have a contention with his decision. Why wouldn't he of course? He was the only one with him in the office. There was no one else. He should be worried. 

     The elder man in fine and boxy suit wielded his face into a