"A new hobby Mews? Really, aren't you busy enough between our morning philosophical debates and your sonnet writing?"
"Yes, my poetry does keep me busy-and you do keep me on my toes, Quigs. I don't know, I've just been feeling a hint of ennui lately. Perhaps it's the changing of the weather." Mews looks away, takes a breath and sighs. "I feel as if a new hobby might break me out of this spell and offer me a new perspective." Quigley nods and pecks at his tea.
"Indeed, you might join me at my town meetings," Quigley suggests.
"No, no, no. I'm afraid those town meetings would give me an irreversible case of heartburn. No Quigs, a real hobby. Like stamp collecting, or golf. You know, like regular people."
"Golf? Hmm. I've never played. I did almost get pummeled once by one of those little balls mid air. I don't know Mews, you could never be "regular." Mews takes in the scent of his Earl Gray.
"I'll have to give this some thought Quigs. Quite a bit of thought in fact."