"Oh, immensely." Mitch isn't the only one good at lying. Now wasn't the time for literary criticism. Sherlock saved that for his rare moments in a classroom these days. He was faintly annoyed when Maskin doesn't go for the matches right away, but Sherlock knew how to improvise. When the matchbook falls free onto the table, he gives a small laugh and a sheepish grin.

"Ah, jeez, so that's where I left my bookmark." Sherlock takes the book back, not bothering to look at the autograph. "You know what, you hang onto that. It's a nice place, hear they even got import memorabilia these days." He's too pale and polished looking to really look like someone from Brooklyn, but he certainly sounds the part. As for smoking, he jokingly raises his hands in surrender.

"Bad habit, I know, I know. Gotta have one vice in tough times though, right?"