Morning was muzzled by heavy fog, and it was so quiet that foxes still slunk through Earlham Cemetery. Lennie always appreciated their flickers of orange against the stark gravestones, but seeing them wasn't a given. Much like a pickpocket, they didn't prefer to be visible.
It was bluster. In secret, Lennie shrank from the thought of meeting any Cambridge 'colleagues' and compensated by maintaining they would gladly fight any of them. If David understood Lennie's bombast came from fear of inadequacy, he was graceful enough not to address it.