We’d not exchanged words, but his eyes told me a story that my body reacted to in a physical way. I tore my eyes away from his, scanning the room fo... any dark recess, alcove, broom closet… anywhere that might lend even the slightest sense of privacy and as he closed the distance my heartbeat quickened and breath caught in my throat. I’d never had this sort of reaction to a man in a very… very… long time. He stopped just inches from me and I felt a shiver swim my spine and settle explosively. "Oh my, I thought. Angus Sinclair. Martha's Angus. [see "Aftermath"] Still at Wollongong. I got into a pair of chinos and a clean shirt and walked over, considering how small the universe was.There were about two dozen in the audience. The three of us sat towards the rear of the room. A prof introduced Angus. Apparently he'd published a small book every five years. His hair and beard were still ginger, but visibly grey-white. He looked sad."Thank you. I'm glad to be here, and I glad to see. More

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