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only be defined negatively - what they weren’t like in other words. And they were neither skin and bones nor obese; neither posh nor vulgar; not too butch nor very petite; too young or too old; not drop-dead-gorgeous nor ugly as sin. Somewhere in between. And certain-ly, they were nowhere near to one of those women who elicit, either with a positive or negative tone, a “where the hell did he find her!” Oh, and none of them smoked either. It was obvious the two of them recog-nized each other. In spite of that, maybe because they hadn’t seen each other for years – except if they had exchanged photos – there was a certain uncertainty about their identity, noticeable with the naked eye and a bit more pronounced with the woman, who was sud-denly arriving, bewildered, into a crowded room, in contrast to the strategically-seated man, who actual-ly monitored just an infinitesimal percentage of those who came through that door. An uncertainty, until of course he gave her a little wave and she, visibly re-lieved, quickly went over to him. They greeted each other with reservation, usually with a handshake. He always ordered his usual. Mint tea. No sugar. Hers was different each time, depending on the person. In our presence any chat whatsoever ceased. It was obvious that they didn’t want us to partake, even in passing, to their conversations, as if they were scared that had we