The woman had dark hair and dark eyes and was swept into his path at the hotel entrance. Namely, they’d bumped into each other by the revolving door. They apologized in unison, both in English. The woman smiled at Endrődi’s awkwardness and looked straight into his eyes. That gaze was full of someone or something from the past, and Endrődi’s knees seemed to buckle as he returned the gaze. She looked familiar, though he was sure that they had never met before.
Her name was Anne, and she had accompanied her husband to the congress. He learned this information from her later, while sitting in the hotel bar. How did they even end up in the bar, and why did they spend hours talking?
Anne liked to play tennis, but she was only an amateur. She and her husband waged huge battles on the court. Her
