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I wish that I could have seen either of their faces but both were standing in a manner which did not permit this, but the boy's muffled wails caused me to swoon. "Enjoying the show, Mr. Keats," I heard a voice say just behind me and a hand squeezing my shoulder. When I turned suddemly round I saw that I was face to face with Anton Karswell with a smile illuminating his pale face. It was impossible, I thought. I looked quickly back and saw Karswell still copulating with the youth. It appeared as if Karswell was supporting the youth now and preventing him from just collapsing. The youth's legs were slack but I continued to hear the moans even if they were somewhat energetic. I looked back to where Karswell stood behind me and saw nothing but dark trees standing in silent witness. I consider myself a man of sound mind and reason and do not sway at the nptopn of ghosts but now I felt a slight weakening in legs. This no mere hallucination. Anton Karswell was behind me. He knew my name. She giggles as he puts her down. Turns to the kitchen cupboard, Matt gets out two champagne glasses. Opening the fake stuff bottle, Matt promises her bottles of real champagne as soon as their little one joins them. He fills the glasses and raises his with Martha following his lead. Matt toasts to his promotion to Microga’s new Manager of Corporate Vision. Martha squeals and hugs him, managing a sip of the juice all more or less at the same time. She pulls Matt into the living room to sit while he tells her all about what happened.Matt relays to her almost word for word what happened between kisses and hugs. Even about Peter and him mentioning the bad boss. Matt comments, “And Tim was so good about it, and so Tim. He did not want to know the name, saying from what we told him, he said he would be able to identify him for himself. So there is to be no worry there.”He wanders some from telling Martha about what happened to talk more about Tim. How he has so blossomed, it.
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