“The first to arrive for the lecture, I screwed up my courage and introduced myself to the man I had admired on video. He stepped around the table and shook my hand. “I’m thrilled to meet you in person, Dr. Girard,” I said, hating the cloying formality in my voice. I told myself to lighten up. “I teach ancient history at a junior college in America and I have discussed your work with my students. You were working, I believe, on an excavation in Crete?” “Yes. With Dieter Matt. But no more.” He sa...id it with a finality that told me Dr. Matt and he had had a falling-out. Luc Girard’s face puzzled me. Caramel-colored eyes behind horn-rimmed glasses, a delicate mouth, shaggy hair, and a sparse goatee. He seemed, at once, both formidable and vulnerable. I turned my attention to the items on the table. “I see you have both red-figure and black-figure pottery. Which is older?” Girard walked back around the table and picked up a brick-red vase with black figures around its middle.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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