Argyris Liodis, not in the middle of nowhere, without foreign ears present, could call out the names of the six, draw them close, look them in the eye at last, to gain strength and dare to say even a few words about the stark facts.

He did not attempt to say a few words about the stark facts even in belated letters, because in the past whenever he lost heart and wanted to write to them, he ultimately lost heart at the thought of the written paper. He would miss their gazes as soon as they learned, and he had the hope and need to nestle in their eyes.

But for twenty-nine years, six other pairs of eyes had prevented him, all dark copies of the contract with the seven, along with his own, signatures, so that the oath of silence of that night would not be broken.