Kessa’s adviser wanted the gauge staff beneath the table.
“It looks provincial,” he whispered.
She unwound the flowered scarf from its wet lower end.
“The water didn’t provide a ceremonial one.”
Across the room, Felix moved his elegant comparison strip so there was space for her dated readings. He had asked her to speak publicly. Now he looked as though he understood that she might actually do it.
The summit attendant who had tried to direct her to the public benches waited by the door. Outside, she had thanked him kindly and asked where voting delegates put their wet measurements.
He had read her accreditation after that.
Kessa set the staff beside the model.
