In unison, the students’ heads swiveled in his direction. Instead of sitting with the rest of the students at the seminar table, he’d taken a seat in a corner of the room off to my left and a little behind me, at my eight o’clock, in a blocky wooden chair beneath a window that looked out onto a depressing expanse of gravelly plowed snow. He would sit in this same chair every Friday for the next fifteen weeks.
