“I did,” I said, managing a nervous smile.

“Advanced logic and calculus.

Some of my old university texts.

I thought your advanced students might use them.” Hugo looked at the neatly taped box, then back at my face — the gray that had come in fast at my temples, the absence of the bespoke suit, the humility in how I stood.

“You can set them on that table,” he said, nodding at a sorting station.

I carried the box over and set it down carefully, and when I turned back Hugo was still there.