Pool_2

was power needed, here? Was this a reluctant gathering? A simple word would lay on him like a bludgeon. Price added weight to that impact as the law professors entered. His resonant voice amplified so as to be overheard, the magisterial Mister Price pretended to address Shannon, "If these two eggheads don't help you, let me know. I'll buy two new ones. Ha ha ha." Having made polite mirrored laughs, the two entrants introduced themselves graciously. Price excused himself, in mocked obeisance to the ever Irish Mrs. O'Brien, by reciting Mavourneen, a short and particularly sentimental poem by the so-called terrorist McGuiness. Shannon caught that. It wasn't meant to be subtle, return of favor, a thank you, of sorts, two law professors for one poet. The professors, having no idea of what that drippy rendering really was all about and probably not caring, just let it go by. Gaelic eccentricity. Marcus took it much further. So, what had just happened here? To Shannon, Sean Price made an effort to be gracious and went a bit out of his way to see to it that a project bearing his imprimatur got off to a proper start. But Macaluso's inner beast linked with a speaker, attuned to breathing rate and depth, eye flutter and pupil size, voice tonal qualities and altering resonances, word choices, juxtapositions of manner and phrasing, weight shifts, lip moisture, jaw thrust, head angles, hand postures and simple thumb twitches, tiny wavers, or tremors. Body movement has meaning and masters of speech use it in their art for subterfuge. But to the connected listener, one who's perception exceeds the actor's artifice fastening on the speaker viscerally, tiny details, trifles, peculiarities, minutia were of more significance than the larger theatrical movements. From these, the beast could and did read a steady stream of unconsciously conveyed semaphore. There was sub-text layered under, over, and, behind the spoken conversation. That