We live in a haunted world. We are surrounded by ghosts. Reminders of past and nearly forgotten days are all about us, things neither alive nor dead from an old world. We see them, but we may not notice. We may not recognize them as ghosts, relics of a nearly forgotten past. The buttons on a man's coat sleeve, which once held his lace cuff out of his soup; the touching of glasses in a toast, which is what we have left from the days when two royal friends would mix a bit of their drinks together to assure each other that no poisoning was going on; the shaking of hands, which was once a way of showing a person we met that we carried no weapon
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