“Oop! Excuse me!” A white haired, middle aged man scuttles in past the Nexus guest, hunched over until he’s between a wall and the stranger, the former of which he flattens against and the latter he hides behind. After a second of looking exceptionally conspicuous, he asks, “Did she follow me?” He splutters apologetically before clarifying, “My wife. The shrewd woman with her hair so tight her face is pure white.”