And suddenly, right at the end, the plot picks up:
“[Saul] pushed forcefully away from his table; he threw down far too much money; he hurried out of the café, his thoughts whirling.
A woman in a nursing whom who appeared fifty, but whose chart said she was eighty-five? A Hafeem? A disabled Hafeem living in a nursing home? One of his own kind subject to the impertinences of mortals, steeping in her own urine, swaddled and bound in humiliation?
A century of apathy evaporated. He would investigate, and if she turned out to be a Hafeem, he would rescue her.
Never mind that it could be a trap, that this benevolent interest could get him killed. He had no choice.”