They meet to sell land that they have never shared. A carefully weighted approach: too close, and it will be intrusive; too distant, indifferent. Sustained, concentrated attention, dedicated to the other, is hidden, camouflaged or, conversely, exhibited and deployed. Will there be that élan? Will the action miss its target? What rules will they follow if not those of tact? Rhythm and measure? Old-fashioned when faced with spontaneous movement. They are half-brothers and have become strangers to each other. Hence the clumsiness, the mistakes, all the vain things. The failed attempt that betrays the intention, the over-strong squeeze that hurts the shoulder, the arm or the hand, as if to say “I wish I could tell you.” The gaze that delays and confesses “I don’t know how.” Nothing can be done. Without limits, without warning, a secretion of pain. One of them weeps tears from elsewhere.