Father Andrew in our house: by the fireplace; I am making order in my dream folder. "Father Andrew," I say, "I keep dreaming of Boris... he was Greek Orthodox and I almost married him." Father Andrew has his arm about me and we stand cheek to cheek; "But he was also (almost) a homosexual," I say. We laugh and he says something and we stand close together, in the middle of the room; feel very happy. "saved"