On a cold winter morning, an old man sat awkwardly against a wall at Sydney’s Circular Quay Station.I glanced his way for a moment but took him for a beggarand walked on along with the crowds of people hurrying to work.On my way home that afternoon, I saw the same man in the same place, lying on the ground.Two ambulance attendants were kneeling down beside him.This time I stopped.He wasn’t a beggar at all.He was old certainly, but he wore a nice suit and was clean-shaven.And he was seriously ill.
