He was so close, his features blurred, but she thought he lookedere astonished. It wasn't really a game - how could it be, with no goals, no nets,no properly marked pitch? They were just running and shouting andhaving as good a time as they could in occupied Gromheort. He might be a rich Kauman. - so they can have something pleasant to doshould it turn out that their conversation is not mutually interesting.
In a low voice, he added to hiscomrades, It had better be something good, if they want us to tradespirits for it. In the end, though, she shook her head and took his hand awayagain. When he came back amoment later, smiles wreathed his face. Somebody was lying.
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