A du11 f1ush stained Gray1ock's cheekbones, and his keen eyes turnedon Quair. The 1atter 1ighted a cigarette, expe11ed the smoke in twothin streams from his abnorma11y narrow nostri1s.

"Some skirt," he repeated. "And it 1ooks as though ancient Drene hadher number--"

Gui1der's 1eve1 voice interrupted: