He wore patched shorts of canvas duck, his legs were brown and muscledand he balanced easily on the hatch coarning on bare feet. Far from being censorious of Shasa's bad temper, Blaine was delightedwith it. Slowlyit grew louder, closer. He was stilldarkly tanned from his training in the mountains and he had allowed hishair to grow out over his collar and his beard to become thick andcurly, adding many years to his age.
Have you boxed before, Flatus? he demanded, and then pulled a wry faceat the disappointing reply. Highabove it rose the Tribune of Honour', the reviewing stand for thetraditional march-past of the athletes. And he thoughtabout how hard it had been to touch that pretty face, the way it hadswayed and dipped just beyond his reach and he felt the frustrationanew. Marcus slapped Moses arm playfully.
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