M. Gillenormand began to pace back and forth, his hands in his pockets, talking aloud, and twitching, with his irritated old fingers, at the two watches which he wore in his two fobs.
The Millennium Falcon dipped closer to the huge city and veered in the directionof its landing platforms, flying past the rising towers and spires that dotted the city'slandscape. In and about these structures cruised more of the twin-pod cloud cars,gliding effortlessly through the mists.
`You're not racing?' the officer asked, chaffing him.
Harry told him. It was a mark of the strength of their friendship that Ron did not laugh.
A ROSE IN MISERY