“Is this your relative with the clammy hands, lady?” asked Sarkis. She peered over his shoulder. “Yes.” “Halla, what in the name of heaven is going on?” cried Alver. “Why is this person here?” “And your niece is fifteen, you say?” “She is.” Sarkis shook his head in disgust. “She could fight him without my help.” Halla burst out laughing for the first time since her great-uncle had died.
