“Of course, my brother.”
A chalk mark.
“Do you love gold?” asked the king, abruptly.
“No, we do not care for gold.”
“Not at all?”
“Not in the least.”
The chalk mark again.
“Nor the white pebbles?” looking at them shrewdly.
“We care for no pebbles at all, white or black,” asserted Bry, beginning to grow uneasy.