"Of course."
"Well, it's done now," Kerrel said, as though it had ceased to matter.
Shairn picked up one of the musky flowers and tossed it into Kerrel's lap. "Have you forgotten me?" she asked him, with a curious edged sweetness. "I know you. You're a bad loser, and it's no use pretending you're not. Besides, I've seen you this way before. Just what are you meditating in your little mind?"
"Nothing at all, but the usual broad speculations on life. Curious what twists and turns it has. Take today. One man escapes banishment and another, a respected member of our community, incurs it."
"Who?" said Joris, peering sharply at Kerrel as through a fog.
"Arrin."
There was a small silence. Then Shairn said, "But I met him once. He's nice. You can't send him to Thuvis."
"I'm afraid there's no doubt about it. He's one of the Orthist leaders—you didn't know that, did you?" His question was addressed to no one in particular. "We've suspected him for some time, and today he was caught. Odd thing, though. They couldn't find any of his papers." He turned casually to Edri. "Arrin's a friend of yours, isn't he?"
"I know him."
"Oh, come now! You've known him for years."