"And that's Tommy, he's from London. And over there's Amed--he's from Algeria. Lisa and me are from Copenhagen."Jill stared at him, unable to think of...any reply. The pipe had made the round of the table, and Dizzy was again handing it to her. Well, why not, the naive redhead thought, since it doesn't affect me anyway. She took a deep drag on the hashish-filled pipe, at the same time drawing a few inches away from Dizzy.For several minutes there was no sound in the dim room except the urgent. We both leaned against the wagon, a few feet between us, and watched the crowd flow past in companionable silence.Stalls lined the cobblestone road, and merchants loudly hawked their wares. Farmers drove wagons loaded with their harvest down the crowded street, or shopped at the cheaper merchants, spending as little of their hard-earned cash as possible.The merchants and farmers had a friendly rivalry that balanced their need for each other and their mutual dislike of the nobles. I enjoyed the. More

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