She would sing, but her song was joyless.

She would banter Max and would run imaginary courses with him, taking the part of Calli, and always falling dead at Max's feet; but the moment of relaxation brought a haunting, terrified expression to her eyes.

The corners of her sweet mouth would droop, effacing the cluster of dimples that played about her lips, and the fair, childish face, usually so joyful, wore the mask of grief.

For the first time in her life real happiness had come, not within her grasp, but within sight; and this combat might snatch it from her.
Once when I was helping Max to buckle on his armor for a bout at practice, he said:-- "Yolanda seems to treat this battle as a jest.

She laughs and banters me as if it were to be a justing bout.