Three times he uttered a phrase: "A djinn in a blue-serge coat!" And each time he would follow it with a chuckle—the chuckle of a soul in damnation. S. A sophisticated woman would have translated the tone as a caress. My will is executed, and placed in safe custody. There was a deep groan, and the sound of a fall within. For a while they stood there, silent, motionless, staring at the doorway where still a few strings of the bamboo curtain swayed and twisted, agitated by the Wastrel's passage. "No," replied Jonathan, "I'll not take you at your word, as regards the latter proposition. Vorsack.
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