And then as we went down you’d try to explain. 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. The weed was all right. I snatched it up, pointed it blindly at him, and fired. ” He strode away and vanished in the gathering fog. The prisoner was then thrust in by Quilt. Wood, regarding her husband with a glance of vindictive triumph. “He fancied that he did,” she corrected him coolly. "He will live," answered Ruth. The gun flew from his hand, clacking on the floor.
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