There was a pint of champagne and a quart of mineral water (both taboo) at his elbow. ’ ‘Yes, but I’m afraid I am far too interested to stop mixing myself in your affairs,’ Gerald said ruefully. 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. He had a flattish, perhaps, it should be called, a flattened nose, and a brown, leathernlooking hide, that seemed as if it had not unfrequently undergone the process of tanning. The young man's imagination suddenly pictured the man as a rock, loosed from its ancient bed, crumbling as it fell. ‘Wait, Jacques! I will find the way to open this. Without whisky," went on McClintock, "your irritability is beyond tolerance.
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