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 rarefied air? I thought you had a better head. He learnt that his sister was privately married—the name or rank of her husband could not be ascertained—and living in retirement in an obscure dwelling in the Borough, where she had given birth to a son. “Am I hurting you?” She asked. ” “You have it,” he declared confidently. “I can only repeat what I said before,” she declared.
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