” There was never any shortage of bad men to eat, especially with pestilence and superstition to cover their tracks. After he was gone in the morning, Ruth would steal into the study and hurriedly read what he had written the previous night. The amazing tonic of the thought! From time to time she laid her hand upon Spurlock's forehead: it was still cold. The future? He dared not speculate upon that. Her husband was drinking in the tavern with the other guests. 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.
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