She was always the last person to exit after the crowds had stampeded, trailing slowly behind them like dust. With delicate touch he rescued all that was possible of them, and made a careful little parcel. 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. ’ Then she ran swiftly out of the library, calling out as her cavalier was almost at the front door.
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