"It's a great world," was the manager's greeting. ” John gestured. 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. His sword-arm fell useless at his side and she knew herself safe. This queer father of hers had given her everything but his arms. And who knew if the men that Gerald had posted there would follow her to protect her somewhere else? In truth, where were these soldiers? She could not see them, although she assiduously searched the mist-shrouded square from the vantage point of the bay window in the large first floor room which had become her headquarters. He trembled violently. A bad man, in fact.
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