In the recess beside the fireplace were some open bookshelves. 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. " Winifred looked as if she could not indulge such a supposition for a single moment. The light was poor, so that she saw their gleaming faces dimly and indistinctly. Her glance, absorbing the gilt letters and their significance, communicated to her poised body a species of paralysis. See? Down we should rush in a foam—in a cloud of snow—to flight and a dream.
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