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. This path, bordered on each side by high privet hedges of the most beautiful green, soon brought them to a stile. Piercing through every crevice in the clothes, it, in some cases, tore them from the wearer's limbs, or from his grasp. For a few minutes he kept them at bay. Man or woman. ” He thought. Ennison stood by her side.
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