Then as she lay very still, with her hands clinched and her black hair tumbled about her face, he came still closer and softly kissed the nape of her neck. "What of that," rejoined Jonathan. " "I am almost afraid to utter it," said Kneebone; "but Thames Darrell is murdered. He looked about for his hat, and put it on. ” “And I,” Brendon said, humbly, “although I am afraid there is no chance for me, my errand was the same. We’d soon cool that temper of yours. 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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