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. “Gods!” cried Ann Veronica, and kept him standing. And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry. Melusine fetched her stool and plonked it down next to her great-aunt’s chair. Her birthday was four months away, and that, at its extremist point, might give her another five pounds.
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