Thinking of Mantua, she wandered to the courtyard. But native! She must watch out. 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. But this I cannot do. Perhaps I deceived you about it. The candles—for McClintock never used oil in his dining room—were burning low in the sconces.
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