” Annabel sank suddenly into a chair. She listened, listened intently for several minutes. 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. He had already spoken his mind on the folly of allowing a clearly dangerous female to escape a second time. He was always forgetting that his tummy was fifty-four years old. “I have noticed,” he said, “that you seem to delight in taking a topsy-turvy view of life. Remain at the door, Nab," he added, loitering for a moment behind the others, "and let no one in, or out. He had dungarees on and a blue work shirt. "Then it is not too late to save him. “I refuse. Overcome by his affliction, Mr. Keep his arms down. Do take them away from me after I have had four.
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