‘He can’t be Valade, that’s certain,’ mused Gerald, unheeding. 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. ‘Come, Jacques, mon pauvre,’ she uttered, and reached for the lad again, hardly aware of the muted sounds of running feet and much banging and crashing beyond the secret door. It might be dangerous to thwart him. But I can't account for it!" "At all events, you shall answer for it," thundered Wild, with a bitter imprecation. ‘I rather suspect,’ added Prudence, ‘that Major Alderley’s motives were somewhat different. " The patient was asleep. Already the warm sun was drawing from the pines their delicious odour. She wondered even at this late day how she had been able to hold her maddening curiosity in check. She heard him crash against it, and turned the key in the lock.
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