She was at the end of girlhood and on the eve of a woman’s crowning experience. " "That is your fault, none of mine. In each pause she could sense his growing trepidation. An old man with a bent back who limped in, slow and stiff, leaning heavily on a cane. In mailing the tales he had not enclosed return postage or the equivalent in money. In doing this, he chanced to raise his eyes and half fancied he beheld, shaded by a pillar at the extremity of the western aisle, the horrible countenance of the thief-taker. Rattles were sprung; lanterns lighted, and hoisted at the end of poles; windows thrown open; doors unbarred; and, as if by magic, the street was instantaneously filled with a crowd of persons of both sexes, armed with such weapons as came most readily to hand, and dressed in such garments as could be most easily slipped on. —I'll soon find you out. . It is useless to talk. 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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