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. At the bottom of her heart she was not a bit afraid of Ramage. Above the work-table was a drop-light—kerosene. In the second, she was wretchedly poor, and assailed by temptations of which you can form no idea. While this was taking place, another and more serious interruption occurred. Wood did think of it, and groaned aloud. She got up, put the neat cuffs she had made into her work-basket, and went to the bureau for the little cards in the morocco case.
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