Martha had been more to her than that. Wild horses wouldn’t drag it out of me, even I knew anything, which I don’t. 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. What his head conceived his hand executed.
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