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. Melusine feigned a displeased frown. Small wonder she had learned to be self-reliant. And a custom had grown up of a general tea at four o’clock, under the auspices of a Miss Garvice, a tall and graceful girl of distinguished intellectual incompetence, in whom the hostess instinct seemed to be abnormally developed. And so I'll tell you what I did —" And she burst into a laugh that froze Jack's blood in his veins. \" \"Would you like me to carry some of the books? I have nothing to bring home today. Melusine, starved of colour for years, revelled in it. No work that offered was at all of the quality she had vaguely postulated for herself. She exhaled, feeling the tension drain from her shoulders and arms.
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