" "Curse you!" cried Jack, furiously,—"curse you!—curse you!" "Swear away, Captain," rejoined Blueskin, coolly. I know all. It was as much accident as anything, but she had killed him. "I can't say," answered the fellow; "but I'll inquire from the sexton, William Morgan. '" "An ingenious device," laughed Gay. No matter how often she came across this phase in love stories, there was never anything explanatory: as if all human beings perfectly understood. 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. And Gerald— Melusine swallowed on an unaccountable lump in her throat.
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