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. She practiced swaddling on a doll, pretending to pat the head of her imaginary infant boy. It is attested, you will observe, by the Reverend Mr. "Them's catchpoles, I s'pose, Sir, arter the gemman with a writ?" he observed.
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