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. ‘Hadn’t meant you to know,’ said the nun gruffly. It does sound a little horrid to talk so much about oneself and to have views. Knowing the South Seas from hearsay and by travel, he knew something of that inertia which blunted the fineness, innate and acquired, of white men and women, the eternal warfare against indifference and slovenliness. He carried her in his arms up the steps, like a bride on her honeymoon.
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