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 left his office at 5:39 according to her watch. “The very question, my dear sister,” she said, “tells me that I have succeeded. There was the same airy grace of movement, the same deep brown hair and alabaster skin. Instead, he could not get beyond these minor details—why she wore the dress, whence she had come, and whither she was bound. “You must not think of me as one.
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