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. Ann Veronica watched her face, vaguely sympathizing with her, vaguely disliking her physical insufficiency and her convulsive movements, and the fine eyebrows were knit with a faint perplexity. ‘Odds were against it. Spurlock halted in his tracks. Capes—the ‘Capes crave,’ they would call it in America. On regaining his breath, he began to consider whither chance had led him; and, rubbing his eyes to clear his sight, he perceived a sombre pile, with a lofty tower and broad roof, immediately in front of him. He touched a long-standing sore, and Ann Veronica found herself vainly trying to explain—the inexplicable.
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