Presently the odour of burnt powder mingled agreeably with that of the incense. "At least I'll try," replied Jonathan, sarcastically. "Och! he's a broth of a boy!" "Why, I thought he'd broken your head, Terry?" "Phooh! that's nothing? A piece o' plaster'll set all to rights; and Terry O'Flaherty's not the boy to care for the stroke of a supple-jack. She explained she was expecting an important interview, and asked that her visitor should be duly shown in. ‘Very well, Kimble. But Jack and his companion were already gone. ’ ‘I thank you,’ Gerald said drily. ‘First I must see Jacques, and—’ ‘No need for that,’ intervened Roding, grasping her arm and trying to drag her to the door. 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. David Courtlaw.
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