But it never said: "Tell someone! Tell someone!" Was he something of a moral pervert, then? Was it what he had lost—the familiar world—rather than what he had done? He stared dully at the footrail. "No"—as if her thoughts were elsewhere. His literary instincts were reviving. He then looked around him with some curiosity; and, as the thief-taker was occupied in giving directions to his attendant in an undertone, ample leisure was allowed him for investigation. Here and there, a rectangular patch, darker than the rest, showed that some had been removed. His high brow was what caused all the ladies in town to covet him, it radiated intelligence but also something more primal. 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. But her temper almost flared again when the sergeant spoke.
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