" "Wood's daughter, I suppose?" observed the other. She watched the captain tuck the pistol back in his pocket, and perch on the edge of the big desk. She recognized the cloth at once, waylaid him, and with that directness of speech particularly hers she explained what she wanted. But did you ever hear of a djinn in a blue-serge coat? Stitched in!" Something like this was always rushing into his throat; and he had to sink his nails into his palms to stop his mouth. Wood, meantime, had not remained idle.
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