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. “We are to begin our married life to-night—here where I first met you. ” “Do you drink blood?” He stood up. In a sense it alters nothing. “You are a funny, a very funny young lady,” he said, “but we waste time here. Usually it was fish sticks and reheated noodles.
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