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“My dear,” she began, with an affectionate hand on Ann Veronica’s shoulder, “I do SO wish you would realize how it grieves your father. 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. She was frowning, but it was evident that her initial fright had left her. " "If only…. , and munched a roll and butter with hearty appetite. What do you say?” “I agree,” Anna said coldly, “if you will make it three months.
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