She thrashed and screamed as he wrestled her back towards the bed. 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. Ray Plote was most certainly feeling restless, what if he had left the house for the evening? She needed to eat. “Anna,” he pleaded, “be merciful. Jack now carefully closed the shutters, while Blueskin struck a light, with which he set fire to a candle. "It's more than I am," muttered Thames.
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