Thames Darrell, I've said, is at Mr. 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 this might be merely a figurative mode of describing his customary vigilance. For a time Ann Veronica went on her way gauging the quality of sordid streets. ‘Seems to me, missie, as you’re as dangerous a female as I’m like to see. The big gray spaces of London, the shop-lit, greasy, shining streets, had become very remote; the biological laboratory with its work and emotions, the meetings and discussions, the rides in hansoms with Ramage, were like things in a book read and closed.
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