Everything was blurred. ‘Desist, you little devil,’ he growled in her ear. “My dear sweet Lucia. ‘Can you not open it?’ she cried. 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. As soon as the manacles were slipped over the prisoner's wrists, and the new padlock secured to the staple, they withdrew. . He was always anticipating, stepping into the future, torturing himself with non-existent troubles. Nevertheless, Sir John had the look of a man who was enjoying himself.
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