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. He never felt any need to explain himself. Who is to say that I am not André Valade, an obscure relation of the late vicomte. ” She looked at her toes. Her body was perpetually tanned, despite the approach of winter.
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