‘I think you’ve gone stark, staring crazy. ” Annabel had been lying curled up on the lounge, the personification of graceful animal ease. 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. Sometimes her straying mind would become astonishingly active—embroidering bright and decorative things that she could say to Capes; sometimes it passed into a state of passive acquiescence, into a radiant, formless, golden joy. " "There's a funny idea in my head. ” She made her glasses glint. “I do hope I have been able to make you understand how I feel, that you don’t consider me a hopeless prig.
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