Beneath two tall elms, whose boughs completely overshadowed the roof, stood Mr. " And she flung herself between them. “It’s odd,” said Ann Veronica, re-entering the flat. Ennison,” he said, “it is for you to cut in at Lady Angela’s table. Then the bridge had arched gateways, bristling with spikes, and garnished (as all ancient gateways ought to be) with the heads of traitors. “H’m!” he said, regarding the wreckage with a calmer visage. When, by slow and toilsome efforts, he had arrived midway, something obstructed his further progress. 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.
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