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. Through a blur of tears Ruth followed the rocking light until it vanished. Much too formal for a cosy chat between old friends. The ambitions of his life, and they were many, seemed to lie far away, broken up dreams in some outside world where the way was rough and the sky always grey. \"Hi. It was the blood she found that cemented her decision that her foster daughter was a criminal. I spent many happy days there. "Ruth?" he called. ’ Reminiscence made him smile.
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