’ His finger came out and Melusine felt it stroke her cheek. He sat down beside her and stroked her hair. 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. Not us. What reassured her, however, more than anything else, was the shape of the mouth: it was warmly turned. ‘I agree with you. I have just come from him. " The stranger said nothing, but hastily brushed away a tear. "How long will he be laid up?" "Three or four weeks, if he doesn't peg out during the night.
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