His expression became pained. 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. Gerald saw her eyes change as she recognised him. “I have a message from your sister. “Why don’t you?” “Well, it might mean rather a row. The sun was setting, casting long dreary shadows across deformed apple trees. Supposing they find you and take you away?—and she unprepared? Have you thought of that? Why did you marry her?" "God alone knows!" "And you don't love her! What kind of a woman do you want, anyhow?"—with rising anger. ” “I’ve told you,” he said.
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