Her hair had become so matted that Sebastian had sheared it off, which made her the very mirage of a nubile young boy. There is the election——” He laughed derisively. "Curse me, if I don't think all the world means to cross the Thames this fine night," observed Ben. 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. He then arose, and, taking a few turns in the chamber, stopped suddenly before her. Seeing the footman about to follow her in, Gerald clamped a hand onto his shoulder.
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