Very good. Anna, why will you persist in this single-handed combat with life?” “Don’t!” she cried. The fanatic has no such word in his vocabulary. “Never mind. 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. " The air in the narrow street, which was not eight feet wide, swarmed with smells impossible to define; but all at once the pleasantly pungent odour of Chinese incense drifted across the girl's face, and gratefully she quickened her inhalations. Besides, you cannot tell where it will end. She went on from street to street, and all the glory of London had departed.
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