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It was some time later, after a series of these devastating assaults, that Melusine found herself seated on the sofa lately vacated by Lucilla and Captain Roding, cuddled firmly in the arms of a major of militia reduced quite to idiocy. "Lady Trafford would not have thus condemned me!" cried Thames. " "My death will lie at your door," remarked Jackson to the carpenter. "Whose grave is this?" he inquired of a man who was standing near it. "Another time," replied the thief-taker, evasively. ” The idea struck him as novel. 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.
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