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“I am sorry,” he said slowly. He waved a hand toward the sea. It warms me, and lights me, and fills my world with flowers. 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. She went up-stairs and hesitated between four doors with ground-glass panes, each of which professed “The Women’s Bond of Freedom” in neat black letters. ” She replied. A note of belligerency had crept into his tone. ” She smiled at him, an understanding smile, but her words defied him.
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