’ ‘Prudence,’ repeated Gerald unguardedly. " "Afraid?" "Yes. I want to get away—to go to London. ‘Alors, I see it. 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 munched her bland Whopper as he wolfed three in a row, stuffing his mouth with half a dozen French fries at a time. Enough's as good as a feast of the dainties you provide.
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