She writhed in ecstasy as she wrapped her legs around his waist, then raised her knees to his shoulders. "Precisely. 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 had imagined she had drowned them altogether. Then he had gone away. For hours after she had not been sensible to life, only to exquisite echoes. ” Lucy knew exactly which blouse Sheila had found. . Yet she never once thought of changing it.
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