There is the key. ” He stared at her, trying to guess at the mystery of her thoughts. “By-the-bye, Lady Ferringhall,” he said, “do you know that I am a very great admirer of your sister’s? I wonder if she has ever spoken to you of me. Ladies with weapon’s on ’em. But did you ever hear of a djinn in a blue-serge coat? Stitched in!" Something like this was always rushing into his throat; and he had to sink his nails into his palms to stop his mouth. He had conveyed it to her, not verbally, but by means of a letter, which seemed to her a singularly ignoble method of prohibition. “David Courtlaw!” she repeated. She had to exert tremendous energy not to sniff the air for his blood.
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