Hurrying down the Haymarket, he was arrested by a crowd who were collected round a street-singer. Heliers. " "One word before I go," urged Blueskin. He stepped in with a heavy foreboding of calamity. Nevertheless it was overwhelming. The chance it is the same for both. It seemed to him that a sort of mist had risen up between them. When he begins to notice things, I want you to trap his interest, to amuse him, keep his thoughts from reverting to his misfortunes. 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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