"All's bowman, my covey. \"I don't want to hurt you. All this Woman-who-Diddery —no damn good. Anna was sitting before the fire a little distance from him—Ennison himself remained standing. 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. “There are two things to be done,” he said softly to himself. He made some obvious comments on the wide view warming toward its autumnal blaze that spread itself in hill and valley, wood and village, below. ‘Damnation!’ Confused, he released her, and in an instant she had darted away and was running down the garden. She leaped to a world of shabby knowledge, of furtive base realizations. We shall both, I hope, live to enjoy our shares—long after Thames Darrell is forgotten—ha! ha! A third of your estate I accept. She heard him come in; the light burned on.
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