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’ ‘You ain’t never,’ gasped Pottiswick. S. We must never let your father know we went. And many of these deaths could be avoided if it were not for superstition. 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. Had he been listening inside? ‘What is amiss?’ ‘That Frenchie, sir. ‘Looks like it. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. And then—this sudden thrust.
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This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 20-09-2024 21:09:20
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