Too late now. More often then not he refused to reveal specifics of his own past in Greece and Rome, choosing to relate fables and stories of an impersonal nature. 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. The young officer sat in front, his hat perfectly straight. Her naked body was an abomination of caked filth and sagging tubes for breasts. Miss Mary and me, and Martha too sometimes. His hair is oddly streaked with gray —I might say a dishonourable gray.
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