The great gray boles of the palms reminded him of some fabulous Grecian temple. This morning he heard voices—McClintock's and the Wastrel's. Holding a link into the place, which had the appearance of a deep pit, Blueskin noticed a body richly dressed. That's a queer yarn. The brilliant sunshine poured through the window, effecting an oblong block of mote-swimming light. 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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This video was uploaded to lexapro2020.live on 13-07-2024 21:36:42
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