"The poor young man!" she said. The Bed Room 400 XIX. Lucy did not move, but instead stared straight forward, her eyes focused on the desk where the presiding teacher on duty was supposed to be. Hadn’t they settled that already? “I want you as a friend,” he persisted, almost as if he disputed something. 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. “His stipend forbade it,” she said, and seemed to fall into a train of thought.
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