"Mr. Then he could hear Hilary breathing beside him, and from outside the muted twittering of birds. He sat before a desk littered all over with papers and official looking documents. But did you ever hear of a djinn in a blue-serge coat? Stitched in!" Something like this was always rushing into his throat; and he had to sink his nails into his palms to stop his mouth. The birds were singing blithely amid the trees,—the lowing of the cows resounded from the yard,—a delicious perfume from the garden was wafted through the open window,—at a distance, the church-bells of Willesden were heard tolling for evening service. “Now, there, there. All his interest in Ruth, all his care and solicitude, could now be translated into a single word—love. Or else he was indeed obsessed.
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