"Can't you take me with you?" urged the voice; "I'll make it well worth your while. ’ Arrested, Melusine eyed her with interest. "Hear me," he cried, restraining himself with difficulty. A full-curled wig descended half-way down his back and shoulders; a neckcloth of "right Mechlin" was twisted round his throat so tightly as almost to deprive him of breath, and threaten him with apoplexy; he had lace, also, at his wrists and bosom; gold clocks to his hose, and red heels to his shoes. 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. " "Ah, yes.
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