She remained for a few moments standing as though listening to his retreating footsteps. “She is likely somewhere on the road or perhaps in town, finding victims. 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 major’s hand stilled. Bit priggish, isn’t it? And if he only knew it—so absurd. Only her face was clear, frail and delicate, almost flower-like, with the sad haunting eyes ever watching his. His frowning gaze came back to her. “Is there any urgency?” The doctor bent over his patient, who seemed to have fallen asleep.
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