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. Martin was the only person to directly address Lucy again, trying to reassure her that “real vampires melt in direct sunlight. "I will," answered the prisoner. Because here was the haven for which she had been blindly groping: the positive abolition of all her father's rights in her—the right to drag her back. She had never let off a pistol in her life. Flattened flowers aren’t for the likes of us. He has given orders that no one is to disturb him. One of the coolies held the paper lantern.
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