He paused at the bamboo curtain of her room, which was in semi-darkness. 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. "It was given me by a man who was drinking t'other night with Blueskin at the Lion! and who, though he slouched his hat over his eyes, and muffled his chin in a handkerchief, must have been Jonathan Wild. Good and Evil. Then she would write and tell her father what she had done, and put their relationship on a new footing. He singled out my poor husband from a crowd of other felons; and you know how right he was in that case, Sir.
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