"Why, hello, Ah Cum! What's the trouble?" Ah Cum took his hands from his sleeves. She ought to be softened and tender and confidential at this phase of her life. She wanted him, she needed sex, but the two ideas had not formed an equation where a concrete result could be deduced. 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. " "Absolutely. But there was, it insisted, no mobility in his face, no movement, nothing about him that warmed. " "She has suffered enough for you," said Wood. Vanity was a vice not just to be deprecated, but effectively strangled at birth. E.
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