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‘Tell me, my boy. “We will see that he doesn’t follow you. So she brought upon the stage the Reverend Henry Dolby, a preacher of means, worldly-wise and kindly, cheery and rotund, who, with his wife and daughter, had arrived at the Victoria that morning. Something about this woman rather reminds me of our hostess. 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 an unspoken curfew in the Beck house on week nights.
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