The Widgett mental furniture was perhaps worn and shabby, but there it was before you, undisguised, fading visibly in an almost pitiless sunlight. I don’t see how they can be. She had eaten them, murdered them routinely, and yet he loved her still. ‘Sergeant Trodger is who I am. 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. A strong arm pulled her closer, and the lips that mouthed her own in tender touches sent her senses reeling.
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