He tugged at the overly large hooded sweatshirt, which she unzipped and let fall to the ground. It began in the eyes and spread to the lips: warm, embracing, even fatherly. His attraction for her was now written plainly on his freckled face, revealed by the many drinks he had imbibed. Apparently she was always doomed to weep when she talked to her father. 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. "And you saw all that in your mind?" "It wasn't difficult. ” A little blond creature close at hand suddenly gave way to a fit of hysterical laughter, and caught up the end of it with a sob.
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