"I thought I heard--somebody calling somebody else 'Achmet.'" I told
him, confusedly. "And there was a Jinnee, really there was. And two
Voices. Who brought me here? Did you find me, over there?"
"You were not hard to carry," he said evasively.
"But The Jinnee?"
"The Jinnee did exactly what a good Jinnee always does, his duty.
Having done it, he disappeared. Didn't I tell you you're not to
think of what's happened? It is finished," said Mr. Jelnik,
peremptorily.
I asked no more questions.
"Do you think you are able to walk now?" he asked.
I tried to, with shaking knees. At the edge of the field I grew
faint again, and staggered, and was unpleasantly sick.
"You simply cannot appear in Hynds House in this shape, and invite
comment and question," said Mr. Jelnik, anxiously. His fine brows
wrinkled. "I have it: you will stop at my house for a few minutes,
and I'll give you a cordial, that will put you to rights."
I went staggering along beside him, making desperate efforts to hold
myself erect. The pathway squirmed and wriggled like a snake, the
trees and bushes bowed, the sky bobbed up and down.
He took me by by-paths so cunningly hidden that you might pass up
and down the highroad daily and never suspect their existence.
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