“Amen.”
“Deliver, O Lord, the soul of Thy servant Zeen, as Thou deliveredst Enoch and Elias from the common death of the world.”
“Amen.”
“Deliver, O Lord, the soul of Thy servant Zeen, as Thou deliveredst....”
“I’m on fire! I’m on fire!” howled Warten. “My smock! My smock!”
And he jumped over all the chairs and rushed outside, with the others after him.
“Caught fire at the candle!” he cried, quite out of breath.
They put out the flames, pulled the smock over his head and poured water on his back, where his underclothes were smouldering.
“My smock, my smock!” he went on moaning. “Brand-new! Cost me forty-six stuivers!”
And he stood with his smock in his hands, looking at the huge holes and rents.