‘That’s right, you bone idle do-nothings. She opened her suitcase—new and smelling strongly of leather—and took out of it a book, dogeared and precariously held together, bound in faded blue cloth and bearing the inscription: The Universal Handbook. " "And who is its mother?" asked Jonathan, in an eager whisper. She slid her cheek down the tweed sleeve of his coat. Do you accept it?" "Dear Thames!" "Forgive this ill-timed avowal of my love. ” She smiled at him, an understanding smile, but her words defied him.
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