“You will not object,” he said, glancing towards her, “to accepting a deposit. She opened it and drew out a letter, and folded within it were the notes she had sent off to Ramage that day. . The one I have is a duplicate. I hope I may never come near her. 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.
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