“If only I could afford another!” she thought regretfully. Living, he knew that he would never send that letter. ’ ‘The nuns?’ she said, gazing at him innocently. Kind of knows it, too. ” “I shall always be grateful to you,” he declared. 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. The place to which you went was not the English Embassy, and the whole performance was a fraud.
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