And in that respect they stir up one another. I heard only after it was all over. 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 then you will be obliged to remain in France,’ she pointed out. ‘You mean that his missus is pretending to be my mistress? Lord-a-mercy!’ ‘Precisely.
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