All his dreams shattered in an instant. “Annabel! God in Heaven, it is Annabel!” She did not speak. “Gross. "It was given me by a man who was drinking t'other night with Blueskin at the Lion! and who, though he slouched his hat over his eyes, and muffled his chin in a handkerchief, must have been Jonathan Wild. Ramage,” she said, clinging to her one point, “I want to get out of this horrible little room. And yet—I love you. 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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