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. Indignation carried her through that night, that men and the world could so entreat her. So she went to Ramage and came to the point almost at once. She had all the fascination of being absolutely perplexing in this respect. Love anywhere. No mercenary consideration influences me. He was not quite sure whether, after all, he had been wise. This won’t do. " "I should have opened that letter in the beginning," said the doctor.
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