“No,” she answered. 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. Then he had gone away. I have now settled my affairs, and made every preparation for my departure to France, where I shall spend the remainder of my days. She floundered deep. He had grabbed a tiny remote control and flew the thing around the table, landing it there and turning it off. They are their mother’s sons. Father and daughter regarded each other warily, each more than a little insecure with the other. “Hey, John.
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