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. He'd never forgive you. I’ll give you an uncrossed check, and then you can get it at the bank here, quite close by. "How is the patient?" he asked. ‘As for you—’ ‘Do not address me. But I swear she ain’t told me nothing more, sir.
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