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. She may have any number of wasting diseases, but they cannot survive in our bodies. . " "And I'm glad your worship's recognition doesn't come too late," observed the Master. . She stole the opportunity to peer at his departing figure from the closed curtains of the front room window, his shoulders slumped forward, his posture and his ego slightly deflated.
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