Only her ungloved fingers, and the arms in their long tight sleeves as she held the heavy gun aloft, bore any sign of stiffness. ’ Miss Froxfield intervened quickly as her betrothed showed signs of erupting again. 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. A stout wooden shutter, opening inwardly, being removed, disclosed a grating of iron bars. Eh bien, they would see about this. ‘Here we go again. This too shall pass. You’re such a strange girl. ” “Surely,” he protested, “the change is all in favour of your own inclinations. All the same, I wish I had that fellow by the throat! Just the virile, unregenerate man in me wishes that.
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