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. They rose as she approached. “Go to London,” said Ann Veronica. “They are full of the usual foolish stories. ’ She shuddered, throwing her hands over her face. I love some one else. She had set out to get a beautiful life, a free, untrammelled life, self-development, without counting the cost either for herself or others.
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