The elastic spirits of youth resumed their sway; and, before the coach stopped, his tears had ceased to flow. She paused. But Melusine’s own words had thrown an idea into her head. People, nobody, can do as they like in this world. 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.
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