Ann Veronica considered her answer. “Did they ever try it for themselves?” He wrestled his chin between her thighs as she tried to squeeze her legs shut upon his ears. Cathy reached out and touched Lucy’s chin with her two fingers, gently commanding her attention. “John! Welcome! Happy Thanksgiving!” Cathy cried, ushering him deeper into the house. 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. One never knew when it would be necessary to resume her disguise.
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