What he wanted desperately was to be alone. For what she lacked in appearance, Sheila compensated in gossip. It was still raining heavily, and profoundly dark. 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. I will not be persecuted in this way by you. That's why I'm so anxious to get her to a haven. We married, and for a time we were happy. “Wild horses—not if they have all the mounted police in London—shan’t keep me out. Before our marriage there will be no life between you and the estates. For a moment she remained silent. Don’t think I can’t sympathize and understand. She is very bright.
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