There was a pause, and then the front door slammed. 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. The house will be well rid of him, for a more idle, good-for-nothing reprobate never crossed its threshold. " "My turn comes before yours, Sir," interposed his better half. "You don't recollect me, I presume?" premised the stranger, taking a seat.
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