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. God is a jealous God, and He turned upon me relentlessly. Her recent attitude towards him was undoubtedly a pose. She could not say who, not yet. " "How did you escape?" asked Sheppard, who, as he shook off his slumber, began to recall the events of the previous night. "The Chevalier shall hear of this," whispered the woollen-draper.
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