Once, when he thought he had done so, he smiled an ingratiating smile. She walked with long swinging steps, scorning the thought of buses or the tube. As she approached the corner of the Avenue the blond, no-hatted man in gray flannels appeared. 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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