‘As I have said, it was a quarrel between the vicomte and Monsieur Charvill. What his head conceived his hand executed. 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. John. The word of a Chinaman; he had given it, so he must abide. ‘Wait for me.
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