They were only passers-by. 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. "But, let me tell you, it's not a pleasant sight to see the girl one likes in the arms of another. Eh bien, they would see about this. Ramage went up the Avenue, and she hurried along the path with a beating heart and a disagreeable sense of unsolved problems in her mind.
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