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" "Graves. Dinner was quite uneventful. 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. Given time and the right environment, and he would outgrow these defects. Chapter VIII “WHITE’S” Northwards, away from the inhospitality of West Kensington, rumbled the ancient four-wheel cab, laden with luggage and drawn by a wheezy old horse rapidly approaching its last days. ‘But this Englishwoman,’ asked the man Valade, his puzzlement plain to see, ‘who was she?’ The question irritated Charvill. "Been to those places?" "No. A stout wooden shutter, opening inwardly, being removed, disclosed a grating of iron bars.
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