He could imagine it even if he could not feel it. He could not tell whether she was English or American. It’s just to feel—one owns one’s self. ” She thought of her father, and with an effort dismissed him from her mind. 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. I told you, Sir Rowland," he added, turning to the knight, and chuckling, "the devil never deserts me.
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