Obeying some fine instinct, she had come to the prison in a dark veil, but she had pushed this up to kiss Ann Veronica and never drawn it down again. 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. ’ ‘The nuns?’ she said, gazing at him innocently. Spurlock was no longer a man before this instinct; he was a child in trouble.
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