’ Gosse blinked. Then she stood up and looked around the room. The lad looked alarmed. “YOU wouldn’t like to be independent?” he asked, abruptly. God bless you, Auntie! I'll go into the mills and make pulp with my bare hands, if you want me to. 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. ToC Mr. " Neither man spoke. ” He said.
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