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Anna leaned over so that he needed only to whisper. I could be presented as Meysey Hill. Ramage admitted the force of that. “Dear John,” she whispered. ‘Is it soft, the way you seize me from behind? Parbleu, my heart it is flown from my chest! Boom, boom, it goes, even now. 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.
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