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. ’ She let out a peal of laughter. ’ ‘The horse?’ echoed Melusine. The Frenchman had moved back into Piccadilly from Down Street, at which the lad following him had immediately sauntered away a yard or two. Had it not been lashed to the adjoining wherry, it must have been upset, and have precipitated the opponents into the water.
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