’ ‘But what do you want it for, miss?’ ‘But to protect myself. "Do you not know me, father?" said the young man, advancing towards him, and warmly grasping his hand. I’m sorry. 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. These were less like streets than labyrinths, hewn through an eternal twilight. "Now—begin.
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