His advice was mostly practical. “We are, or rather we were, so much alike then that the portrait of either of us would have done for the other. He laughed reassuringly. He dined, and then pleaded a political engagement. 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. His throat filled; he wanted to weep.
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