” Annabel clutched her sister’s hands. 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. “You shall drive home with me in a hansom, if you will. But this is a great lark, Ann Veronica! This turns life into a glorious adventure!” “Ah!” she cried in triumph. ‘Eh bien, you are not like Leonardo. The Northern Ocean keeps a secret better than the Thames, Sir Rowland. "Ye-ah," said O'Higgins, jovially. "I think the natives saw you coming out of the lagoon, one dawn. She was her mother’s child, fair of face, doted upon and spoiled by her attentions.
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