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. 195 < 24 > A CITY IN GREECE, 589 B. Then making a pretence of stooping to rearrange her flowing train, she glanced at Anna, and half stopped in her progress down the room. “I think I ought to have one. "In the name of your lamented parent, whose memory I shall for ever revere, I implore you to answer me," urged Kneebone, "why—why would you not accept him?" "Because our positions are different," replied Winifred, who could not resist this appeal to her feelings. This whole affair is truly my fault.
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