He was dressed with the utmost care, and he set his feet upon the broad walk as though the action were in some way a condescension. ‘Laisse-moi!’ Impatience swamped him. Surely she could ignore him. Who could say that the girl's father had not once been a fashionable clergyman in the States and that drink had got him and forced him down, step by step, until—to use the child's odd expression—he had come upon the beach? She was cynical, this spinster. “We’ll have to watch a movie down here. "What do you mean by that, sirrah?" cried Wood, reddening with anger. 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.
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