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. Sir John stood upon the threshold. ’ ‘Nothing of the sort,’ Gerald said calmly, sipping at his burgundy. We know London, and you are a stranger here. . Jack Sheppard is now wholly in my hands.
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