’ Jack blinked. It was a work of no slight danger, for every instant a wall, or fragment of a building, came crashing to the ground. She thought her niece very hard and very self-possessed and self-confident. Mr. You seemed, he thought, to have some grievance which you would not explain and which he thought must arise from a misunderstanding. “Thank you. She didn’t like the shops, she didn’t like the other women’s faces; she thought the smirking men in frock-coats who dominated these establishments the most intolerable persons she had ever had to face. 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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