She was fatigued physically and mentally, and neither mind nor body could rest. The Yale spirit! Ah Cum smiled whimsically. 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. To think of him as loving her would make all that different. “The adventures I do not doubt, Annabel,” she said. Jackson, mean time, produced a pocket-book; and, after deliberately sharpening the point of a pencil, began to write on a blank leaf. You know you do, Annabel. “Would you mind calling that hansom for me?” He looked at it critically and shook his head.
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