But she did not listen long; she wanted to talk. The place pulsed with music too loud to converse above. Sheppard was committed to the earth. “I can survive on my own. That’s got his nerves to rags. 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. ” “And you?” “Rather!” “I wonder why?” “There’s no why. I have suspected him of possessing a skeleton key to my apartments. ” John looked at her sympathetically. The latch had not fully caught. She was no longer certain that she desired an Englishman, if she must judge of one in particular. .
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