‘Who me, sir? Lor’ no, sir. I could not have committed this robbery. 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. What beasts men are! I cannot typewrite, my three stories are still wandering round, two milliners have refused me as a lay figure because business was so bad. And what a noise they made! This is how I used to call them. ’ ‘You may not get the chance.
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