She tried to appear as if she had never been questioned before. “Of course it is, Anna. We always go out to dinner on holidays. Sheppard. Dare you?” “Do you mean NOW?” “At the end of the session. ” Annabel shrugged her shoulders. She remained standing stiffly, unable even to move. I would have heard her. 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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