That is all I ask. His chin was angular and his lips were 16 small, his mouth tiny and refined. " CHAPTER XV. "Miss Enschede, you're seven kinds of a brick!" "A brick?" He chuckled. I won’t even ask. She opened the door with a neon colored key. 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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