His stories had enchanted her, even if in some deep corner of her heart she guessed they were not entirely true. You will survive, mark my words. But the recollection of the warm pliant body in his arms …! "I am a thief!" he whispered. 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. I'll remember that. ‘Don’t, miss,’ uttered the boy.
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