All the rest of his existence was subordinate to this pursuit; he lived for it, worked for it, kept himself in training for it. "Are you not that man's mistress?" demanded Mrs. "We're forgetting," he said. But the wench who tricked me shall bitterly repent it. 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. This at once thrilled her and worried her. "An hour hence, I shall be beyond your malice," said Mrs.
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