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. The stranger started at the touch, and spoke. I’m afraid I’m a terribly clumsy fellow. " "Not in this world," returned Jonathan. I slaved over it, contacted half a dozen genealogy groups and came up with zilch.
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