From this night I shall pursue a different course; from this night his ruin may be dated. Close upon this came another thought. One day I can be a Gothic chick, and the next day I’ll be Hitler Youth. 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. What he told the vicomte I was not privileged to learn.
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