Directly in range stood the strange young man, although he was at the far side of the loft. But he reckoned without his host. 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. Courtlaw rose to his feet. E. Her concluding paragraph was, on the whole, perhaps, hardly starchy enough. “Listen to me. Not far from him was a knot of lads drinking, swearing, and playing at dice as eagerly and as skilfully as any of the older hands. She put back her hood in a determined way. “I have waited for this,” he said, and stood quite still, looking at her until the silence became oppressive. Men do services for the love of women, and the woman who takes must pay.
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