The impassivity of her features changed at last. 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. Of you—an angel with one wing. Oh, God!” Rhea sniffed the air through two gaping nostrils that had eroded through her onion skin flesh. “Mr. ‘No need to upset yourself. Jack was completely overcome.
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