‘Desist, you little devil,’ he growled in her ear. ” “Can’t we go down into Italy?” “No,” he said; “it won’t run to that now. ‘This is the way you tell me that you love me? You English idiot, you!’ He seized her wrists to hold her off, actually daring to laugh, much to Melusine’s increased fury. She must not tell Martha about Gerald. You would steal from me then the only man I ever cared a snap of the fingers about. 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. "You heard me say it! It was inevitable.
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