Sebastian's arms were about her, his fists pumping her stomach as she coughed forth saltwater from her belly and lungs. It was a port of call, since fortnightly a British mail-boat dropped her mudhook in the bay. ‘You are, I think, a gentleman, no?’ Gerald bowed. 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. This obstacle removed, he thought he might now make the attempt. ” She breathed an inner sigh of relief.
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