She wondered why he was so distinctive, so unlike other men, and it never occurred to her for some time that this might be because she was falling in love with him. 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. Happy Thanksgiving. I love some one else. He got off at Canal, and she exited behind the crowd. CHAPTER XXV Spurlock pushed back his helmet and sat down in the white sand, buckling his knees and folding his arms around them—pondering. It makes me desire life beyond measure. She wanted to turn him. “You’re great, Lucy! I had no idea you were so great!” John exclaimed.
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