All at once she realised that Kimble had halted, leaning heavily against the wall. A hundred pounds to the man who takes 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. " The stranger said nothing, but hastily brushed away a tear. "Man, man! You're coming to life. I want to do something. S. You are a girl with very little. But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. These were less like streets than labyrinths, hewn through an eternal twilight. A glance sufficed to show the young man how matters stood. At last, she breathed. ” He handed her the phone reluctantly, barely masking his mild disgust.
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