She told her husband that she wished her nothing more than her own death. "Only the dog," replied the rough tones of a man. The entrance of the house 85 was grand, and upon entering she was immediately greeted by John’s mother, a tall, thin woman quite a few years older than Cathy Beck. Wood trembled. 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. She has contrived to keep out of my sight up to this time, and I've no doubt she'll keep out of it altogether for the future. If he got her outside, surely the soldiers would see her and intervene. ‘By traitors I am surrounded!’ ‘Stop talking utter twaddle,’ ordered Roding, marching up to the desk.
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