A town called Foster. "And you will answer it frankly?" "Certainly. 150 “Homely. They are their mother’s sons. I am a man—of a sort of experience. 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 last operation was so fatiguing, that for a short time he was obliged to pause to recover the use of his fingers.
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