"I have had Kanakas who could read and write in Dutch, and English, though. Still, that leaves over a million shrines short, not reckoning widows who re-marry. Their heads touched again, their arms tightened. 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. A message was dispatched from Florence that she was to again receive her future husband.
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