She gathered up the chain, revealing a locket which had lain hidden in her bosom. But not today. Wood's favourite sitting-room, and her image was so intimately associated with it, neither the carpenter nor his daughter could muster courage to enter it before. Had he but known it, his outburst had done him no harm in the major’s eyes. But in the appendix of the dictionary she had discovered magic names—Hugo, Dumas, Thackeray, Hawthorne, Lytton. Come down, I say, instantly, or I'll make you. “How crude you are, Anna!” she exclaimed with a little sigh. 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. gutenberg. But she must stop him getting away. “I do hope I have been able to make you understand how I feel, that you don’t consider me a hopeless prig.
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