She dropped a flower—it’s in my pocket-book now. It might have been the moon, or the phosphorescence of the broken water, or it might have been his abysmal loneliness; but suddenly he caught her face in his hands and kissed her on the mouth. I hope this is all. She lingered over donning her winter coat, buttoning each toggle and placket, double knotting her long scarf. “So that’s the way it is. Much to my amazement, as soon as I was in her presence I forgot about my magic and thought only of love. Well, I'll be getting this tub under way. Then came the javelin-men, walking four abreast, and lastly, a long line of constables, marching in the same order. 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.
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