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All her tender lures, inherent and acquired, had shattered themselves futilely against the reserve he had set between them. It was an easy one to smell early on, Sebastian had taught her: anything reproductive. "I'm sorry for old Newgate that another jail should have it. She stepped on to the pavement almost before him, and his blood turned almost to ice as he saw that she was not alone. 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. God knows how you did it. Sebastian had come to visit his old friend and former wife.
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