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. It's gin—a liquor you used to like. “You have not seen your sister lately,” he remarked. “The Vote is the symbol of everything,” said Miss Brett. " Upon which, he set off in the direction of the entry.
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