But Gerald kept to a casual note. "Never heard of a sing-song girl; never heard of a geisha! Flower of the Lotus: the sing-song girl called her that. 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. He sat up in his chair again, the colour came back to his cheeks.
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