Generations had been born and died in between the times she had gotten laid. 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. She did her best to do this. I deserve pretty much what I’ve got. " "And you must have risked much to obtain it, my love.
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