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. ” “You love—Anna?” she exclaimed. And she, she in her own person too, was this eternal Bios, beginning again its recurrent journey to selection and multiplication and failure or survival. Perhaps Gerald was not as clothheaded as he had thought. ’ ‘But the general gave his permission. I'm about to leave this country for ever.
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