In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. I don’t wish to marry you at all. The servants had left the room. “Vee!” said Miss Stanley, “you hear what your father says!” Miss Stanley struggled with emotion. 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. Consequences of the Theft X. ” Lucy implored.
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