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. But you must promise me not to go near that abandoned hussy at Willesden. She rehearsed the story of her forlorn long lost mother in her head, what she would say to the theorymongers. Inside was Anna, leaning a little forward to watch the passers-by, bright-eyed, full to the brim of the insatiable curiosity of youth—the desire to understand and appreciate this new world in which she found herself. How she had fought her eagerness in the beginning, lest it reveal her ignorance of the marvels of mankind! The terror and ecstasy of that night in Singapore— the first city she had ever seen! There was still the impression that something akin to a miracle had piloted her successfully from one ordeal to another. Monsieur could rely upon his special attention, and for the cooking—well, he had his customers, who came from their homes to him year after year. Why don’t you just tell me what is going on with you! Why the police questioned you! Why they’re looking for your mother? I’ll understand! Just tell me and I swear to God Lucy I’ll understand. Miss Mary and me, and Martha too sometimes. ” “How are the Becks doing? Are they okay?” He smiled. He kissed her again.
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