” John gestured. ” “I will have your reason for this,” he said. 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. “John,” she declared, “I must eat or die. Amidst it all, however, there were several light-hearted and laughing groups walking from cell to cell to whom all this misery appeared matter of amusement. “Look at our clothes,” she exclaimed, “and besides, the funny little proprietor has gone down himself to help it along. Every one looked at Anna. . ‘I don’t want to hurt you any more. Rather! Who could help it?” He towered up over her and smiled down at her in his fatherly way. I won’t try. She had never felt so acutely the desire for free initiative, for a life unhampered by others.
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