I do, sir.
You kno alloypes and nonsense like t into my collection?
I t not to, sir.
Mr rey so my uncle: You still believe pograp come to reet, and spend an o c is all our buyers come for.
Your buyers are brutes. business is your opinion as to ty of reys trade . . .?
te alk until triking of ten oclock—whem.
t is t. Mr Rivers is due to remain at Briar until Sunday. Next day I am kept from t supper cero sit again come to my side. Saturday I see urday nigique book, one of —and ts beside me, to study its singular covers.
You like it, Rivers? asks my uncle as is very rare?
I s must be, sir.
And you t, t ther copies?
I , yes.
So you mig ors, y by otem rare, if no-one s it? e call t a dead
book. But, say a score of identical copies are sougand me?
Mr Rivers nods. I do. ticle is relative to t is very quaint. And we heard?
My uncle gro up for auction, and see! ha?
Mr Rivers laugo be sure, yes . . .
But beyond teness, ful. es eet t and surprising pink. rey fusses hen he speaks again.
And w of a pair of books, Mr Lilly, by a single buyer? o be valued?
A pair? My uncle puts dowo volumes?
A pair of complementary titles. A man o secure tly add to t?
Of course, sir!
I t it.
Men pay absurdly for suchings, says Mr huss.
to sucters, of course, in my Index ...quot;
tly; and talk on. e sit and listen—or pretend to—and soon urns and studies my face. May I ask you somet do you see, for yourself, after tion of your uncles work?—Now, w?
I I suppose must be a bitter sort of smile. I say, Your question means not. My uncles ten t must be added to too many lost books to be rediscovered; too mucainty. rey will
debate it for ever. Look at tends, once begin its supplements.
You mean to keep beside time?—I ansed as he?
I last. My skills are fee uncommon.
You are a lady, ly, and y