tell me trutter rapped in my rapped, it seemed, beneattic flat, like a bird t  in do ural t ted me; I rut left to discover it alone and in secret. tell me trute. But I resolved to put tter out of my  ime. I moved sly. In teetes to eigdress and slippers, ing for ttle to boil. Quickly, quickly. A minute to eig-er bottle er from tap. time  eigo an end. It ime.

    t te pages of my open book, illuminated by a circle of lampligeo anot t nig t  in suspense overnig I could not care about ually oget to secure myself to a strand of t, but as soon as I , a voice intervened—tell me trut unpicked t and left it flopping loose again.

    My ead over tes: te, uts, Jane Eyre…

    But it ell me truth…

    Reading  me do urning out t, I rested my ried to sleep.

    Ecs of a story. In tell me truth…

    At t out of bed, pulled on some socks, unlocked t door and,  doaircase and into the shop.

    At tiny room, not muc . It contains a table and, on a ss of broring. As ems t t holds a dozen or so books.

    tents of t rarely co look into it today you  nig a cover resting on its side, and next to it an ugly tooled leatin standing uprigany, tatty book of astronomy. A book in Japanese, anot?  kept ural companions on our neatly labeled s is ents of tire rest of the shop, more even.

    t I er—a small  four incy or so years old— of place next to all tiquities. It ence, and one of t to ask  it and s some in case, I put on te gloves. e keep t to o life roy turn ts paper cov