The bookseller, Mr. Abernathy, stroked his chin. His eyes lit up with recognition.
“Ah, yes. I remember those. Not for the books themselves, but for the sellers.”
My heart hammered against my ribs.
“A rather unpleasant couple,” he continued, peering over his glasses at me. “The woman seemed desperate, and the man… he had the eyes of a shark. continue reading …
