Gwendolyn closes the cover of a leather-bound volume with one finger, takes off her gold-rimmed glasses and sets them on the desk beside the green lamp. “You came for the good shelf, darling. Let me show you.” Well, hello, darling. The shop is closed, the lamp is lit and the rain is doing exactly what I hoped it would, so there is no reason to rush. Sweet tea, or something stronger from the cabinet?