The fantastic thing was that they always seemed to have a battered copy of the exact text you were looking for. If you wanted to find a childhood memory then this was the place. If you needed a first edition, then the owner would be able to find you a copy.
Patrons of the bookshop were always polite but kept a distance. It was truly a silent place and Tamzin liked nothing better than spending a dusty afternoon lost in the rows of old books with yellowing pages. Today she rushed to the shop and walked in, the brass bell ringing, announcing her arrival.
"Ah Tamzin, I was waiting for you." said the owner. "I have this for you." He handed her a package wrapped in brown paper and string. The card said 'enjoy. Rochester.1". She carefully opened the packages and there, underneath the layers of brown paper, was a first edition of Jane Eyre.
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