This was a large room, but the
bookcases that lined the walls, and a large writing-table heaped up with
books, much diminished its size. There were books everywhere. They were
stacked on the floor and piled on every chair. There was hardly space to
move. Susie gave a cry of delight.
'Now you mustn't talk to me. I want to look at all your books.'
'You could not please me more,' said Dr Porhoet, 'but I am afraid they
will disappoint you. They are of many sorts, but I fear there are few
that will interest an English young lady.'
He looked about his writing-table till he found a packet of cigarettes.
He gravely offered one to each of his guests. Susie was enchanted with
the strange musty smell of the old books, and she took a first glance at
them in general. For the most part they were in paper bindings, some of
them neat enough, but more with broken backs and dingy edges; they were
set along the shelves in serried rows, untidily, without method or plan.
There were many older ones also in bindings of calf and pigskin, treasure
from half the bookshops in Europe; and there were huge folios like
Prussian grenadiers; and tiny Elzevirs, which had been read by patrician
ladies in Venice.
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