|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 50
"Yes. And the library for choice. I mean for our choice. There
are always servants going into dining-rooms. We shouldn't have
much of a chance of exploring properly in there. Besides,
there's another thing to remember. Mark has kept this a secret
for a year. Could he have kept it a secret in the dining-room?
Could Miss Norris have got into the dining-room and used the
secret door just after dinner without being seen? It would have
been much too risky."
Bill got up eagerly.
"Come along," he said, "let's try the library. If Cayley comes
in, we can always pretend we're choosing a book."
Antony got up slowly, took his arm and walked back to the house
with him.
The library was worth going into, passages or no passages.
Antony could never resist another person's bookshelves. As soon
as he went into the room, he found himself wandering round it to
see what books the owner read, or (more likely) did not read, but
kept for the air which they lent to the house. Mark had prided
himself on his library. It was a mixed collection of books.
Books which he had inherited both from his father and from his
patron; books which he had bought because he was interested in
them or, if not in them, in the authors to whom he wished to lend
his patronage; books which he had ordered in beautifully bound
editions, partly because they looked well on his shelves, lending
a noble colour to his rooms, partly because no man of culture
should ever be without them; old editions, new editions,
expensive books, cheap books, a library in which everybody,
whatever his taste, could be sure of finding something to suit
him.
"And which is your particular fancy, Bill?" said Antony, looking
from one shelf to another. "Or are you always playing
billiards?"
"I have a look at 'Badminton' sometimes," said Bill.
"It's over in that corner there." He waved a hand.
"Over here?" said Antony, going to it.
"Yes." He corrected himself suddenly.--"Oh, no, it's not. It's
over there on the right now. Mark had a grand re-arrangement of
his library about a year ago. It took him more than a week, he
told us. He's got such a frightful lot, hasn't he?"
"Now that's very interesting," said Antony, and he sat down and
filled his pipe again.
There was indeed a "frightful lot" of books. The four walls of
the library were plastered with them from floor to ceiling, save
only where the door and the two windows insisted on living their
own life, even though an illiterate one. To Bill it seemed the
most hopeless room of any in which to look for a secret opening.
"We shall have to take every blessed book down," he said, "before
we can be certain that we haven't missed it."
"Anyway," said Antony, "if we take them down one at a time,
nobody can suspect us of sinister designs. After all, what does
one go into a library for, except to take books down?"
"But there's such a frightful lot."
Antony's pipe was now going satisfactorily, and he got up and
walked leisurely to the end of the wall opposite the door.
"Well, let's have a look," he said, "and see if they are so very
frightful. Hallo, here's your 'Badminton.' You often read that,
you say?"
"If I read anything."
"Yes." He looked down and up the shelf. "Sport and Travel
chiefly. I like books of travel, don't you?"
"They're pretty dull as a rule."
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|