the trusty stillingfleet and i enjoyed a spot of impromptu al fresco dining in the museum gardens, consuming an alarmingly voluminous chip butty washed down with a can of lilt (the totally tropical taste) followed recklessly by a scoop of chocolate and vanilla local ice cream. stillingfleet, ever the dilettante, loitered delighted over a street cellist and a soprano, and ever the gentleman, carried my bag of freshly snaffled second hand treasures, most kind as they were rather onerous, little suspecting his less than honourable intentions. renowned as he is for the sin of book coveting, i am still reeling from his latest bout of magpiery.
ladies beware the wily bibliotaph.
ostensibly the bookish gentleman is a perfect companion for a dyed in the wool bluestocking (punlovers, i'm on form today!), but they are never to be entirely trusted! whilst comparing and purring over our respective finds at lunch, my splendid 1950’s volume of ‘current literary terms’, initially mocked in the shop for being somewhat ‘out of date’, turned out later to be the essential tome for the stillingfleet library, and the inevitable haggling, cajoling, and blatant naggery began.
clearly, there’s no honour amongst boffins…