Errol did not question the sudden shuttered look on Preston's face. His few friends had remarked on it on his own face often enough; he supposed it was something that Librians just did out of habit, a legacy of a life of being as bland as possible for fear of arousing the interest of the state.
"It is at that," he said. He finally bent to pick up the book that Preston had dropped, making sure that the pages weren't crumpled and holding it out to hand it back to Preston. "Are you... did you stop..." He motioned toward his neck with his free hand. "I doubt you'll be able to get it here, unless the City wants you to."