He considered if the book belonged, truly belonged to her. He weighed it, in his mind. It did not, unfortunately. He knew she would appreciate it in the proper way, but it did not speak to him in the way that another object did, now that this girl was near.
The man opened the cabinet and withdrew an item from the shelf where the book sat. It was such a small thing, it seemed of little consequence.
It looked like a very small magic wand, about the length of the man's hand, silver. Heavy, for its size. There was a round, green crystal on the end of it, and above that a loop. It could easily become a large pendant.
It was intricately designed, very old.
The man set it on a small cushion on the counter.
"Part of my calling," he said, "is to find the rightful home for certain of my objects. I believe this is yours."