[Action]
[Davros is less than pleased. He has spent the day being insistently hounded and humiliated in ways he doesn't care to list. Wandering through the library, inspecting volume after volume, he is increasingly entering a fouler and fouler mood. Then he spots The Doctor. Ah. Perfect.]
Doctor.
[A short nod of recognition. When in a mood like this, his responses take on a far less verbose quality. He'd argue it was efficiency at work, rather than struggling not to scream and rant at the world.]
I cannot find any documented history texts. Where are they?
[He glances at the pile of books. Have you stolen them all, you greedy...]