"When you were - since you last came, I. Hanged on to this," he said, shifting his hands up a mite so Doyle could see the book. Then he looked up at Doyle, afraid the man might misinterpret his last words. "I mean, obviously I did, wouldn't let nothin' happen to it, it's your book. But just. I. Since you weren't there, I woulda liked to." He looked back down, heat bursting in his face. "Read it myself." Read it and pretend it was Doyle reading it to him, more like, but. "I know it's stupid and I'm too old to learn proper like and I could never pay for your time anyway, but. I just."
He near jumped out of his skin when the door opened to let a coffee-bearing Mrs. Leary in.