Re: Antique Store: Louis/Sparrow
"I will," he said. As a matter of fact, he was almost sure he'd seen a bird just the other day - somewhere in this jumble, god only knew where. Once she was gone he would look again.
"So neither is for you?" he asked, with interest. "You're very generous." That was just a fact - these were not typical gifts or inexpensive ones, and the people who received them would, no doubt, come knocking at his door asking who had purchased them. It didn't worry him, really. This was a quiet place, and surely anyone who received anything so beautiful would ask out of gratitude only. "Of course I can have it delivered. When we're done, I'll have you write down the addresses for me, and I'll have it seen to."
Like having the shop in good order, there was something satisfying about that thought, about making sure these objects got to their respective owners with care. It was a little odd, that feeling, but he didn't question it. Anything resembling contentment was unfamiliar, and appreciated. "I won't forget."
He reached down below the counter again, underneath the cabinet, and this time removed the prayer book. The tag read simply, Prayer Book, German, 18th Cent., Locked.
And locked it was. "Now, I feel obligated to tell you that there doesn't appear to be a key," he said, with a hint of real apology. He'd been so sure the little thing would turn up eventually, despite that pessimistic tag, but there was no sign of the damn thing. "I wouldn't recommend trying to force it, but someone with...creative enough talents might be able to get it open. I'll enclose a note for your intended recipient." He paused, aware this fact might change her mind. "Would you still like it?"
The book was weathered and decorated sumptuously with gilt and the silver fixtures. Someone had polished them not too long ago, because where the leather was cracked and crumbling, the silver was bright as the day it was minted. The cover was just a little warmer than the air under the palm, and the silver on the front was worked in a motif of mourning. There was something substantial about it. Comforting and steady.