Charles had been meaning to replace a copy of Romeo and Juliet that he was convinced his brother had destroyed with tea. Crispin had tried to blame the dogs, then their sister, but his shift in stories made the truth clear. It had been an accident, Charles had no doubts, but the book was still damaged.
He made his way through the shelves in the bookstore to the section he loved best. Shakespeare's works in all their glory. Another gentleman was browsing the same shelves, and Charles tried not to get in his way as his eyes scanned the spines of the books. He spotted the one he was looking for easily enough. It was almost in front of the other gentleman, who was reading.
"Pardon me," he said before taking a copy of Romeo and Juliet off of the shelf and taking a good step backwards. He disliked invading another person's personal space, especially that of a stranger.