Liam spoke quietly then, unlike his usual louder, more exuberant pattern of speech. "You ought to pray. It might not do heaps of good, but it ain't doin' bad, neither. Pray to whatever it is what you feel comfortable believin'. God don't look out, got too much to do, but God wishes only the best for us. Wants good to happen, even though sometimes it ain't the case." He slipped into the shop after taking a quick look at the sign, smiling that the family was at least traditional in their ways in some little form.
He didn't take his hand off Miniver's shoulder even when they entered the bookstore, he simply scanned the place, smelled the scent of old books, of tea and fresh baking, of the faint scent of metal and oil from the next-door store. He saw the all-too-cozy looking chairs and couches, the piano still off to one side, the people still milling about in the aisles, reading, conversing, enjoying life. Truly, he thought, this was a place of solace.