"Ohhh," she assured him quickly. "One never reads a book the same way twice. That's the beauty of books; there's always something new to love and something new to think about. Plus, whatever book you put into my hand in a week's time, I'll read it with the thought of how it made it to your notice. Even if it were one I've read dozens of times before, it will still be different."
She sat back down on the couch and picked up her tea. "Perhaps," she mused, sipping between the first word and the following sentence, "10 a.m.? That's early enough for tea, I think, and it would give us enough time to talk about Cyrano, too. I always cry at t.... Well, I won't ruin it for you, Jack. But I do hope you enjoy it."