Today the usual comforting scent of all those books was cut through with the citrusy sharp bite of Earl Gray tea. Mr. Seagon’s wife had already taken care of that part of the normal table full of refreshments for Odds and Endings customers, set up at the end of the long hallway (also lined with bookshelves).
Mr. Seagon’s part of that welcome was thin, crisp, light-as-air ginger cookies, and he was halfway down the hall to fetch them before George got himself inside and closed the door. For her part, the dog sat on the gleaming hardwood floor close beside his legs, peering around with her rapid-fire sniffing.
“Here we go,” Mr. Seagon said, on his way back with a little purple napkin in each hand. George knew they’d have the stylized O and E logo on them without having to look. “Something
