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Chapter Forty Three
Oliver was standing in front of the shelves in the family library.
He sometimes thought it was enough to just spend time there, surrounded by some of the rarest editions of books. He was trying not to think about what had happened last night, so he'd come here.
He hadn’t seen Callum in a day.
Again.
He turned his attention back to the rows in front of him. Oliver had begun understanding why Callum preferred it here.
It was different from the one Tennyson had in his study not only by size.
The collections here were much more different and wondered how many years it had taken to gather them, how many generations of noblemen had held them in their hands.
A great number of them were on political topics, but Oliver found with a surprise the collection contained various other types of stories in other genres.
The books were prevailingly in English, but some were in German and French.
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D FoxO.O
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