Bookshopkeeper

One of the greatest temptations for the resort bookshopkeeper is to stock those miscellaneous articles which come under the heading of “gifts” or “souvenirs.” It is true that summer visitors will pick up some novelty to take home to the family. But they will no longer spend their precious money for those unnecessary gadgets which were such a good racket a few years ago. They want their money’s worth; so unless you have a real gift department and have bought during the year from reputable gift manufacturers, it is unwise to dabble in gifts.

One day my luck was an airy basement, in which like magic appeared a bamboo table, a portable gramophone, and a case of records, thoughtfully provided by a neighbouring bookshopkeeper-Warden: the records being taken from his stock-in-trade.

The same Miss Taylor is to be seen in Elephant Walk as a London bookshopkeeper who marries a dark and brooding plantation owner, goes out to Ceylon with him, and assumes the mantle of mistress of a fabulous estate.

Anyhow, one of the bookshopkeepers in the Science Exhibition grounds displays all kinds of foreign scientific books, but not this book.

In an Indian bookshop. “You look like a Tourist,” says the Indian bookshopkeeper to an Indian shopper in dark glasses and a tall wide floppy black hat.

One, after five years as a draughtsman, was on the ‘dole’; one, who had left school at fifteen, was a production designer in a large engineering firm; and one was a bookshopkeeper.

Mr. D. is 68 years of age and has been a bookshopkeeper in his small town for 40 years, married for 41 years, and has one son.

One of the implicated is Lesley Ann Warren, a chain-smoking, feminist poet and bookshopkeeper who turns out to play a pivotal role in the murder mystery hounding Woods.