You came in on a whim. Or maybe just to get out of the weather. Now you can’t bring yourself to leave. The walls are lined with bookshelves from floor to ceiling, the topmost ones accessible only by ladder. Sunlight streaming in through windows in the vaulted ceiling illuminate scratched wooden tables. The floors creak underfoot –– unless they’re marble. (I’ll leave the choice of flooring up to you.) Tread softly or you’ll disturb the antiquarian bookseller snoozing on