Not a great score to close the day + £18.50 /- £100. The £100 was for some interesting stuff though, amongst them a history of Scottish music, and 'Memoirs of a Rifleman Scout' by Major F. M. Crum, who was a wizz( if ever a wizz there wazz) at sniping. I've already sold it over the telephone to a fellow bookdealer in Berwick at a healthy profit, the sale to be finalised at the Edinburgh Book Fair in in March. So next time the rat catcher comes in... I shall keep quiet about it. He isn't interested in MY triumphs as he sees me as the expert (!) and therefore someone he would like to impress. Touching really. With a gin in my hand and a nice piece of business transacted I can feel comfortably superior...
... until I remember that bum deal I made last week when I'd forgotten to change the Charity shop price in a book....

It keeps the ego in its place.

And so to bed. As someone said. It's a bit early but I have a fever. Bed means getting into my nightdress and rolling myself in a blanket to watch 'Die Zweite Heimat.' I'm going through it for the 3rd time. I don't want to have to give it back it is SO good. In my fever last night I was talking with all the characters. The terrible thing is that knowing as I do about Ansgar getting his foot caught in the tram door and dying, I wanted to tell him to take more care, but, as in Pauley's Peepholes (by??) I wasn't allowed to affect the passage of events. I woke up pouring sweat and crying.

Also fretting about who wrote Pauley's Peepholes. Probably John Wyndham. I shall Google it now.