I plunged straight into The Human Comedy and The Memoirs of a Man of Quality. Opposite me, her face shadowed by a huge hat covered with birds, a middle-aged lady was looking through old volumes of The Official Gazette; she was muttering and laughing to herself. In those days, anyone could use the library; all kinds of queer people and near-tramps used to take refuge there; they would talk to themselves, hum snatches of song, and gnaw at dry crusts of bread; there was one who used to walk up and down wearing a paper hat.
