While Rosaline was still processing this, Harry asked, “How many of them books you read, anyway?” “About one a week for the last fifty years.” Rosaline couldn’t quite help doing the maths. “That’s two and a half thousand books.” “Yes, my husband’s forever making bookshelves. I should probably give them to charity, but it’s a collection now.” “Well”—Harry gave an easygoing shrug—“don’t let us keep you from your billionaire.” Nora grinned. “Wild horses couldn’t. You certainly can’t.”
