line there is, and he tries bravely to conceal it from himself."
"I think it's too bad to give me away before Miss Titania," said Roger, smiling, so Titania saw this was merely a family joke.
"Really truly," she protested, "I'm having a lovely time. I've been learning all about Professor Latimer who wrote The Handle of Europe, and all sorts of things. I've been afraid every minute that some customer would come in and interrupt us."
"No fear of that," said Helen. "They're scarce in the early morning." She went back to her kitchen.
"Well, Miss Titania," resumed Roger. "You see what I'm driving at. I want to give people an entirely new idea about bookshops. The grain of glory that I hope will cure both my fever and my lethargicness is my conception of the bookstore as a power-house, a radiating place for truth and beauty. I insist books are not absolutely dead things: they are as lively as those fabulous dragons' teeth, and being sown up and down, may chance to spring up armed men. How about Bernhardi? Some of my Corn Cob friends tell me books are just merchandise. Pshaw!"
"I haven't read much of Bernard Shaw" said Titania.
