Zachariah peered down at a bit of parchment with deep creases from constant folding.  He never ventured from the shop without a detailed list of books he was meant to fetch.  Every second week of the even numbered months was dedicated to his travels.  As it was nearing the end of said week, he had saved his London pursuits for last. It also allowed him the opportunity for a bit of leisure before he returned.

But, business first.

He tucked his list into the pocket of a well-loved travel coat that sported the evidence of a few light ink stains he had yet to remove. Freshly printed books tended to cause a bit of a mess, and he had promised a local author he would handle them personally.

The door to the antique shop was pushed open with his shoulder. It took him a moment of distracted peering around at all of the collected knickknacks before he heard a woman singing. Stepping around a display, he caught sight of her, not yet recognizing her.

"Pardon me, Miss?"