Picardy was rich and somewhat noteworthy but he still hadn't crossed into fame in many circles, and so Peregrine supposed that he ought not be surprised to be asked. He wasn't happy about it, though - he'd hoped to somehow get in and out of the bookstore in about forty five seconds.
"He's the scholar who writes on werewolves," Peregrine said in a tone that borderlined on bored, on the off chance that the woman could be helpful to his quest for Picardy's books. He could get away with light impoliteness, but forgoing small talk and niceties entirely was still reserved to the extremely rich and eccentric. Even Picardy himself couldn't get away with it sometimes.
"He's the scholar who writes on werewolves," Peregrine said in a tone that borderlined on bored, on the off chance that the woman could be helpful to his quest for Picardy's books. He could get away with light impoliteness, but forgoing small talk and niceties entirely was still reserved to the extremely rich and eccentric. Even Picardy himself couldn't get away with it sometimes.