"Yeah," Elmer replied as if it was obvious and quite simple. He didn't have a ton of them in his shop, but there was a handful. Some relatives did sell their dead relatives' diaries. In another instance, a man had sold him a selection of old books and his sister's diary had found its way to them, accidentally.

"No famous people, no. Well - I have the diary of a potioneer and aspiring alchemist who blew himself up. He left only a handful of body parts to his wife and lots of debts. It's sad, but these stories make the best customers." The woman was in need of money and she had sold a few of the departed's objects. She'd tried to argue that her husband's diaries could contribute to science. Elmer did have more scholarly interests when he wasn't pursuing art and people he shouldn't go to bed with. In any case, it had been more entraining to read about the man's affairs than his experiments.

Elmer walked up to the shelf he kept it and pulled it out, then walked up to the young man and handed him to worn notebook. "You can take a look, if you want. I have a bookmark in my favourite part."