“Very well. Then how many books from these shelves are on long-term loan?”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you that either.”
“Surely it isn’t just the shelves I’m reading that have an unusual number of them?”
“Well, that’s…”
“Do you know how many books I’ve been told are on long-term loan since half a year ago, and have never seen even once?”
Pushing up her slipping glasses, Cetila considered briefly, then answered with a smile.
“Forty-seven.”
Gene was momentarily taken aback. He had not known Cetila would have the answer, nor had he asked because he knew the precise number himself. Then he thought for a moment. In this situation, Cetila had no reason to lie to him, no need to be evasive, and no reason to tease him. If she did not know, she could simply say so. Forty-seven was therefore probably correct. Why did Cetila remember that? Surely she had not memorized every book Gene had read?
Experiencing for himself the librarians’ legendary memory was rather disconcerting. It made him feel he ought to look back and consider whether he had ever done anything foolish in front of this woman. Of course, there was no chance of remembering everything.
“How do you remember that?”
Looking up at Gene, Cetila tilted her head from side to side. A smile still touched her lips. It was the smile of someone posing a riddle.
“Well, think about it. Why do I remember?”
Unable even to imagine, Gene immediately shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
Cetila looked disappointed. It seemed she had expected Gene to consider the reason, find one somewhere entirely wrong, and become a little more flustered. Something like “because I’m interested in you,” for instance.
“I felt bad, so I gave you a hint.”
Gene did not perceive Cetila’s deeper meaning, but he soon understood what she meant by a hint. Scholars could borrow ten books. Long-term borrowers, then, could borrow up to fifty. Even for a long-term loan, it was practically impossible for the deadline to exceed half a year.
There were more than a hundred schools in the library. The largest had a thousand scholars. Hundreds of people in Delphinad had the status required for long-term borrowing as well. With so many people gathered to read, if each could pile fifty books at home for half a year, the shelves would soon be in a terrible state.
Only a very few long-term borrowers with exceptionally powerful connections, people whom even the librarians could not casually press, could therefore keep books for half a year without returning them. Forty-seven books were presently missing in that way. Famous as the librarians were for their memory, they could hardly keep a number in mind if it changed every day. Nor could Cetila have predicted that Gene would ask the question today and memorized it in advance.
So the number must have remained unchanged for quite a long time. Perhaps for half a year. And forty-seven came very close to the borrowing limit of fifty. Every one of those books was something Gene had sought. Consequently, their subjects were connected.
Could the borrower be a single person?
And might that person have the same interest as Gene?
As his thoughts reached that point, Gene’s brow tightened. Who was that person? Had they perhaps dreamed the same dream?
He could not know whether Cetila had meant to include all of that in “forty-seven.” He looked at her again. At the sharpness of his gaze, she flinched and widened her eyes.
“They say librarians cherish books so much that, when many are overdue, they worry over them like children who have left home. Is that true?”
“Ah, well…”
Compared with the intensity of his manner, the question was so mild that Cetila looked surprised. Then she smiled wryly.
“I suppose it’s something like that. I have no children, so I can’t say for certain.”
“In that case, you must worry a great deal over forty-seven children.”
“If I start thinking about them, there’s no end to it. I try not to think if I can.”
“What about sending a letter requesting their return?”
“We do send them. There isn’t much response.”
Gene had tried to lead her into revealing how they pressed a delinquent borrower, not expecting an answer. It came more readily than he had expected. If he had asked, “How do you press them?” she would surely have said she could not tell him.
After a glance around, Gene bent forward over the desk. As his face drew closer, Cetila looked a little startled, then blushed. Lowering his voice, he spoke.
“Write one now. It’ll have an effect this time.”
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