The two friends struggled through the next day as best they could.

It was far too much for them to really rip everything to shreds so they satisfied themselves with pulling out intentionally blank pages, errata and other end pages and then hurling the books to one side. The courtyard was knee-deep in books and papers and pages anyway so they figured that no one would really notice what they were doing.

Furthermore, and because both men were eidetic in their recall, Gilly and Mac set about trying to roughly catalogue every book, manuscript and pamphlet they came across.

‘The ground will be our new shelves,’ whispered Gilly. ‘We must at least try to remember every name and title we read here.’

‘Melvil Dewey would turn in his perfectly-indexed grave,’ smiled Mac.

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