The door swung open, and Vincent's nose was filled with the scent of old books and dust, a lingering hint of pipe tobacco among the mix.  Alice led the way, peering here and there.<br/><br/>"Edgar!  Are you in?"<br/><br/>After the third such call, an ancient voice answered her.<br/><br/>"Yes, yes, one moment!"<br/><br/>Footfalls from the depths of the store approached, and an elderly man shuffled forth.  He was dressed unusually, looking like nothing so much as a historical re-enactor after a Neo-Victorian Convention.<br/><br/>"And what can I do for you youngsters?"<br/><br/>"This is Vincent.  He would like to see the Bookwyrm."<br/><br/>Ancient eyes turned to measure Vincent, narrowing with suspicion.  "Is this true, young man?"