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"That’s a little aard," she s Did we sell books that should never have left us?"

Ga, dreading the answer, perhaps, but wanting to hear it anyway As he watched her he noticed a few things, details that caught his eye The faded and even frayed upholstery of the sofa and his own chair A few floorboards heaved slightly, out of alignment They could be easily nailed back to place A handlefrom one of the doors of a cupboard

"I’m afraid you did They were Father Chiniquy’s personal journals and diaries"

She closed her eyes but did not lower her head When she opened theain a moment later her eyes were still steady but perhaps a little sad

"Oh dear, that’s not good news The board will have to be told"

"They’re evidence now but I suspect if you speak with Monsieur Renaud’sshe ht sell them back at a reasonable price"

She looked relieved "That would be wonderful Thank you"

"But one isFrom 1869"

"Really?"

"It was one of the books ere looking for, one of the books Augustin Renaud makes reference to in his own journals"

"Why 1869?"

"I don’t know" And that was true, to a point He actually had a very good idea why, but wasn’t going to talk about it just yet

"And the other book?"

"Missing too We’ve found the lot it was bought with, but it could be anything" He put his cup down carefully on the tray "Did you ever hear of ain the Literary and Historical Society between Father Chiniquy, Jalas and two Irish workers?"

"In the late 1800s?" She was surprised "No Irish workers you say?" Ga, but frowned

"What is it?"

"It’s just unlikely the Irish would have come to the Lit and His back then Nowadays, yes, we have lots of members who are Irish There isn’t such a distinction, thank God But I’m afraid back then there was a lot of anilish"