RobertPlant was anxious. He was looking for my blessing.
For some time, we've been habitues, devotees if you will, of a rather excellent little secondhand book shop at the Stock Road Markets. RobertPlant heard the markets were closing down, though who knows if that's true, and has had ants in his pants to get back there and do his customary raid on the precious books.
This morning he decided he couldn't wait any longer and would go today. He rang me to confess: was that okay with me? Or would I despise him forever? I told him that in matters of the heart, he must do what is best for him.
Besides, as I so often remind him, he may be the one with the vast library, but I'm the one actually getting down to the business of reading the books. Yeah, he always hates that.