Once, however, he had a pleasure. He had gone out with a Robert Estienne, which he had sold for thirty-five sous under the Quai Malaquais, and he returned with an Aldus which he had bought for forty sous in the Rue des Gres.—‘I owe five sous,’ he said, beaming on Mother Plutarque. That day he had no dinner.

This is a book that I might give up my dinner for. It is masterfully written and the story was excellent.