Marbled endpapers, Mr. McCredie observed, meant nothing to children. But they meant a lot to those who loved color and beauty and stories that would never end. And Carmen made sure to put lots of children’s books next to them, so the adults would buy a fancy gift for themselves and then often something not quite so precious for the children. Carmen also emailed Ramsay and told him she could sell as many Christmas books as he could unearth, and he had sent her a jolly thumbs-up and started on a mission for her.

FLUSHED BY HER own success, Carmen was feeling unstoppable. “Maybe I should do a story time next,” she said.

Mr. McCredie raised his eyebrows. “Do I have to be there?” he said. “It’s just . . . there would be rather a lot of children.”

She had noticed how anxious he got when sticky fingers approached his beloved first editions. “Quite the opposite. You’ll need a rest from manning the till so much. I order you to stay in the back sitting room while I do it.”

He smiled at her, and Carmen had the oddest sensation that this might just work.

THE FOLLOWING TUESDAY morning, the bell tinged just as Carmen was wondering why young Mr. McCredie didn’t turn some more of his books out with their covers facing customers; it seemed a reasonably obvious retail thing to do, but then things seemed to work differently here.

She got down from the stepladder and smiled brightly, waiting for the inevitable “Is young Mr. McCredie not about?” This could be said in a variety of different ways, Carmen had learned, and in this man’s case—he was thin, with a knobbly red face, wearing a long greasy-looking overcoat and clutching a much-used plastic bag stuffed with papers—it was said furtively, and for the first time, she saw a sigh of relief when she said, “No, it’s just me.”

“Well then,” he said, arriving at the glass-topped desk, pushing aside several copies of Christmas with the Savages that Carmen was cheerfully planning to recommend to today’s customers. “Doesn’t look very Christmassy, your shop.”

“I know,” said Carmen, who was thinking the same thing, but she couldn’t spend the shop’s money, as they didn’t have any and they were in the red already. Maybe she should ask Sofia, although she balked at the idea.