I dropped by there the other day and was fortunate to get another 10 books. One of the books was Black Narcissus by Rumer Goden.
This book is a psychological story of a group of nuns working in the Himalayas long ago. I already have a copy of this book but when I handled it I saw pieces of tissue paper sticking out of the pages.
Of course anyone who buys old books is always fascinated by anything found in these books. I was delighted to open this book and find 5 sheets of very neatly folded onion skin writing paper with flowers gently pressed inside.
My mind always runs away with me as to what the flowers might represent. Did a young person walk through Hobart's bush settings to sit in the sun with notepaper, pen and a book? But instead gathered flowers?
Was it a girl? Was she alone. Did her beau give them to her? Was she suffering a loss and finding comfort in the petals? Was she a botanist?
I have placed it in its proper place on the shelf with the other Penguins from that year (1950) and one day someone else will find them and make up their own tale.