"This is where I spend my leisure. This is where I withdraw into a solitude even more complete than that in which I live. These books"--pointing to a case near by--"represent the pitifully meager contribution which I have made to the world while you and my other classmates have taken the positions to which you are entitled. That I show them to you now is a confession of the narrow outlook I have always had on life." Huntington was busy examining the volumes, one by one, giving no sign that he heard the crisp words. He turned the leaves critically, he examined the bindings, he studied the typography and the designs. Then at length he looked up. "I was mistaken when I said I did not know you," he remarked. "I don't understand," Hamlen replied. "Printing as an art has always been a hobby of mine," Huntington explained. "With two exceptions I have every one of these books in my collection at home." The color came into Hamlen's face. "You mean--" he began. "I mean that these splendid examples of the bookmaker's art have attracted much attention among those of us who understand what they represent, and I count myself fortunate to be the first to solve the mystery which has surrounded them, when I next meet with my fellow-collectors." "How is it possible," demanded Hamlen, "that any of these should have fallen into your hands?" "Were they not placed upon the market?" "I did not suppose any of them reached America," Hamlen explained. "Out of curiosity to see what would happen I sent the first volumes to a dealer in London, and he has been kind enough to take the subsequent volumes as they have been issued." "And kind enough to himself," Huntington added, "to call the attention of all the leading collectors to the uniqueness of the work. Some time I will show you his circulars if you care to know what he thinks of you; and I may add that there is none of us who considers his claims exaggerated." "Then the work is good?" Hamlen asked, unable to conceal his excitement. "It is superb both in conception and execution; but its greatest merit is its originality. Most of the good printing and binding which we have to-day rests definitely in conception upon some one of the great master-printers or binders of the past: the work of Aldus, Jenson, Étienne, Plantin, Elzevir, Baskerville, Didot, William Morris, is drawn upon to greater or less degree by every modern printer, the volumes of Grolier, Maiolus, or Geoffroy Tory are revived in nearly every modern binding of importance; but your books are absolutely unique. Frankly, I don't sympathize with all of them, but there is not one which does not interest me. Tell me, where did you learn the art of bookmaking enough to make yourself a master?" "Your praise is too high," Hamlen answered deprecatingly.