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Sempere and Sons bookshop on Calle Santa Ana. It
smelled of old paper and dust and it was my
on a chair in a corner and read any book I likedto i
35 sanctuary, my refuge. The bookseller would let me
my heart's content He hardly ever allowed me to pay
for the books he placed in my hands, but when he
wasn t looking Id leave the coins I'd managed to
40 collect on the counter before I left. It was only small
change-if I'd had to buy a book with that pittance, I
would probably have been able to afford only a
booklet of cigarette papers. When it was time for me
to leave, I would do so dragging my feet, a weight on
45 my soul. If it had been up to me, I would have stayed
there forever.
One Christmas Sempere gave me the best gift I
have ever received. It was an old volume, read and
experienced to the full.
50 "Great Expectations, by Charles Dickens, "I read
on the cover.
I was aware that Sempere knew a few authors who
frequented his establishment and, judging by the
care with which he handled the volume, I thought
55 perhaps this Mr. Dickens was one of them
“ A friend of yours?”
“A lifelong friend And from now on, he's your
friend too.”
That afternoon I took my new friend home,
60 hidden under my clothes so that my father wouldn't
see it. It was a rainy winter, with days as gray as lead
and I read Great Expectations about nine times,
partly because I had no other book at hand, partly
because I did not think there could be a better one in
65 the whole world and I was beginning to suspect that
Mr. Dickens had written it just for me. Soon I was
convinced that i didn' t want to do anything else in
life but learn to do what Mr. Dickens had done.
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