She comes in. "Happy Birthday," she says as she steps over to kiss his cheek.
"We've got most of the day free, and these," she smiles and hands him the two books wrapped in brown paper. "Are for you." She's quite positive he doesn't have either of them; the benefit of knowing where nearly all his stuff is. One's on linguistics, the other's filled with rather pretty photographs of things like petrified wood.
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