The best way to court this book is meeting it on a nondescript shelf at a quaint bookstore. You pick it up gently, ignore the blurb and other star-studded comments and start reading it then and there. Pay for it absent-mindedly on your way out and continue reading it till it's over. When this languid journey in an aging butler's mindscape will end, you will close the book with a sigh, a drop of tear and something welling up inside your chest you can't quite name. The author named him Stevens.
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