Gloin’s probably the guy who keeps a really thorough diary? I mean, accountants are big on writing stuff down. And he wants to leave something behind for his family in case he dies? So he has shelves and shelves of filled diary books. Some are cheap little notebooks from when they couldn’t afford much, some are fancier. He can’t do it while traveling, which annoys him – he finds it helpful to write things down.

Awwww, he would! He definitely would, Nonnie. And he writes the dates on the spines very carefully, and every now and then when someone says something a little odd, he’ll frown and hold up a finger. Wait.

Then he’ll cross the room, tugging out his reading glasses, his white hair edging towards his old red in the candlelight. That finger will slide over the spines, and he’ll select one, ever so delicately. And turn a few pages.

Then he’ll make a noise in his throat like a satisfied bear, before looking up and taking off his glasses. Grim vindication all over his face. “Thought so. You’re a damn liar. Get out o’ my office before I kick you out.”