"You might have found a less conspicious carrier," Dr. C. announced, setting his brown paper bundle on the library table. All around him were the great redwood bookcases, old and terrible, now empty.
Dr. B. poked at the high flames in the fireplace, entranced by each flicker of light. Papers burning away to hot ash, snakes of smoke swept up the chimney, wisps and ghost-lights.
"He is the perfect example of what we have been trying to mitigate against," C. continued, clearing his throat.
"At your own peril," B. replied at last, if not to the particular complaint expressed, setting the poker back on the hanging rack.
"Tempus fugit, Doctor?"
"This is very powerful material. We must acquire the appropriate implements to continue the work," C. answered, slowly.