He leapt deftly onto the spire, climbing up into the moonlight, shining past his silhouette.
He leaped and scuttled across the rooftops, nimbly unlocking the rooftop window.
He reached inside and pulled out the finest of treasures: a leather-bound novel.
The cream-colored leaves which filled it were bright as day in the moonlight.
In the morning, nothing had changed, save a small mark on page 224.
He would be back anon.
