I step aside as three bargain-hunting women barge into the Oxfam bookshop in Chapel Place under the impression that it is the more general sort of charity shop selling discarded clothes, lonely teacups, prints of imperial India and the like. "It's all boo oks!" one of the women says, her north country accent doing nothing to hide her disappointment.
Pendulous blooms of wisteria are outside the study window, and beyond, across the road there is more wisteria on the wall of the house opposite.
Coming out of the Grove this windy afternoon I hear the sound of the sea in the tree-tops.