Her head bobs for a nod, and her hand moves to tug his coat a little tighter over her shoulder. (She wonders, is this rain ever going to let up?)

"Yeah, that's one of my main hobbies." She considers elaborating—with the story about how, as a sickly child, she could do little more than read books and browse the internet to pass the time, or how one of her parents (the second set, she could clarify) owned a bookstore, and how she spent much of her free time there, or how she eventually inherited the ownership of that store, and had never quite worked up the nerve to sell it afterwards...

But, instead, she shrugs her shoulders. Something like that isn't important at all, is it? "Where is that? The library, I mean."