Mr. James Denton

Denton is caught between the demands of his aunt's decorating campaign and his own weakness for old books, a weakness that has already cost him her sharp disapproval. He secures Poynter's manuscript diary for twelve pounds ten, a small triumph that feels like a private indulgence amid chintzes and lawn-tennis parties. That purchase is the hinge on which the story turns, drawing him from domestic errands toward an inheritance far stranger than furniture.