There was an etiquette book not surprisingly relegated to the free box outside a book store that was magic. Authored by the Fenwick that was Millicent.
The block of discovery was in the wilds of Chicago’s South Side known for much magic. Cool guys in ponchos and cute girls on bicycles.
Above the bookstore was a student apartment with an unpalatable bathroom marginally improved by a picture of palm trees above the air shaft required by city ordinance.
Would Millicent approve? Do NOT call me George. Please.
Either way there was love!
