I bought *the* most amazing book at Mast. Regrettably (or just exactly as he intended it?), the author Torvald Faegre appears to have left very little other trace on the surface of reality – the internet offers only listings for used copies of this long out-of-print book, and a brief obituary. It’s either the saddest or the most perfect and beautiful thing, or both.
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The buyer at Mast has an exquisite eye, and I always leave there having spent more than I intended to, on books I perforce thereafter have to haul back across the Atlantic.
