[Tony sets the gloves aside and leans back against the table. He could jump in with her (learning for the sake of learning has always been a vice), but he knows he'd be outclassed in a microsecond. Better to just keep out of the way and leave her to it.]

About a year. Met Stannish —the owner— at a charity event. Said my books helped his daughter through his divorce and wanted to offer me something in thanks.

[A shrug. It's a little bit...ironic? Funny? Depressingly relatable that his books would help someone. That's not why he writes them (most of them anyway), but he understands the need to escape from reality to a world where problems are resolvable affairs. More than he cares to share.]

Haven't even been through an eighth if the texts in this room. If you want I can request access for you. There's a few historians and librarians he lets work in here.