At dusk, Jerome left the library with a manuscript tucked under his arm.
Only after he walked out the front door did he realize that perhaps he shouldn't have done that. He shouldn't have taken a manuscript containing unpublished material with him.
Who knew what kind of utterly outrageous ethical drama might somehow be dug up from its contents? If the people involved still had living descendants, it could get very entertaining. One wrong move, and it might even escalate into bloodshed.
But when he thought about how little anyone had paid him any attention all day, he soon relaxed and made his way to the dining hall with the papers tucked under his arm, entirely at ease.
If the hosts didn't care, then there couldn't be anything particularly sensitive in there.
He'd timed dinner perfectly. The big names in academia were still hard at it in the Great Hall; their heated debate could be heard from the other side of the courtyard.
He could just make out that the last speaker's presentation had provoked differing opinions. The two sides were interpreting the new discovery from their own perspectives, looking for flaws in each other's theories to attack. It seemed to be heading toward personal insults.
He'd already picked out several names from the list of speakers, and more kept joining the fray.
Unlike the lively atmosphere in the Great Hall, the dining hall was quiet and nearly empty. Only a few young scholars like him wandered among the sumptuous dishes, helping themselves to chicken drumsticks and picking out the reddest berries from the fruit platters.
When they saw a newcomer, they made room for him, then hurried to fill their plates.
Jerome joined them a little sheepishly. After serving himself enough for dinner, a midnight snack, and breakfast the