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| style="vertical-align:top;" | The | Monkey Spoons |}

Line drawing of a man reading whilst sitting at a desk, surrounded by antiquities.

"Funeral spoons.... What a gift for a man to give his bride!" The little shop seemed to have taken the musty, worm-eaten quality of furniture and relics it offered for sale. There was an all-pervasive odor of mildew and decaying wood. Dust motes whirled in a shaft of sunlight as the street door opened, with the hushed tinkle of a bell above the sedate gold letters: JONATHAN SPROULL, ANTIQUES.