The Other Side Of The Wardrobe, 1: Peg stopped her dusting when she heard the clomping of feet thundering up the spiral staircase and toward the study where she had been hoping to finish the massive project that dusting the 4,432 books the Emeritus had on display here, together with the combined knick-knacks, stuffed wildlife, globes, magnifying glasses and other articles the Emeritus had gathered in his long and distinguished career as an explorer, royal astronomer, soldier, and, finally, professor. Shame he doesn't get to the library often, Peg thought as the gallumphs of boots mixed with the click-clack of patent-leather shoes. She recognized the sound, and sighed. They were once again heading to the Wardrobe. She briefly considered trying to head them off. She was hungry, and had errands to run. But it was likely too late. She laid the feather-duster on the edge of the table, and saw the heavy handle tip the thing off and start it falling to the floor. It never hit the ground