Having a house full of old books I can say with confidence they smell of dust, mothballs and something else peculiar.
I think it must be the smell of childhood, having not been able to part with any of an eclectic collection of books.
Welcome Enid Blyton, Biggles and Milly Molly Mandy to name but a few, plus my year five reader.
Smells like childhood never really leaves you.
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