Yet lo, and behold, there on the third shelf down way on the right hand side, she lay. Granted, it's not the exact one I wanted - I'd have preferred to find the version translated by Tolkien - but who really complains when the universe bends realistic expectations for you in the first place? And now I get to chase myMerlinbinge with some anonymous Arthurian prose about chivalry and such, deliciously punctuated by the mental images ofBradley JamesandEoin Macken. No complaints here.
Is that serendipity? I can never keep the definition of that word in my head.