This book has a special place in my heart because it was the first "collectable" book I ever bought. At that time I was just as happy to read a beat up paperback to library book and I had no idea what it meant to have a first edition. (I later found out I had quite a few of them.) Anyway, I had already read most of the stories in the book but I bought it because it had the most fabulous cover I'd ever seen and it was in perfect condition. It had this little piece of paper that said it was a review copy tucked in side.
I never actually read the book itself. There was only one story I hadn't read and I easily found that somewhere else. It was clear the book had never been read before and I wanted to leave it that way.
As book collectors go I'm a failure. I still don't understand why a lousy book with a perfect dust jacket is worth more than a torn water stained copy of James Joyce or Henry Miller. But this one book gives me an inkling of what they must feel when they find a treasure. ( )