I had made a new friend, the coolest father in my youngest son’s nursery class. He spoke in a kind, soft voice, smiled often, and made thick plaid pants and corduroys look very stylish. We bonded: We were both spending long hours ferrying our children from Brooklyn to the very chic Upper East Side Lycée Français de New York and back again; I was a freelance writer specializing in design and architecture; William Hall was a rare and out-of-print books dealer who ran his business, High Valley Books, out of his living room. Happy to have made a new friend and desperate for ideas, I made an appointment to visit him.
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