“Willis effortlessly juggles comedy of manners, chaos theory and a wide range of literary allusions [with a] near flawlessness of plot, character and prose.”— Publishers Weekly (starred review) From Connie Willis, winner of multiple Hugo and Nebula Awards, comes a comedic romp through an unpredictable world of mystery, love, and time travel. Ned Henry is badly in need of a rest. He’s been shuttling between the twenty-first century and the 1940s in search of a hideous Victorian vase called “the bishop’s bird stump” as part of a project to restore the famed Coventry Cathedral, destroyed in a Nazi air raid. But then Verity Kindle, a fellow time traveler, inadvertently brings back something from the past. Now Ned must jump to the Victorian era to help Verity put things right—not only to save the project but also to prevent altering history itself. “How can a modern American capture so perfectly the lyrical beauty, the tumult of thought, the arrogance, prejudice and charm, the sheer Englishness of Oxford in 1888? . . . It is all a journey of wit, humor, love and the sheer joy of life.” —Anne Perry, The Wall Street Journal “Swiftly paced and full of laughter, Willis’ comedy of manners (and errors) is the most hilarious book of its kind since John Irving’s The Water-Method Man and A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole.” — Des Moines Sunday Register “I have long thought that Jerome K. Jerome's Three Men In A Boat is one of the highest points of Inimitable British Humor. I chuckle; I gurgle; I know those three men—to say nothing of the dog. And now I am convinced there was a woman concealed in that boat, too: Connie Willis.” —Laurie R. King Connie Willis has won six Nebula and Six Hugo Awards (more than any other science fiction writer) and the John W. Campbell Memorial Award for her first novel, Lincoln’s Dreams. Her novel Doomsday Book won both the Nebula and Hugo Awards, and her first short-story collection, Fire Watch, was a New York Times Notable Book. Her other works include Bellwether, Impossible Things, Remake, and Uncharted Territory. Ms. Willis lives in Greeley, Colorado, with her family. "We must join hands," the Count said to Tossie, taking her hand in his. "Like this . . ." "Yes, yes, we must all join hands," Mrs. Mering said.  "Why, Madame Iritosky!" Madame Iritosky was standing in the doorway, draped in a flowing purple robe with wide sleeves.  "I have been summoned by the spirits to serve as your guide this evening in the parting of the veil."  She touched the back of her hand to her forehead.  "It is my duty, no matter what the cost to me." "How wonderful!"  Mrs.  Mering said.  "Do come sit down.  Baine, pull up a chair for Madame Iritosky." "No, no," Madame Iritosky said, indicating Professor Peddick's chair.  "It is here that the teleplasmic vibrations converge."  Professor Peddick obligingly changed chairs. At least she hadn't sat down next to Verity, but she was next to Count de Vecchio, which meant she'd have one hand free.  And next to me, which meant I was going to have an even harder time lifting tables. "There is too much light," she said.  "There must be dark—"  She looked round the parlor.  "Where is my cabinet?" "Yes, Baine," Mrs.  Mering said.  "I told you to put it in here." "Yes, madam," he said bowing.  "One of the doors was broken, so that it would not lock properly, and I removed it to the kitchen for repairs.  I have repaired it.  Would you like me to bring it in now?" "No!"  Madame Iritosky said.  "That will not be necessary." "As you wish," Baine said. "I feel that there will not be manifestations tonight," she said.  "The spirits wish to speak to us only.  Join hands," she ordered, draping her voluminous purple sleeves over the table. I grabbed her right hand and grasped it firmly. "No!" she said, wrenching it away.  "Lightly." "So sorry," I said.  "I'm new at this sort of thing." She laid her hand back in mine.  "Baine, turn down the lights," she said.  "The spirits can only come to us in candlelight.  Bring a candle.  Here."  She indicated a flower-stand near her elbow. Baine lit the candle and turned the lights down. "Do not turn the lights up on any account," she ordered.  "Or attempt to touch the spirits or the medium.  It could be dangerous." Tossie giggled, and Madame Iritosky began to cough.  Her hand let go of mine.  I took the opportunity to extend the wires from my wrists and hook them under the table. "I beg your pardon.  My throat," Madame Iritosky said, and slipped her hand in mine again.  And if Baine had turned up the lights, it would have been dangerous, all right.  I would have bet anything it would have revealed Count de Vecchio's hand in mine.  Not to mention my own hanky-panky. There was a faint rustling on my right.  Verity, moving her garter into position. "I've never been at a seance before," I said loudly to cover it.  "We shan't hear bad news, shall we?" "The spirits speak as they will," Mad