The bad news is, aside from a brief mention of a particular style of illuminated letter "Q" that I'll have to take a look at, the book I checked out seems more useful in pinpointing manuscripts that actually have illustrations. The one I have has none; it's pretty bare-bones and if anything, this suggests it's unusual for a Parisian manuscript.

I'll keep looking through the book later, though during my lunch break I decided to set it aside and check messages online. While I was on, I couldn't resist doing a bit of online research.

I actually found a windfall.

I discovered that the book's stated owner, Ludovici (Louis) Pinelle, could not have been its first owner. I had an inkling that this was the case, as the colophon with his name is written in a hand that looks more 16th century. Sure enough, I discovered that Loius Pinelle (who later became the Bishop of Meaux) died on the 2nd or 8th of January 1516.

I also discovered that the very book I've been studying was listed in a Sotheby's auction catalog from 1871. It was part of the estate of a bookseller named Joseph Lilly, sold after his death in what must have been one of the most impressive auctions of rare books in history. It is possible that a number of the Wilson Collection's books come from the same collection though I have not had time to go over its contents.

In all, I'm extremely excited to have cracked this much about the text and its history. I'm going to try to find out a little about Joseph Lilly, then I'm going to chill for the afternoon because although I didn't find the prize I was looking for, I got a nice consolation for my trouble.