A further issue is the author's attempt to convey the accents of yester-year in dialogue. This is unnecesary and misguided. Anglo characters using, 'wiff' or 'eard', and Germans employing 'vat' is dubious enough, but a Chinese apothecary saying, 'velly' raises the hackles. Such jarring moments detract from the otherwise fluid prose, replete with a poet's eye for detail.

With such little time to get to know the characters, there is forcibly a certain amount of 'info-dump' in each chapter. This would be forgivable if the stories were teased out at greater length. As it stands, Abacus feels like a draft or an outline for a much grander, more sumptuous novel. An additional few years of work and a few hundred more pages of expansion were required here. Armand is clearly a writer of talent, but Abacus is a frustrating entry in his canon.