"Mr. Blackwell?"
Blackwell looked in the direction of the voice to see a man with a tall figure, wearing a dark vest and a white shirt, standing at the staircase entrance.
"Mr. Richard Hsuet?" Blackwell was slightly taken aback, then put down the table knife, half surprised and half suspicious as he stood up: "What are you doing here?"
Richard Hsuet placed his right hand behind his waist, his left forearm draped with a white cloth, as he walked over half-jokingly: "These years working as a gendarme in Russia have been too exhausting, and the pay isn't much, so after much consideration, I thought I'd better resign and return to London."
