The sky over London hasn't completely dimmed yet, but the shadows of the trees in Hyde Park have quietly lengthened.
In the row of townhouses opposite Hyde Park, the lights are on in the living room.
Arthur holds a newspaper in one hand and fiddles with a deck of playing cards in the other, the silver card box is placed in the center of the red beechwood round table.
As for Eld who just got off work and came home, he buries his face behind a novel covered in a red book jacket, lifting his head every two lines to glance towards the kitchen, lest Becky, busy in the kitchen, discovers his little hobby.
But reading like this is too tiring; he spent ten minutes just finishing two pages, whereas normally, ten minutes would be enough for him to reach the main content, yet now he hasn't even seen the shadow of the male protagonist.
