Allen carefully put his gold ring, his silver pocket watch, and his diamond pin back into his pockets.
Camilla walked a few slow steps closer to him. Her soft leather shoes made almost no sound on the wet ground.
"So what are you doing here, Allen?" Camilla asked. Her voice was now soft, calm, and utterly serious.
Allen slowly lifted his head. He looked at her with his honest, polite eyes. As he met her gaze, a very deep shadow of sadness covered his face. His shoulders slumped forward under his coat. He looked like a man who was carrying a massive, crushing weight of failure on his back.
He let out a long quiet sigh. He looked down at his dirty leather boots, unable to keep looking into her eyes.
"I was here to do some survey," Allen spoke softly. His voice was raspy and full of a deep, painful shame. He rubbed his hands together nervously. "My textile establishment is not doing good."
