Hearing Shard mention the letter again, the blue-eyed middle-aged psychologist showed an embarrassed expression:
"This is private, I plan to read it once I'm on the train."
"You really haven't considered..."
"No, I haven't considered it."
The doctor shook his head slightly and looked calmly at Shard:
"I know her intentions; she indeed is a good woman. But as you know my situation, I can't involve someone else before that matter is resolved."
"It makes sense, it's just that I feel regretful."
"Pursuing a good outcome is quite nice, but sometimes reality is just like this. Regret... yes, regret."
He looked at the corner of the envelope protruding from the notebook, recalling the scene this morning when he bid farewell to the two proprietors of the Green Lake Hotel. With a sigh in his heart, he took out the envelope, folded it, and put it in the inside pocket of his coat.
