Lewis's face completely froze; he could feel his ears burning, as if the congealed blood stains were starting to scorch his skin again.
He wanted to deny it, wanted to explain, wanted to say it was a misunderstanding, an accident, a result of being misunderstood.
But all those thoughts seemed too noisy in front of Sir Arthur's silent and bright gaze.
In the end, he just nodded stiffly: "Yes, Sir."
Arthur seemed relieved: "That's good. I thought you might have had some unnecessary conflict with Miss Fiona Ivan from the Nightingale Mansion."
Lewis was obviously stunned; he stared blankly at Arthur, as if unable to immediately grasp the underlying meaning of the words.
"Miss Iv... Ivan?" Lewis's voice weakened a little: "Sir, do you... do you know that beautiful woman inside out?"
"Indeed, I do." Arthur removed his gloves, casually brushing off the dust: "Miss Ivan has a broad social circle, and I count myself among her friends, though I am an insignificant one."
