For a respectable gentleman, it might just be a dinner party, a few bottles of good wine, or even just the price of a horse's leg.
But for Lewis, he might not even be able to earn that much in a month.
He involuntarily gulped, as if finally spitting out a stone stuck in his throat: "I know this amount... looks bad."
He reluctantly explained, unable to hide the embarrassment in his tone: "I originally thought... just have a few drinks, gather some material, it wouldn't..."
Before he finished speaking, he stopped himself, too ashamed to continue.
The drawing room once again fell into an awkward silence.
Lewis lowered his head, his gaze resting near his shoe tips on the worn, whitened carpet, as if already prepared for rejection. He even silently calculated in his mind everything that might happen next.
Being politely shown out, or worse, handed back to the impatient Miss Ivan.
Just then, a very soft yet exceptionally clear sound broke the silence.
Snap.
