As Vanessa spoke, she pushed the glasses up the bridge of her nose, her gaze sweeping imperceptibly between Charlotte and Russell.
Her tone was gentle, yet somehow suggestive of something more.
Russell caught on at once.
"Then I'll leave you two to talk," he said tactfully. "I'll wait for you at the entrance—and check when the carriage is coming while I'm at it."
"Mm." Charlotte nodded, offering no objection.
Russell turned and left, his figure soon disappearing around the corner of the corridor.
Now only Charlotte and Vanessa remained in the office.
Vanessa returned to her own seat, refilling Charlotte's already-empty teacup with warm black tea before pouring a cup for herself as well.
"Please, have a seat, Miss Holmes."
Charlotte sat down once more across from Vanessa, her grayish-blue eyes fixed on the woman with a hint of scrutiny.
"Madam Vanessa, what is it you wanted to say to me?"
Vanessa didn't answer immediately. She lifted her teacup and took a light sip, as though organizing her words.
"Let me say this in advance—it's only a conjecture. I have no intention of implying anything, nor of sowing discord," she finally said after a while, slowly, first laying down a protective layer for herself.
At these words, Charlotte couldn't help but knit her brows.
"Go ahead. I'll form my own judgment."
"Mm." Vanessa gave a slight nod, then drew a deep breath.
"I simply feel that Mr. Charles's stress reaction… perhaps wasn't solely because Pilsen was mentioned."
"Not because of Pilsen?" Charlotte arched an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"I was just recalling something a moment ago," Vanessa set down her teacup, her gaze calmly resting on Charlotte.
"This may only be a coincidence, but when Charles lost control of his emotions, his line of sight was focused on Mr. Watson."
"Because Russell was speaking with him at the time—isn't that perfectly natural?" Charlotte said subconsciously.
"Yes, that's true. It is indeed perfectly natural," Vanessa nodded.
"That's precisely why I said this is only a supposition, with no intention of implying anything. Because I can't quite remember the exact circumstances of Charles's breakdown during your previous visit, either."
"So… what exactly are you trying to say?" Charlotte asked.
"What I mean is," Vanessa weighed her words, lowering her voice a little further, "we could conduct a simple controlled experiment."
"A controlled experiment?" Charlotte's brows furrowed deeper.
"Yes," Vanessa nodded, leaning her body slightly forward.
"You've seen it for yourself—Mr. Charles's condition is highly unusual.
His mental state is like a taut string; the slightest, most subtle stimulus could cause him to collapse entirely.
Therefore, under these circumstances, we must handle the next meeting with the utmost caution.
In order to pinpoint the true source of his agitation more precisely, I believe it is necessary to eliminate all potential variables."
Charlotte said nothing, merely listening quietly, her expression calm, giving no indication of what she was thinking at that moment.
"Mr. Watson is truly exceptional," Vanessa's tone suddenly shifted, carrying a note of heartfelt admiration.
"Frankly, though he's still a touch inexperienced, his talent is the highest of any psychologist I have ever seen.
He can establish trust with a patient very quickly, which means he possesses a natural sort of approachability—and it also means that his inner self is, in fact, far more attentive and careful than the surface he presents would suggest.
He's perceptive; he knows how to guide, how to listen, and how to use the most fitting approach to make a person with a tightly sealed heart willing to open just a small crack for him.
That is a gift, one that has nothing to do with professional knowledge."
"I know that," Charlotte replied flatly. "He's just glib, that's all."
"But perhaps it is precisely because of this trait that Mr. Watson might also, inadvertently, touch upon certain fragile parts of a patient's heart," Vanessa explained.
Charlotte said nothing, merely listening quietly, her slender fingers unconsciously tracing the cool wall of the cup, sending ring after ring of tiny ripples across the black tea within.
"So," Vanessa's gaze settled upon Charlotte's face, "I have a proposal, Miss Holmes."
"What is it?"
"Next time, if possible," Vanessa lowered her voice, "I hope you might come alone."
At these words, the hand holding Charlotte's teacup paused slightly.
"Come by myself?"
"Yes, you alone," Vanessa nodded.
"When the time comes, I'll contact you directly. I hope you won't inform Mr. Watson of this matter, and will come on your own."
Charlotte lifted her eyes, looking toward Vanessa. Those grayish-blue eyes, always tinged with detachment and coldness, held at this moment an unreadable, emotionless calm.
"What you mean is," she finally said slowly, after a while, her voice betraying neither pleasure nor anger.
"You suspect that Russell is the true cause of Charles's loss of control?"
"I didn't say that," Vanessa shook her head, her tone still gentle.
"I merely suggest that a simple controlled experiment could eliminate one potential variable.
For Mr. Watson, for you, for us, and for Charles—it does no harm to anyone, does it?"
As she spoke, she rose to her feet and walked to the window, turning her back to Charlotte, her gaze cast out toward the lawn outside, warm and glowing in the sunlight.
"Please don't misunderstand me. I greatly admire Mr. Watson—I even feel that, if he were willing, he could achieve tremendous accomplishments in the field of psychological treatment.
He can open a patient's heart faster than anyone, but he might also inadvertently brush against those wounds hidden in the deepest places—wounds the patients themselves are unwilling to face.
This has nothing to do with his own intentions. Sometimes, an excessively high talent is, in itself, a double-edged sword.
That is something I imagine you understand all too well, Miss Holmes."
Charlotte remained silent, saying nothing.
She sat quietly in her chair, seemingly mulling over Vanessa's proposal.
It was indeed a proposal for which no grounds for refutation could be found.
No matter the outcome, it would have no effect on anyone.
Eliminate the variable, run the comparison.
This was a method of deduction she herself often employed.
"Very well."
At last, she lifted her head, those eyes restored to their habitual clarity and composure.
It was as though the momentary struggle and hesitation from before had never existed at all.
"Understood."
Hearing this answer, Vanessa slowly turned around, a faint approving smile appearing on her face.
"You're more decisive than I imagined, Miss Holmes."
"I only want to resolve this case as quickly as possible," Charlotte said flatly. She set down the teacup in her hand and stood up.
"So then, the time for our next visit?"
"I'll decide based on Charles's recovery," Vanessa answered.
"Remember," she reminded her once more, "you absolutely must come alone."
"Understood."
Charlotte nodded, and without another word, turned and left the office.
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