The carriage bumped once more, as if destiny was traversing a mud-filled pothole, forced to stumble.
Arthur didn't look at Eld; he just stared into the air in front of him and said with a hint of irony, "The old 'Oliver Twist'—this beginning, this lineage, this story... to put it nicely, it's called a classic; to put it harshly, it's trite. Eld, are you trying to tell me that I was the original prototype for Oliver Twist?"
Eld thought Arthur was speaking to him and hurriedly swore to the heavens, "Arthur, I promise, this time I haven't exaggerated at all. You may not believe what I'm saying, but every word I've said is basically Flora's original words."
Eld was clearly being self-indulgent since from beginning to end, none of Arthur's words were directed at him.
Arthur looked at the scenery outside the window without speaking further.
Eld thought Arthur was angry with him, so he wisely shut his mouth and stopped rambling.
