"How about something less argumentative? The beds here are quite sturdy."
Mr. Wheatstone, upon hearing this, suddenly realized that this was not a good place for an argument.
If Arthur got upset and stormed off, he might end up getting taken away alone by Lady Rose later.
At this thought, Wheatstone's face turned beet red, and beads of sweat began to pour down his forehead like a dam breaking.
"Let's go, let's get out of here, Arthur."
Compared to the flustered Wheatstone, Arthur was much more composed. He removed his hat and politely greeted them: "Lovely evening, ladies."
"Oh, we have a gentleman here indeed."
"Sir, would you like us to offer you a warm cocktail?"
Arthur smiled, raising his silver cane slightly: "Thank you for your kind offer, but perhaps another day. Tonight, I'll have to pass."
With that, he walked ahead leisurely, as if taking a stroll in a street corner park.
