The pianist stood stunned, unable to tell if it was a hallucination.

What does he want to do? What should he do?

Some sluggish brains thought about it for a long time and didn't come up with anything. He just stretched out his hand in a daze, trying to let the tree swallow perch on his finger for a moment.

Cold fingers landed lightly on his wrist, a slight dull ache coming from the place of contact.

He was almost taken aback, and subconsciously used some force to pull his hand back.

In fact, he didn't need to exert such a great force, and the hands that he had withdrawn vigorously struck his abdomen, and the sound of beating a leather drum seemed to be transmitted down his bones to his ears, which made his brain suddenly clear a little, because he was not hindered at all.

The finger just rested lightly on it, lifted it as he dodged, and carefully stroked his face, a slight tremor running down the skin against his cheek, the light brown eyes in front of him glistening with water.

He could almost hear Sarah calling her name in those light brown eyes, her voice carrying boundless sorrow, as if she came from the kingdom of the Mother Goddess, who was radiating fragrant flowers and rich winds.

For a moment he suddenly realized that Sarah was crying for himself, and he felt that he was going crazy with joy, and he wanted to scream, and he wanted to run to the middle of the road and sing like a madman until his vocal cords were bleeding and his voice was dumb.

But then an empty sense of loss came over her, for there was no sound he had expected, and that sound had vanished as she left the Segunes Theatre.

Don't be stupid, thought the pianist, those light brown eyes should have dazzled like agate in the light of the crystal lamps of the theater, and all who thought of her longing were enchanted as if they were in a dream, not to accompany him in the endless darkness and wet - not so, she should not have been in this filthy environment.

So he smiled with wandering eyes, carefully leaned into the ear of the person in front of him, and whispered:

"I've scraped together enough money for that show this weekend, let's go see what that mentor of yours wants to do, shall we?"

Her watery light brown eyes showed only a hint of disapproval, and she shook her head slowly, carefully avoiding his swollen wrist and grabbing his arm.

Her eyes fell on the silent church in the darkness not far away.

......

"Do you think this assassination was directed and acted by this Lord Bartlet?" Agnes asked, somewhat surprised, "Do you know what it means to come to this conclusion?" ”

"Actually, it's not a surprise, although it seems that this gentleman is not in a good situation, but ......," Lunn said, pressing the black top hat on his head and hooking the corners of his mouth, "There is definitely a lot of security around him. ”

"Even before this assassination took place, it was out of the ordinary," he paused before he said, "definitely beyond the capabilities of the Assassins that the 'Apprentice' bar could dispatch." ”

"Why didn't he detect some signs before the assassination took place?" Agnes asked.

Lunn shook his head slowly, "Because there are some completely avoidable holes in his security arrangements. ”

He thought for a moment and added, "The kind of loophole that seems to be unintentional, but according to what I know about it, would never have appeared under normal arrangement." ”

"Sounds like you know a lot about the security forces." Agnes said casually, "You think these loopholes were deliberately set aside?" ”

"Unless this Lord, Mr. ...... It's not as wise as the outside world says. Lunn thought for a moment and added.

Agnes felt that Lunn seemed to be trying to say unless the Lord was stupid.

"Maybe he's trying to catch the Assassin?" Agnes stretched and leaned back on the couch cushion and asked casually, "Ask who is behind it?" ”

"Yes, it is possible, but I don't think anyone knows his situation better than the assassin," Lenn said, "and it seems strange to me that rumor." ”

"That rumor that Conrad Bruno has replaced Lord Bartlett and gained the support of those families." He looked up at Agnes.

"No matter how powerful Conrad Bruno is, and how much those families trust this person, Lord Bartlet is the current consul of Ellesmere, and there is still a short period of time before he leaves office, no matter how dissatisfied those families are with Lord Bartlet, they will not rashly give up Lord Bartlet." He whispered.

"Whether it is a concession in terms of interest or coercion," said Lunn, "they will try to win over the gentleman who once relied on them to become consul, but not by direct assassination." ”

"Unless their ideas are completely contrary." Agnes said.

"Yes, unless their ideas are completely contrary." Lunn repeated.

She looked at her "waiter" with a serious face, and suddenly felt that her waiter seemed to be ...... Actually, it's quite an idea.

"Looks like you've come to a conclusion," Agnes said with a sudden smile of malice, "Tell me what your final conclusion is......

"Either Lord Bartlet still has good relations with those families, but he wants to gain trust with someone, who he wants to convince them that he has broken with them," said Lunn, "or he is really in a desperate situation, as the rumors say, and indeed completely contrary to the ideas of those families, who want to cut down the roots, and he is not very clever. ”

"There's more...... Agnes added, "but that means the Lord may have some other ambitions......"

"Maybe the Assassins are really from the families, and they see Lord Bartlet as a partner they can trust," Agnes said, her eyes looking at the newspaper on the table, "but Lord Bartlet has unilaterally turned his back on them, and he wants to choose the more hopeful side." ”

Her eyes saw the news in the newspaper clearly.

“...... The Speaker expressed concern about the assassination of the Segunes Theatre in Ellesmere Harbor...... 'We will send some younger, more capable people to Ellesmere Harbor to investigate this case'. ”

"After all, it's a vicious incident." Agnes sighed and said, "Forget it, it has nothing to do with me. ”

"After the opera tomorrow night, we'll leave." Agnes looked up and said.

"Follow your wishes."

Lunn's face barely changed, except for a very respectful nod.