At dusk and sunset, the stars have just appeared in the light blue sky that has not yet darkened.

Arthur and Elder stood at the door of the Royal Theatre in Drewry Lane, West End, surrounded by high-class gentlemen and ladies dressed up.

The road was clogged with horse-drawn carriages, and Arthur and Elder were squeezed between the loose skirts of the pretty ladies, unable to move, and the pungent smell of perfume was in the air.

They moved back to back a little outward, two steps back, one step back, and occasionally turned their heads to look around, lest they be pushed back by the frenzied crowd, and it looked as if they were dancing flamenco.

Their strange behavior, combined with the ordinary clothes they wear, would occasionally attract the eyes of the servants around them.

Arthur scolded, "Elder what's going on today?" Was it so congested here in the past? ”

Elder was also anxious, and he was trampled by the ladies' high heels.

"Fuck! I know it's always hard to get tickets for the Theatre Royal, but it's not like this, is it? There must be some big artist coming to perform today, and when you look at this group of people, it's like they're going crazy! ”

Arthur sighed: "We shouldn't come to see any plays, even if we do, don't go this way." I knew it would be like this, and I should have gone home after eating with you guys at the docks. ”

Elder retorted, "I didn't arrange that. Alas! It's kind of blown today. The Royal Theatre is blocked like this, and those who can't buy tickets will definitely not be willing to go back like this, and most of them will go to other theaters in the West End. Let's go for nothing today. ”

As soon as Elder finished speaking, Arthur raised his hand and shouted at the sign at the entrance of the Royal Theatre.

"Damn! Elder! I know why it's so congested today! Fuck, it's that violinist Niccolò Paganini from the Apennines who is performing at the Royal Theater today! ”

"What do I call him! Even if he is the Russian Tsar Nikolai Pavlovich, he must let Lao Tzu out today! ”

In the past, Agareth would always jump out and taunt.

But today he stepped on Arthur's head with great interest and looked out into the halls of the Royal Theatre.

"Hey! Arthur! Look at those hands that can play the violin, how about you go and get it for me?" ”

Arthur was so impulsive that he yelled, "I'll just get you two pork knuckles!" ”

Elder was so hard of hearing from the noise that he yelled and asked, "Arthur, what did you say?" ”

Agareth looked at them with disgust: "You two guys who don't know how to appreciate music, this is art." Look at your vulgar looks, you're almost catching up with Baal.

Arthur, you were paid your salary two days ago, isn't the Inspector's weekly salary fifteen pounds and fifteen shillings? Add in the money you paid for the refund ticket, you should be able to afford a ticket to the Royal Theatre, right? Go get me one. ”

Arthur said angrily: "How dare you think about it! The Theatre Royal usually sells for three to five pounds, and tonight is a solo by a master like Paganini, and I guess I saved half a year to see it. ”

When Agareth heard this, he couldn't help but shake his head regretfully: "It's a pity, if you miss this time, you don't know when you will wait for the next time." ”

Arthur and Elder struggled for a long time to finally squeeze out of the crowd.

They stood in the clearing, bent over their knees, gasping for breath.

Elder rejoiced, "I almost thought I was going to be trampled to death by them." ”

Arthur waited until his breath was even, then he raised his head and pinched his waist and said, "Forget it, let's stop here today, I'm going home." ”

Elder was also distracted, and he waved goodbye: "Go slowly, don't send it." Wait for next time, I'll invite you to the play next time. ”

After waving goodbye, Arthur walked down the street east.

I have to say that tonight because of Paganini's performance, other theaters in the neighborhood are doing good business.

In order to maintain order at the scene, even Scotland Yard has sent a lot of police to stand guard nearby, and police officers wearing civilized guards can be seen everywhere on the road.

In addition, there are quite a few teams of local sheriffs paid for by the wealthy in the West District to patrol the area.

The houses are clean and imposing, the nights are brightly lit, the roads are wide and tidy, the theatres are bustling with people, and everything seems to be in order.

It's rare to see dirty children, pickpockets with sparkling eyes, and even rats that are not bound by humans rarely visit.

Arthur looked at everything in front of him, and couldn't help but sigh with his pipe in his mouth, "If only Greenwich was the same here." ”

He walked the streets of the West End with great joy, feeling that everything in the future was full of hope.

But as he was about to cross Oxford Street, he suddenly stopped.

In front of him was the only dark island in the shiny West End of London.

The rest of the West End is as bright as day, and only the darkness in front of you will tell you that night has fallen.

It was St Giles's Parish, and it was like a mold spot on an apple that had penetrated into the marrow of London's West End, reminding the rich people who lived there that there was such a thing as poverty.

The narrow, muddy streets stench of feces, and the already small space is crowded with a labyrinth of simple but tall houses.

It was once a luxurious home for those who had wealth, and its former glory can be seen in the reliefs and wall decorations on the facades of many houses.

But now, it's just a home for the homeless, the street-dwelling, the wicked and the unfortunate.

The antique, plastered and muddy carvings of the stone create a subtle eerie feel to their surroundings, with some of the walls half-collapsed but filled with scrambled stones and old newspapers.

The gable, which appears to have originated in the late Middle Ages, is so broken that it is illegible, its surface wet and stained by London's harsh weather and toxic industrial exhaust fumes.

Through the open door, you can faintly see the dimly lit stairwell, the stucco walls are covered with black palm prints, the huge handrails and carved railings are more than half missing, and the wind squeaks when it blows.

Through the light of the flickering oil lamp hanging in the stairwell, you can see a dirty drunk on the ground wearing a broken felt hat, blood on his head, and sleeping with a wine bottle, and you can see that he must have just fallen down the stairs.

Arthur looked at everything in front of him, and it reminded him of the East End where he worked.

Under the dim and cloudy night sky of St. Giles's parish, Arthur's face could not be seen at all, except for a reddish pipe flickering in the inky darkness.

The red dot hovered for a long time, and as a thick puff of smoke emanated, he finally decided to leave.

But before he could take a step, he heard the sound of insults and beatings in his ears.

"Damn it! Give me your wallet! ”