In Greenwich District, in the café opposite the police station, a light rain was falling outside the window, and the temperature difference between the inside and outside of the café covered the window glass with a faint layer of fog.

Arthur stirred the teacup in front of him, and the sugar cube gradually melted in the pale red tea.

In front of him, the belated guest was taking off his hat and coat, revealing a pale red suspender vest hidden under the coat and a tired expression.

Arthur smiled and asked, "Mr. Disraeli, looking at your rain, I'm afraid your speech in Hyde Park today won't go well, right?" ”

When Disraeli heard this, he couldn't help but feel a little angry, this proud young man hated nothing more than being looked down upon by others.

"Mr. Hastings, if you have invited me here to-day just to taunt me, then you don't have to. But if you insist on doing so, I don't mind making another enemy for yourself. You may not know that I don't have many friends, but I have many enemies. ”

Arthur shrugged, and he smiled and said, "No, no, no, you misunderstood me. Far from being here to ridicule you, I'm trying to talk to you about friendship today. After all, when I moved that day, you did a lot for me. Even for the sake of that matter, it is always necessary to have a meal. ”

Disraeli's face was full of disbelief, and he asked rhetorically, "In that case, why don't you invite me to your house?" Didn't you say you had a French cook at home? I'd love to try his hand. ”

Arthur leaned back in the chair with his forehead covered: "Unlucky, I didn't mean to invite you home." It's because the French cook in my family went to the theater with a valet from Nottingham, and I forgot to bring my key, so I can't even go home now.

To make matters worse, I didn't have much money in my pocket when I went out, so I didn't dare to go to a fancy restaurant, so I had to deign you to come here. Because I was familiar with the owner here, he believed in my good reputation and allowed me to take some credit from him. ”

After that, Arthur opened his coat pocket quite frankly, and Disraeli looked up to see that Arthur really didn't lie to him, he only had three shillings on his body, and if he deducted the fare to return home, there was really nothing left.

But Disraeli was still skeptical of Arthur's words: "Even if the cook and the manservant go to the play, can't that young governess open the door for you?" By the way, I almost forgot to ask you, you have hired a tutor, what about your children and wife? ”

Arthur took a sip of tea: "The man I hired is not a governess I have hired, he is a teacher I have hired for all mankind, although this teacher still pays me three shillings a week. Besides, how did you find out I had a family? ”

Disraeli pulled back at the seat across from Arthur, and he glanced at the oddly talkative Superintendent of Scotland Yard.

"Wouldn't you just say that the man with signs of premature baldness is your tenant? As for why I think you have a family, of course, it is considered in combination with your financial situation. Although the social climate in Britain in recent years has been one of marrying later and having children later, in general, British men don't mind marrying earlier if they are financially and career-ready.

It seems to me that you became a superintendent of Scotland Yard at such a young age, and you are obviously proud of your career and income. Even if you're planning to get yourself in some trouble and think about getting married or something, it's not surprising. ”

When Arthur heard this, he couldn't help but smile: "It seems that I am right, you do have a lot of dissatisfaction with this society, I felt this when I read your masterpiece Vivian Gray. This explains why you want to come out and run for parliament. ”

When Disraeli heard this, the black tea he had just drunk in his mouth almost choked him.

He coughed incessantly, wiping his mouth with a handkerchief from his pocket, and glancing at Arthur from time to time.

After all, as long as you are familiar with the British literary circle, you basically know that this anonymous satire "Vivian Gray" is his black history, and for this book, his partner, friend and satirical object, Mr. Murray, almost got into a lawsuit with him directly.

Because Mr. Murray is so influential in the publishing industry that he is even called the 'No. 2 person in British publishing', when his authorship was revealed, the literary review magazines Blackwood and Literary Fan mercilessly criticized him as a clown who made funny moves to attract attention and attract attention, and ridiculed him as a nobody who everyone hated.

Arrogant, ignorant, hypocritical, liar, scoundrel, Disraeli himself could not count how many labels he had been labeled by the publishing gang.

The investment business resulted in a huge loss of 7,000 pounds, but the first foray into the literary world suffered such a heavy blow that Disraeli was extremely decadent during that time, and even suffered from serious mental illness.

He still remembers the frightened ticking sound in his ears every time he flare-up, and the sleepless night left him to write a diary to relieve his emotions.

- The first time I had been so badly wounded, my heart was so weak, it was so ridiculous, I wanted to die immediately. My ears were filled with the ticking of clocks, like bells that chirped in a storm...... I can barely think. I wandered around the room, and its sound grew louder and louder, deafening, like a roaring flood.

Arthur stared at this early human 'victim of online violence', only to see the beads of sweat on his forehead getting denser and thicker, even his lips gradually whitened, and the hand holding the handkerchief was trembling slightly.

Arthur changed his tone and said, "Tell you the truth, Mr. Disraeli. Before I met you, I thought you were really as hateful as those literary criticism magazines portrayed. But in fact, I feel that you are a pretty good person. At least you're willing to move things for me for free. You know, it's a rare thing to help someone else without asking for anything in return. ”

Disraeli was going to accuse Arthur of cheating him into moving things, but when he heard this, the grumbling that came to his lips somehow was swallowed by him.

Disraeli nodded, "That's right, Mr. Hastings, what kind of person I am, you will understand it when you contact it." The writers of "Blackwood" and "Literature Fans" were a bunch of people who licked Maury's ass. They don't even know what good Maury has done to me!

I invested a lot of money in a newspaper he founded, but in less than half a year, the newspaper went out of business. Can you imagine? The number two man in the British publishing industry closed the newspaper as if he did not have the resources and the ability to do so.

But when I started attacking him, his friends in the publishing industry all popped up, and he had the money and the heart to figure out how to buy Blackwood and "Literature Junkie", but he couldn't run the newspaper well. Did I say in Vivian Gray that he was wrong about those things?

He wanted to ruin me so that his little bit of black history would sink into the sea, but he dreamed of it! I'm going to have to be elected to Congress, and I'm going to get rid of that idiot! I also want to give him a taste of the grievances and anxieties I have suffered! ”

As soon as Disraeli said this, he immediately realized that he had slipped out.

He hurriedly explained, "Don't get me wrong, Mr. Hastings, I don't exactly mean that. ”

Arthur shrugged, he put down his teacup and said, "It doesn't matter if you mean it that way, the police at Scotland Yard don't have the right to vote anyway." Don't say you're just scolding Mr. Murray, even if you're scolding me, I can't do anything with you. ”

Disraeli was stunned at first, and then his disappointment overflowed: "It turns out that ...... Don't you have the right to vote? ”

Arthur pursed his lips and smiled, "Am I wasting your time?" ”

Disraeli let out a sigh of relief, loosening his neckline to make himself comfortable: "How can you waste my time?" It's better that you don't have voting rights so I can speak my mind! To be honest, my mouth is numb when I say those things all day in Hyde Park. It's good to chat with you and change your mood, you don't have to worry that I will scold you, and I am not afraid that you will not vote for me, everyone is equal and fair. ”

Arthur looked at him and smiled, "It seems that although you want to be a councilor, you are actually a little unaccustomed to playing this game of thrones." ”

Disraeli picked up an oyster and replied as he pried its shell with the knife at the table.

"Who would get used to that? During this time, I have understood that if you want to be a councillor, you can't have your own opinions, you can say whatever people like to hear, and only then will you attract a few idle listeners.

When you treat workers, you tell them you're going to work shorter hours.

When you treat the peasants, you tell them that you want to lower the rent.

When dealing with factory owners, we should start talking about import and export tariffs.

As for the aristocracy, that is that I will not budge on the question of amending the Corn Laws.

As for the clergy, you are right to talk about the old moral spirit and principles.

Most of the time, though, I'm talking mainly about the latter ones, because the workers and peasants don't go to Hyde Park very much, and they don't have the right to vote.

To be honest, sometimes I do this and my conscience is a little upset. But it can't be helped, you should remember what I said to you that day, I stood there without partisan support, independently.

The Tories and Whigs are duplicitous enough, so I have to be more 'flexible' than they are in order to be elected. ”

Arthur couldn't help but nod his head when he heard this: "If a person's intention is to become something other than himself, such as being a councillor, a well-run grocer, a famous lawyer, a judge, or something equally boring, he can always get his wish." But as punishment, those who want these masks must first put them on. Mr. Disraeli, you accepted this early on, so I'm sure you should succeed. ”

Disraeli took a sip of the oyster soup.

Suck~

He sighed, "Really? Then I'm really going to borrow your good words. ”

(End of chapter)