Becky’s loose tongue often makes her a laughingstock among the other maids in the reading club.
Although she doesn’t realize it, those maids have long begun to harbor distrust towards Becky privately.
According to them, it’s like: "She thinks she can deal with diplomats? A country girl doesn’t understand the industry, at most she’s nothing more than a maid in a middle-class family, there’s no way she could touch such a high circle."
Her boasting attitude frequently makes them feel she is just a country girl who just ca to town, wanting to embellish her life with fantasies about the upper class.
Every housekeeper able to serve a noble family imdiately reveals their extraordinary temperant and superior abilities.
Not to ntion, Becky brags about her relationship with an extrely etiquette-oriented diplomat family.
Did the diplomat hire such an ignorant young girl with the intention of demonstrating his amateur attitude towards diplomatic work?
Overall, the reading club maids are insightful.
After all, in the eyes of his colleagues at 15 Downing Street, in the eyes of Foreign Secretary Viscount Palston, Becky’s employer is indeed quite amateurish in diplomacy.
However, this does not hinder him from being a professional cop.
"I... I..." Lizzy was too anxious to speak, her steps beginning to falter, as if everything was starting to fall apart.
How could she have thought that everything Becky said was true.
Sir Arthur Hastings, forr British Cultural Counsellor in Russia, served as the Kingdom of Hanover National Special Representative and Academic Director at the University of Gottingen, 1833 Constitution Reform Advisor, and most importantly, Assistant Police Director of the Greater London Police Departnt, Chief of Police Intelligence Departnt, Deputy Prosecutor of London Regional Prosecutor’s Office and Police Representative.
Becky doesn’t know many words, but this doesn’t prevent her from morizing the titles on Arthur’s business cards fluently.
Lizzy looked towards Old Fagin in panic, but the old "Raven" who had a deep understanding was unexpectedly calm this ti.
It wasn’t his first collaboration with Arthur, and he understood well the work style of this "fallen star" in the police world. The na Arthur Hastings still carries so credibility in London’s underground society.
"Please sit." Arthur instructed, "Becky, prepare so refreshnts for the guests."
Old Fagin solemnly observed the decorations inside the room. Having lived in St Giles "mansions" for a long ti, the old man admired enviously, "It’s quite impressive, you must have spent a lot on this house, right?"
Arthur did not hide the true cost of this "social welfare house" provided by the Rothschild family: "Not particularly expensive, when I bought it, it didn’t even cost four hundred pounds."
"Four hundred pounds?" Fagin widened his eyes, "Then... you’ve really gotten a bargain, I thought such a house would cost at least a thousand pounds..."
Arthur chuckled softly, "I’m always lucky, cheap things always end up in my hands. Like this house, and also this writing box..."
Arthur’s eyes seed to be fixed on the ivory writing box on the table, but Lizzy always felt he was sohow looking at her.
In an instant, she had the urge to grab the writing box and walk away.
As a servant frequently dealing with the royal family, how could Lizzy not know how obsessively the upper-class gentlen and ladies study the noble heraldry. Not to ntion the renowned royal heraldry, even the long-extinct noble family crests are not beyond their scrutiny.
But to Lizzy’s surprise, the lord with the sharp eagle eyes did not seem to notice the hidden secrets on this writing box of unknown origin.
"Miss Lizzy, is it?"
"Yes, Sir." Lizzy sat nervously, clutching her skirt.
Arthur instinctively wanted to light a cigar but suddenly realized that a lady was present, his movent paused slightly, then he put the cigar back: "I heard from Fagin about your brother, I’m sorry to hear about his unfortunate accident, is he doing alright now?"
No longer able to hold back tears at the thought of her brother, Lizzy said: "My brother... he... he works at a shipyard... he’s a decent young man. That day, he tried to remove wood stuck in the machine, but the machine speed was too fast, he didn’t have ti to react. His fingers were almost completely crushed, the doctor said it was fortunate they sent him in ti, otherwise amputation might not have been easy."
As a senior officer governing the West Indies Pier located in Tower Hamlets, Arthur knew well what the shipyards in his district were like.
As for whether Lizzy’s words were true, Arthur could naturally judge.
The shipyards in the East District are among London’s largest industrial employers, employing thousands of coopers, ropemakers, and carpenters with steady jobs. But skilled workers only account for one-third of the dock’s workforce, the remaining two-thirds are casual workers employed on a day-to-day basis, engaging in non-skilled tasks with just brute force.
Every morning at 7:30, you can see thousands of ragged workers gathering at the West Indies Pier, stretching their necks standing for several hours, all for the hundreds of temporary jobs offered by the shipyard.
To compete for the most visible spots, they often jostle each other, and fights and brawls frequently occur.
User Comments
0 comments from readers