Chapter 23: Chapter 23 – The confession

Being relieved of much of his stress, Oscar was able to return to work normally. People kept going back and forth through the rows of stalls that had formed and, just as the huge Seymour garden was filling up during the morning, starting at five in the afternoon the property gradually emptied. Street shows and stalls were still open, but traffic was no longer the same.

Oscar was serving tea with pastries, after humbly enduring the consequent scolding from the manager, being barely aware of what was happening in his surroundings.

He hadn't seen Patrick Seymour all day – not counting, of course, when he led him to the false fortune-teller - since the guy had preferred to have lunch in his dining room, with his select social circle, rather than in a tent full of characters whose provenance could not be assured, in most cases. And is that Patrick, except with women, was quite selective when choosing company. He, too, had no trace of going to have tea or, in general, to try any food that was served outside. Drinks were another story but, as far as Oscar was able to find out, the protagonist had spent the evening walking his friends around half of the property.

There was a danger that Theresa would meet him, but not that she would be kidnapped. Oscar had read the novel, down to the last point, and although the character descriptions of the characters became fuzzy in some paragraphs, it was obvious to any reader the protagonist and the villain were destined to collide. They already knew and hated each other before, apparently.

Patrick didn´t like Albert's cold and haughty ways, and Albert didn´t like the frivolity the other always displayed. Therefore, if Patrick found out Theresa was with the Northrops, two things could happen: First, Patrick would argue with Albert about letting her go. The second, and much more likely considering they weren´t alone in that property, Patrick would retract in his courtship attempts and limit himself to accepting the affection the girls who since that morning had been hanging from his arms, forgetting finally about Theresa.

“Excuse me”

Oscar stopped when he saw that someone was addressing him with the intention of saying something. It was past five in the afternoon and the musicians had stopped for a moment to take a break. Now the sound of the conversations could not be muffled by anything or anyone.

"You are Oscar Gladwin, am I wrong?"

“Do we know each other?”

No, they didn´t. Not directly, at least. This woman and he had not been introduced, but looking at her face once more, Oscar could recognize it. It had not been three hours since the two of them had met.

"No, I guess we don't know each other," the girl murmured, and then with a wide smile she introduced herself. “My name is Dianne Warren, and I´m one of Madeleine's childhood friends. It might be wrong for me to say it, but I'm her best friend. She tells me everything, since we were little. Well, although we live in different towns, for years we went to the same school. And, fortunately, we´ve been able to preserve our friendship all these years, despite not being able to see each other so often.”

Oh well, what do you want me to give you, a prize? Oscar thought, but preferred to use other words to point out, a little less abruptly, that he didn't give a damn who Madeleine's relatives were.

"I'm glad you´re getting along with my former employer's daughter, but I don't see what that has to do with me." Pointing to the counter where they took orders from someone who wanted refreshments, he added. “If you want a drink, go over there to order it. If not, I'm afraid I'm busy.”

"No, no, wait!"

Dianne made a pretense of following him, so Oscar couldn't leave as intended. He was really looking forward to his day ending!

"Listen, I'm not stealing much time from you, I just wanted to make sure of something," Dianne began again. “Why have you been so awful to Maddie?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. Can't you see she was suffering? You should have some compassion for her and give her your support! Have you not been flesh and blood since you were little? You should continue to support her, not be indifferent to her aspirations.”

"She was crying at my table, in front of a lot of people who gave me bad looks," Oscar protested. “My boss might have thought I was mistreating customers had he seen the scene!”

"That's another reason you should have acted on it, and don't wait until the end to calm Maddie down. To be honest, I do not understand why you´re so cold. I always thought, from what she told me about you, that you were in love with her”

Oscar laughed at that. In truth, the protagonist's friends were just as annoying as she was.

"You must have misunderstood. Maybe because you've always been her friend and not mine, you've only been able to know one side of the story” he replied. “Be that as it may, I´m not interested in the reproaches of someone I don´t know. I won´t even make excuses, it would be to give it the importance that it doesn´t have. I was only hired to help with the preparations of the fair, nothing more. If you have any questions, suggestions or complaints that do have to do with the service we provide here, it´d be better to speak to the person in charge.”

"And that's it? Is that all you'll say?" Dianne said this in frustration, as if she was hearing the wrong words. “I believed you would help Maddie to the last consequence. Is this because you don't want to hand her over to someone like Mr. Seymour?”

"It's the opposite, actually. I wish she had hung out with Patrick Seymour sooner, they are one-of-a-kind!”

With that said, Oscar began to walk between the tables, back toward the counter. No one had called him, but he supposed that he would soon have to take care of carrying some tray to a table. Either way, he hadn´t advanced four steps when a question from Dianne managed to paralyze him:

"Have you also transmigrated?"

Hearing this, Oscar's expression changed. He wasn´t before one of Madeleine's foolish friends, but before a person who must have been aware of the evil that had dragged him to that damned novel. Someone who, with that little conversation, must have been testing him, checking to see if he was out of character or not.

"Who are you really?" Oscar asked, retracing his steps.

He wasn't concerned they were standing in the middle of the gardens, or that there were still enough customers around. Anyway, even if someone heard them, they wouldn't understand what they were talking about.

"Wait, don't be rude again. I´ve asked first. I know we´re inside a novel and I´ve been watching you; It´s fair because I know this story that I have decided to come to ask you, because how you have developed and of what Maddie herself has been telling me about you... How to say it without sounding bad? I didn't see you as the original Oscar, rather you seemed like an impostor.” As there was no reaction from him, the young woman continued. “It´s as if someone who doesn´t know the plot of the novel, or the character, had supplanted him.”

"But is it necessary to follow the original plot?"

"I guess so, right? How are we going to get home otherwise? Ah, but I don't want any hostilities between us now that I've just confirmed you also come from my world. We´re fellow adventurers now! And look, it's not your fault that you acted your way. You had not read `My impure obsession’, so it is natural you didn´t know, a mistake can be made by anyone.”

"But I´ve read it."

"Did you?" The fake Dianne's eyes lit up, as if she had just found gold in the middle of a sty, she almost seemed to have forgotten that this Oscar was acting against the script on purpose. “Then you must be a user of the web where the novel was uploaded.”

“That's how it is.”

"Can you tell me your username? If you have commented on a chapter, maybe I remember you. I usually go through the comment area a lot.”

The look it was taking, more than anything, was displeasing Oscar. He didn´t reject this Dianne because, as she had rightly said, they both came from the 21st century and in one way or another, there was certain information they could share with each other - at least to try to deduce what had happened to them to finish in that dismal work and, perhaps, how to get out of it. But he didn´t want to talk too much either. He still didn't know exactly who it was that was impersonating Dianne.

Placing a bet, Oscar risked saying:

"I don't think you´ll find my comments even if you search for them one by one."

When all the brawl broke out over his criticism on the blog, all his comments on the novel were eliminated... Although, and this had to be mentioned in his favor, none of them were offensive.

"I was one of those who had opinions in other places, off the platform," he continued. “My username was PoisonedTongue.”

As soon as she heard that last word, Dianne's face turned grim.

“You are the resentful one of the blog!”

"I knew this was going to get like this since I saw you defending Madeleine," Oscar sighed, not even bothering to explain why he was so uncompromising in his criticism. “Who are you?, another one of her fangirls?”

"I´m ladyheathcliff04"

"Damn, that asshole or an author!" He exclaimed, unable to contain himself, recognizing the username immediately.

"Now are you going to tell me you're not trying to be offensive, like you were when you criticized me? Karma certainly does wonders for scum like you!”

"Ah, my apologies, it was the thrill of meeting you in person," Oscar laughed, thinking this woman wouldn´tbe of much use if she continued to be guided by her feelings. Have you corrected the things I told you?

"Don't talk to me like you're my editor!"

“But you were the one who contacted me privately to ask for my criticism with the excuse that you needed something to base yourself on to make the correction. If it weren't for that, I wouldn't even have passed by the synopsis of your novel. You know? I don't enjoy reading these kinds of historical romances. Especially when since before chapter one the writer herself has already spoiled me the whole plot with her synopsis similar to a school summary.”

"You're lucky, resentful one," Dianne began slowly. “You´re lucky that we are in a period novel and out of respect for this work of mine (which took me years to finish, I don't know if you noticed) I´m not going to bother to raise my voice. Because if we were back in our century... You were going to win so many slaps that not even your mother would recognize you later, because of how your face would look.”

"Come on, come on, wasn't it that you had a talent for writing porn… romantic novels? Well, take advantage of it here too and see if they notice you in a newspaper or publisher. See if your characters are also capable of appreciating your art.”

"Well, you don't write either. What would you know? You must be nothing more than a loser jealous of someone else's success!”

"Yes, I do…" Realizing that since he was trapped in that world he hadn't been able to return to that hobby, he corrected himself. “I did wrote historical fiction with plots of horror and suspense. Anyway, genres not too popular online.”

"A jealous and resentful loser, now it's confirmed!" Seeing that Oscar had no intention of talking to her further, she was quick to say. “But nothing happens, we all have defects and I am willing to forgive you for it. Hey, don't go yet and take care of me! Let's behave like the responsible adults that we are.”

Is the same person who deleted all my comments, blocked me and went to rant with the captures to his entourage of fans going to talk to me about responsibility and adulthood, just for not agreeing with my corrections?. It sounded ridiculous. But, just the same, he decided to give it a try. Dianne was right about one thing, and is that in times of crisis like this one, any alliance opportunity should be seized.

"Let's make a truce or whatever you want," she continued, "because it´s clear we have different opinions about the novel and neither of us is going to give in. So let's put aside our past disputes and think of a way back together.”

"I doubt we can go back," After a long pause, he added. “But I´m not against inquiring about it.”

"See how it wasn´t so difficult to understand each other?"

Dianne smiled, as if the confrontation hadn't taken place. She really did seem willing to make amends and move on, even if she just went while they were trapped there.

They didn´t speak for more than a couple of minutes after making a non-aggression pact. At the time, Dianne commented she had transmigrated to her novel about five weeks ago. She didn´t elaborate on this, but the two agreed to contact each other the next day, when the matter of the fair had settled down, to discuss further the details they knew about this mysterious timeless phenomenon experienced.

Likewise, and before leaving, Dianne reaffirmed her theory that, in order for both of them to get out of the play, it might be wise to ensure the book followed its right course. That the protagonists ended up together and that, also, the rest of the secondary ones fulfilled their own destiny.

Oscar disagreed with this, out of sheer common sense. If he was guided by the original plot, he would end up dead. But, after that little brawl in broad daylight, he decided to take a non-participatory attitude in that debate. Devoting himself to listening to what she had to say, Dianne didn´t approve nor deny anything explicitly; she didn't want to think about it yet, much less settle on a path to take before she had weighed all the possibilities.

Fortunately, she did not insist that he act more like the real Oscar when he heard from her mouth that her beloved female lead had been left with Patrick. Apparently, the dramas of a mere secondary could wait. The main thing was that the protagonists got together.

By the time the two parties said goodbye, the tension in the air was still palpable. Customers who were closer and managed to hear a sentence or two of the conversation, even avoided looking at those two people as they passed, thinking they were criminals dressed in suits.

Anyway, Oscar remembered reading about Dianne Warren as a character and knew where she lived. Information the author herself had confirmed. So when he needed something, he knew how to reach her. That was the only thing that interested him. When he had time, he would be in charge of making her understand the slop she had written looked more like a fascicle of the heart than a healthy romance novel directed at teenagers.

Five thirty in the afternoon arrived and left without major impediments. Oscar was almost free by then, but despite this he didn´t want to tempt his luck by going in search of Madeleine, since spying on what she would do would be a huge mistake. He couldn't risk someone noticing his presence or, worse, Patrick seeing him near the temple and thinking the lonely girl there was waiting for someone else.

So instead of warming his head over the possibilities and drawbacks of something he was no longer concerned with, he just let the seconds roll. And, within fifteen minutes to six in the afternoon, he walked to the agreed place without having any clue at all of what the villain wanted to talk to him about.

He'd been thinking about it for a good part of his shift, but nothing came to mind. He didn't recall offending him —hadn't even noticed him angry when they spoke—. The only thing he thought he might want to talk about was paying for the books but, in the end, Theresa was the only one interested in that. And Theresa was with them. Wouldn't it be appropriate to talk about it with her?

Anyway, Oscar chose to believe that he was going to meet the whole little group of Northrop and Mullins, even if it were only to keep his peace of mind.

He didn´t expect that just five minutes before the agreed time, when he reached the small bridge where they had been appointed, he would only be able to see Albert Northrop from a distance. And what's more, he looked nervous, with his arms behind his back and pacing back and forth with his eyes fixed on his feet. The guy looked stiffer than the penguin the Seymours had for a butler.

If it weren't for the fact that Oscar was absolutely convinced the villain wasn´t angry, he would have thought that he was planning to skewer the first person who dared to cross the river.

But there was no doubt something was unsettling Albert, because he didn´t even see Oscar approach. In the same way that Oscar had been scared hours before, during lunchtime, the villain was now startled when he heard someone greeting him from behind.

At least, one of them thought at the time, he had gotten his revenge. Even if none of this was intentional.

"Have you finished your work?" Albert asked, perhaps more to break the ice than out of real interest.

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"No, I only ran away for a moment. Then I'll have to go back to help them take down the awning.”

Albert nodded, but said nothing more. A minute passed and then two. Oscar was already getting unnerved, he wondered if it would be too risky to yell at the individual who was destined to kill him to wake up a bit. Although, of course, that was a fleeting thought, caused by the desperation of being alone with him for no stated reason.

Just when Oscar was going to make a somewhat polite and somewhat brusque comment of the type: ‘Hurry, because I don't have all afternoon and these are capable of reducing my already miserable salary´, Albert proceeded to verify:

"I'm not sure how to begin, as I've never seen myself in this situation."

‘Can't you get to the point?’ But Oscar kept waiting, arming himself with patience, for the other to continue. It wasn´t a good idea to interrupt a potential murderer.

"But well," he continued, "this is a serious matter that deserves a proper answer, so I'll try not to be ambiguous. First of all, I´d like to say that I have nothing against that kind of inclination, it´s something that doesn´t bother me at all. I´m of the opinion that each one should have their private life with whoever they feel comfortable with and, uh... Obviously, if both parties agree, it´s not a matter of forcing anyone”

At this point, Oscar was still confused about where the other wanted to go. But all those questions of his vanished after Albert's following phrases:

"Now back to the subject of the letter. I have to say that I am flattered that you have thought of me to have a love relationship, but don't you think it's too soon? I know we've known each other for years, but it's only been a couple of months since we've sat to talk with each other” Failing to discern what the expression of discomfort on Oscar's part was, thinking he was taking bad the rejection, he quickly added. “What I mean is I think that for these things we should get to know each other better first. You don't need to take it to heart, you should know by now I don't dislike you. Maybe in the future, if things work out...”

Albert didn´t finish the sentence and Oscar was already paper white. What the hell was going on?, why was the villain rejecting him as if he were a damsel who had just confessed her love for him? No, even worse! What the hell was he up to by giving hope about a fruitful love life with him?

"May I see the letter?" After a while, Oscar managed to articulate this question.

Albert looked at him in confusion at first, but immediately took out an envelope from his jacket, which he handed to Oscar asking him to return it later, since he wanted to keep it.

The dose of shame Oscar had to endure could only get worse when he began to read to himself the only note that came inside the package:

“In advance, I´d like to apologize to you for daring to write this letter, since we have not had many opportunities to fraternize. I fear that, for this reason, you consider this letter doesn´t have much value and therefore decide to discard it.

“I will risk asking you, even though it sounds selfish, not to do it. Well, it has been difficult for me to gather the courage to put the right words in order to be able to express my feelings for you here.

“The point is, I've been watching you for a long time. Although we have already met on a handful of occasions and even had a chance to chat, I am afraid I have not been able to get my thoughts in order until recently. I still don't know very well how to explain this, but I am convinced that it is love. It sounds like a strong word, right? I thought so too, under the circumstances. That is why in these weeks I´ve tried not to draw your attention too much, to move away if possible... Of course I was not trying to forget your existence, that would be absurd considering we live so close and, at least as neighbors, we are destined to meet. Rather, I did it so that I could have time alone and clarify what I was feeling, on my own.”

“Right now, have no doubts about it, I would like to be able to get to know you better, if you don't have any problems. I would like to give this relationship a chance as well, but I have not yet had the courage to confess all this to you by speaking face to face. So for the moment I´ll only leave you this note, in the hope that you´ll read it and decide for yourself what should be done.”

“As I was saying, it is not my intention to make you feel uncomfortable or to force you to proceed with the courtship. If you decide to ignore these words, I will understand it as a negative response to my feelings and I won´t bother you anymore. If, on the contrary, you decide to give me a chance, know that I will be waiting for you at the fair.”

When Oscar returned the letter to Albert, he felt dizzy.

"It must be a mistake," he murmured, more to himself than to the other.

"How could it be? It's not signed, but you gave it to me yourself” Before Oscar could protest again, he added. “In addition, it has your handwriting”

That was true. This wasn´t a letter Madeleine had copied, imitating Oscar's handwriting. No. It was the same draft Oscar wrote when he was teaching the aforementioned what she had to put in her love letter to Patrick. So of course, as it was a draft, when it was written the greeting was saved - hence the name of the male protagonist or that of anyone else didn´t appear, causing one to reach the wrong conclusions about who the real person should be addressed-. Not to mention the note was anonymous.

Apparently, Madeleine had been trying to copy the letter, but she didn´t like the result and, in the end, she opted to use the one that Oscar had made.

To this must be added that Albert was an observant type: during lunch he had taken a brief look at the notebook where Oscar wrote down the menus. It was obvious he would remember his handwriting and have something to compare with! It wouldn't make sense to deny that it was written by him. But then what was left? Prostitution? Never!

And, speaking of stupid Madeleine causing unnecessary entanglements… If Albert had kept the letter, who had the envelope with the money?

"As I was saying," Albert continued, he must have calmed down a bit, realizing his interlocutor was having an even worse time than himself, "I wasn´t bothered by receiving that letter. I got some friends with those kinds of tendencies, so in a way I'm used to it. You don't need to be ashamed”

"Could you give me a minute?"

And Albert gave it to him.

Oscar needed to think, think as fast as possible! He was worried about what would have happened to the money because, if he had fallen into the hands of who he supposed, he would soon spend it. That would be irrecoverable, given the case. And Theresa couldn't — nor would it´d be fair for her to — afford those books a second time. Not Theresa, not Madeleine, not him. Since, although he was the only one of these three people who had a certain regular income, his salary wasn´t that big.

Not even saving for a full year was he sure he could replace that money!

That was one thing. On the other hand, what he was urging now was to clarify things with the villain because, what was he going to say? Admitting the letter was his and lying, saying that it was addressed to him, could have consequences he wasn´t prepared to bear. That is, he didn't have anything against homosexuality either, but he had no intention of engaging in any relationship! Even less with the guy who would murder him a few chapters later.

Although, and this had to be considered, Albert had not shown any anger at believing that he was being courted by another man. Ergo, he was not a bigoted person — odd, considering the time they were in-. And if he hadn't been mad at this, what was it that would make him lose his temper? Not that Oscar wanted to find out, for the fear he still professed the mere presence of him, but he really considered that this was an important question to fully understand the psychology of the character and, incidentally, avoid a certain death.

"Ultimately, there has been a mistake," Oscar declared at the end, choosing an option.

He had read enough toxic romance novels to realize that lying was the worst thing he could do. Sooner or later, the truth would come out, and that could make even the calmest person on the planet angry.

"I'll explain what happened," he began. “I suppose you already know that Madeleine Cornell is after Mr. Seymour (well, her and a half the town, but that doesn't matter now). The point is that the other day she asked me for help to write a letter for the aforementioned, because she didn´t feel capable of doing it. I'm not too bad at writing, so I decided to do what she asked me to.” Seeing that Albert's face darkened when he heard that, he decided not to hide anything. “Why did I agree if I no longer worked for the Cornells? It was neither for money nor for the friendship that unites us, but for Theresa. I hadn't realized before, but Patrick Seymour has somewhat particular preferences regarding women...”

"He wanted to be with Theresa?" Albert guessed, perceptive as usual. “I caught him a couple of times looking in our direction, when I was with her and the Mullins, but he never approached us.”

"Yes, in fact, the only reason he hired me was to help with that. It didn't feel right to me, but I didn't want to quit either, because you know how bad the economy is at the Cornell house. That's why, and because Theresa didn't want anything to do with him either, I decided to help Madeleine. My plan was for her to be the one to attract Mr. Seymour's attention, so that he would forget about Theresa.” After a pause in which he allowed Albert to absorb this new information, he concluded. “I hadn't planned on the Cornells coming today, I did my best to keep them from coming. So I had to go the extra mile and leave Theresa with you, as I was sure Mr. Seymour wouldn't dare disturb  if he saw her in your company.”

"So the letter was for Patrick Seymour."

“That's it”

"And you don't want anything with me."

Why the hell does he sound disappointed? Oscar wondered. But he didn´t want to fall into traps or misunderstandings, so he was quick to say:

"On that, I have to say that I fully agree with what you said earlier. It's too early to think about romances. I think we have a nice friendship right now and I wouldn't want to break it for a misunderstanding like this.”

"Friendship, you say." Albert smiled as if he didn't believe anything and, indeed, that was where Oscar knew he had screwed up. “You have been visiting my house for months and you are still treating as a stranger”

"May I speak to you in an informal way then?"

‘Ah, so that was the problem. I wish they were all so petty!’

"Isn't that what you do with my sister? Or what you should, because she herself told me that she had given you permission.”

“I wasn't sure it was the right thing to do, so I tried to be as ambiguous as possible when it came to speaking. But if none of you have a problem with me addressing like that with you, I'll start doing it”

The villain seemed to acquiesce and that relieved Oscar somewhat. But hey, now what? Were they all going to be as friendly as if none of this had happened?

"You should be more careful when choosing masters," Albert had said suddenly, returning to his usual coldness and getting Oscar back on the defensive. “Patrick Seymour is a con man disguised as a nobleman, and as for Madeleine Cornell… Well, you'd better stay away from her or you'll end up badly.”

Was that a threat? No, it didn't sound like one. It seemed like advice, because he didn't add anything else about it, nor did he try to coerce him. Besides, before saying goodbye to Oscar, he added that he could continue to come to Thornfield whenever he wanted, that he was welcome.

Albert didn't seem angry about what had happened during the last few minutes. And yet Oscar was no less nervous when he returned to the fairgrounds. No longer by the villain, because it was seen that that was more or less controlled, like a tiger in his cage. But for the damn envelope with money he could not return if it was really lost.

Speaking of the envelope… Albert didn't ask him what Madeleine had to do with being handed an envelope to him. Had he imagined what he shouldn´t too? Although, looking at it on the bright side, if the villain began to think that way about Oscar, it would be unlikely that he would kill him, right?

Oscar no longer knew whether to laugh or cry. He thought it was a mistake to stay in Lilac Hall when he found out that he had transmigrated. He should have gone to London or any other prosperous city in the country, even if he had to get around there doing the meanest jobs, just to get rid of the Cornells and all the misadventures they would cause him!

He finished his work at the fair and, at around seven in the afternoon, he went to find Madeleine.

He hoped she hadn't left yet, either because her father's employees hadn't finished packing up yet or because she was waiting for someone who didn't come to her call. And Oscar wasn´t wrong, near some stalls already half dismantled he found, not only the protagonist, but also the postman, who was still talking to her.

Great! Thought Oscar as he approached. The two people I feel like hitting together!

"Hey, Oscar!" Sayer greeted him cheerfully. “How are you doing? By little and we do not coincide today.”

"Oscar, it's all so horrible!" Madeleine burst into tears as she tried to pounce on him. “I've been waiting for Patrick for hours! Until it got dark and a very rude man with a broom told me to go home.”

"It's horrible, no doubt!" Sayer confirmed.

However, Sayer did not say it because Madeleine had been given a sit-in in the worst way, since he was not even aware of that incident. He spoke of the fact that the girl had come forward to hug Oscar and he, instead of taking advantage of the physical contact, had stopped her before his arms reached him, putting his hand on her forehead, as if trying to stop a five-year-old too cloying.

"We all better calm down here," Oscar began, trying not to show how angry he was, either. “Madeleine, tell me what happened this time.”

"I was waiting in the temple, as we agreed. I was up to twenty minutes early, to be sure! But Patrick never came. I waited an hour and then two, but nothing. I only left because they kicked me out! And I don't understand, I really don't,” she continued, sobbing. “I came to think that I had the wrong place, but it is not possible, there is no other temple in the whole town. And… and when I returned to the gardens there was no sign of Patrick.”

Seeing the state in which the protagonist was, Sayer didn´t hesitate to take a handkerchief from his pocket and offer it to her with flagrant gallantry. Madeleine stared at it silently, indecisive for a moment, before grasping it with two fingers, as if the aforementioned object was toxic.

"Did you put the letter in his pocket, as I indicated?"

"Of course I did!" She exclaimed, after cleaning herself, after a lot of work choosing which side of the handkerchief to stain with her snot. “He didn´t separate from his group of acquaintances, and the neighbors also came to speak with him often. Especially in the morning. It was very easy to approach without noticing.”

"Did you see him read it?"

“No, not that. But he did open the envelope in front of me, and when he looked inside, his face lit up!”

Oscar felt himself sinking even further into misery.

"I don't understand what you two are up to, I just know that when I found Miss Cornell, she was already in this state. I was asking what had happened to her when you arrived,” Sayer put in. “Now if it's Patrick Seymour she's looking for, I think I can shed some light on that matter.”

“Where is the?!” Madeleine released Oscar to cling to Sayer, who was as embarrassed as he was blissful at the sudden contact.

"About two or three hours ago, I'm not sure. Some friends told me the guy took a carriage and left with his friends in the direction of the city."

“To the city…?”

"To a gambling house, it seems."

“I don´t understand.”

No, Madeleine didn't understand. But Oscar did, and he wish he didn't understand! His legs shook and he sat down on the grass, for the first time since he landed in that novel considering suicide. 

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