Chapter 36: Chapter 36 – Theories of murder

Madeleine didn´t stop until she had reached the same room, now empty, in which the previous day she had been seen talking with the other women. Once inside it, and having made sure no one was going to disturb them while they were there, she urged the other two inside, slamming the door behind them.

"Well, now we can treat this subject with the discretion it deserves," she said, motioning for the two servants to take their seats in a separate armchair as she chose the most comfortable chair. “Where do we start? Oh I know! Oscar, now I'm going to tell you what I found in Mr. Patterson's room, as well as my impressions of what really happened that fateful night”

Hearing this, Oscar was going to make some poisoned remarking. Something like ‘the fateful night’ sounded as theatrical as unnecessary, since not even twenty-four hours had passed since Patterson was found dead. But Kenneth was even more outraged.

“What about me? I was the one who got to the room first! I'm the one who should be telling what I saw!”

“You? You didn't even have permission to roam that floor! Let's not say to enter the room of one of the guests... You should be grateful I did not accuse you to the hosts! Because, if I had, you would have been fired for a long time”

"What´s she saying? You couldn't get into that wing either! And… and you came up the stairs from the service wing! So anyone would think you were up to no good”

"You dare threaten me ...? And nothing good, he says! I already told Oscar that I was coming to investigate the death of Mr. Patterson, now it turns out that you don't believe me? Or is this a strategy to make me run out of arguments? Whatever it is, it won't work! Although it´s strange that I walked down the corridor that led to the men's rooms, I still have more right than you to do so!”

Kenneth began to say that wasn´t a justification, but stopped halfway, seeing that his companion asked him for silence. Oscar was already starting to get a headache from listening to that pointless discussion, so he concluded it would be best to ask them to get to the point with their descriptions.

"Let Madeleine begin," Oscar suggested, completely ignoring the victory gesture she made to mock Kenneth, once she saw her dear friend take her side, "let's go by order of intelligence. Then you tell me what you saw and, finally, I will draw my conclusions”

"Well, if you want, we can do that." Patting Oscar on the shoulder, Kenneth added. “But you didn't need to look down on yourself like that, you know? You aren´t as stupid as you look, quite the opposite”

"Madeleine," said Oscar, ignoring the fact that more than one must have misinterpreted the order, "will you please begin. Give all the details you want, but with objectivity. I don't want to know of any deductions until you have both finished describing the place to me”

"Don't worry, I still hadn't decided yet to tell you all my deductions. I don't want you to take credit from me before the Ramseys,” Madeleine pointed out, and when the other didn't open his mouth to protest such provocative insinuation, she decided to continue. “Now, about the room... There really isn't much to tell, it was a lot like the ugly little room they prepared for me. It had the same cloudy green curtains and poorly painted pictures by the same author. The blankets were still bloody, I don't know if on the recommendation of the police or due to negligence of the service, but it´s a waste, because they seemed of good quality! Oh, and the furnishings… The furnishings were lousy oriented. If I were the owner of this place, I would have completely changed the decoration. They all like to admire that the mansion is old and the furniture is worthy of a collector, but...”

"Have you gone to admire the decorations or to look for clues?

"The clues, of course! But it is more complicated than you think, especially after the officers have left. The room is naturally not as it was found this morning, you can't blame me if any evidence was lost in the process”

"In short, you have nothing."

"S-sure I have. F-for example... the fireplace wasn´t lit, and it was cold in the room. In addition, the firewood and embers remained there, surely since the last time the fireplace was used. From this I gather that Mr. Patterson was unable to start the fire because all the wood had already been used and the employees didn´t do their job of cleaning well!”

"Or maybe he did turn it on, but since that's a crime scene, the police wouldn't give permission to clean," Kenneth pointed out, not wanting to be smart, but earning a reproachful look from Madeleine. “They didn´t remove the blankets either, and look how they were.

“I insist the fireplace was not normal, there was too much dirt, as if they had thrown in too much firewood and coal at once! I don't care if it ignited or if it stopped igniting, the generated dust was scattered on the floor, outside the confines of the chimney, and a gentleman shouldn´t tolerate that!”

In this there was no possible discussion. Even in someone else's home, everyone was doing their best to keep their own space clean and livable. If Patterson had messed something up, he would have called someone of the service to take care of it. Either that, or less likely, he would have cleaned it up himself.

"There were traces of paper in the fireplace...”

"There weren't!"

"Yes, there were!" Kenneth insisted, offended his word was doubted. “What happens is you were too disgusted to bend down to look, but I did it and I was looking among the remains. That´s why I can safely say someone burned paper there! I even took a piece that seems to have been forgotten by the officers!”

Saying this, he began to rummage in the pockets of his pants, which were quite stained with black. Oscar noticed then, when Kenneth pulled out a piece of charred paper, that his hands weren't as dirty as one might expect from someone who had been playing among pieces of coal. And, looking at his pants, he understood why: Kenneth must have cleaned them on his clothes.

But anyway, Kenneth's null discretion was also something that Oscar didn't care about. So, sparing a comment on it, he took the paper with two fingers and scanned it quickly, before handing it back.

There wasn't much to look at, as the piece was only about four centimeters long and was just the corner of a document. Part of a seal could be seen, but nothing else. No names, no titles, much less paragraphs with a legal spiel or blackmail letters. Nothing. Besides, the paper was so scorched from the middle to the upper left corner that it was a miracle it didn´t fall apart in the grip of whoever was holding it.

“Anything else?”

Madeleine must have thought about it, because to that question there was no answer. And when Oscar was about to give the floor to Kenneth, she started to say:

"That Mr. Patterson, as much as they say otherwise, he must have been a drunkard." Before anybody asked, she explained. “On his nightstand there was a half-pot of infusion and an empty cup that must have been used and that I assume the cops have already analyzed.”

"If it was there, they didn't," Kenneth put in. “Remember the blankets and the...”

"They did, I said!" She exclaimed sharply. “And they found nothing strange in it, otherwise they would have taken the cup and the kettle to the doctor so that he could help them determine what it was that Mr. Patterson drank”

Oscar was going to say that Madeleine had finally made a correct deduction. Well, even if it was necessary to make an analysis of the content of those two containers, if after a first inspection it had been suspected that there was something serious inside, they would have been taken it out immediately. But, as always, Madeleine had to screw it up somehow.

“With all this it can be deduced that Mr. Patterson drank excessively during the night and that, therefore, he needed to drink something to calm the hangover that would come later”

"Did you see him drink?"

"Of course, in the living room and at dinner. We all drank… Or well, almost all of us”

“And you were controlling the amount of alcohol he drank?”

“Of course not! Who do you think I am? As if there were no more important things to do...!” Turning to Oscar, this time he asked. “Control your little friend, will you? He seems like a rude person to me. And see that I love Patrick very much, but some members of his service are very poorly educated”

"Either way, it doesn't matter too much how much Mr. Patterson drank or stopped drinking," Oscar said. “The infusion must have been something habitual with him. Not only yesterday, but also the day before. At night he asked someone to take it to his room. I imagine that if we ask the servants who work for him, they will all agree this was one of his customs”

Madeleine didn´t want to argue further upon hearing this. Not wanting to admit her defeat, she might have concluded that for the moment she benefited the most from listening to others. As for Kenneth, he did nothing but nod when Oscar mentioned the deceased's drink, as if he already knew that. As if he had even taken the time to speak with those closest to Mr. Patterson and verify these facts.

“I wanted to take advantage of the fact that everything was there to smell it, because there were a few drops of infusion inside the cup and there was also liquid in the kettle”

"You didn't just smell that," Madeleine murmured, still annoyed that she wasn't getting the attention she thought she deserved. “You sniffed the entire room, as if you were a dog. When I entered I found him on all fours, sniffing the carpet. It´s so unfortunate!”

"It wasn't! It´s just that the murderer could have dropped some substance, or have some kind of smell in particular that could be distinguished from the millions of particles so normal in any room. For example, once they told me about a guy, who...”

"What did the infusion smell like?" Oscar cut him off.

"To that! Infusion! It didn´t have any strange intermingled odor”

"His nose's already gouged, still on top," Madeleine continued.

“I said no! Look, the carpet smelled dirty, and I could actually discover some dirt and moisture stains on it. In the light, I noticed that there were even traces of some footprint, like boots. So I thought, ‘this must have been Mr. Patterson's thing,’ because he had his hunting boots in the corner. But I walked over to see the boots and, guess what! They were clean. I have yet to ask whoever does the cleaning if they were the ones who removed the mud from the guests' shoes, but in principle I think so. Because, let's see, today the hunt was supposed to continue, right? It´s logical the masters wanted to return to the fields with clean shoes and clothes.” Seeing that Madeleine was about to make another of her remarks, Kenneth hastened to continue. “I also smelled the fireplace and I can assure you papers were burned there... and nothing else! In bed it was the most curious, because there I didn´t notice any particular odor, other than that belonging to Mr. Patterson (and don't ask me how I know what he smelled like!). Therefore, I know for a fact that a woman was in bed with him during some point of the night, because even though I did not smell him, the mattress gave me its clues”

"And you know it from sniffing around," concluded the protagonist, fed up with that monologue.

“Yes! Well no, not just for that. There were marks on the sheets where Patterson lay, and next to him as well. The pillows were placed in a certain way, the sheets were rumpled and it was missing… uh… How to explain it? Mr. Patterson was stabbed, but the bloodstains weren't scattered like they should. It's as if, after a dry afternoon, it starts to rain and you only move from where you were when rain has already fallen. Obviously the place where you stopped is going to stay dry for a few seconds! Well that's more or less what I noticed in the bed”

"That and the wrinkled sheets”

“Yes!”

"Nothing to do with the servants not ironing the laundry properly"

“No! Why does it have to be always our fault?”

Madeleine seemed to be about to ask Oscar not to listen to this charlatan, who had already bothered enough when she was trying to inspect the deceased´s room. But, to her surprise, Oscar asked:

"What can you tell me about the windows? And the door?”

"The windows all locked, like the ones in our floor. They can be opened, but very little. The door was unlocked, and I didn't find the key where it´s usually left for guests to use, so I thought maybe even the police won't know where it is. Because if they knew they would have locked the room until a more thorough investigation was carried out”

"Anything else you want to add about the room? In case not, I have a couple of questions that I can only ask you. My reason? Simply because you are by far the person I have seen the most socialize with Ramsey employees since we arrived”

“Shoot! I am delighted to be of use”

Kenneth smiled, while Madeleine grunted something unintelligible. She probably wanted to interrupt again, but since she was interested in that too, she was trying to contain herself.

"First, I'm interested in how Mr. Patterson has been doing in his business, both now and in the past, since he took it over. Second, I´d like to know who was supposed to attend him this morning when he woke up, as well as who had to be the last to see him go to bed. And, third, it would be nice to know with whom of those present in this mansion he was in good terms. In the same way that it´d be profitable to know if there was someone with whom he really got along badly”

"Ah, Mr. Patterson ran a woodworking business in London, although I think you already know that. They told us about it the first day, when we arrived. The thing is that he has less than twelve employees and the thing allows him to live well, but they say he´s no longer as rich and wealthy as he was in the past”

"When you mention the past, how long ago do you mean?"

"I don't know, ten or fifteen years? That's when they say he inherited the business, but it wasn´t the small workshop that it is today. No. It was a factory with more than a hundred employees! What happens is that this was managed badly, or there were already debts from before the man had to deal with, and in the end he had to get rid of most of the staff and move to London. Because that factory they had wasn´t in the capital, but in Dorset. I´ve even heard anecdotes about the employees who stayed on the street! And there are a few so tragic that...”

"Go on with the second thing I asked you, please."

Oscar wasn´t interested in knowing in depth that past through Kenneth's mouth, because at least he knew what had been mentioned in the original work. In the end, he was only asking to verify that that part of the story had not changed.

"Well, as you know, Mr. Patterson was one of those who didn't bring many servants with him, just the coachman who brought him here and a couple of porters who were busy helping him on the hunt and transporting his luggage," Kenneth continued, as if he would have changed the disc by now and started playing a new tape. “So it was Mr. Weiss who was in charge of waking him up in the morning... and it was also he who brought you the infusion last night”

"That's strange, usually that butler doesn't serve drinks to guests," Madeleine pointed out. “They should have alerted one of the maids or another servant if Patterson needed anything.”

"It was done the day before!"

"This is suspicious."

"Let's go on to talk about the guests," Oscar proceeded, leading them away from that line of debris; just as he did not trust that the villain was the culprit, he also didn´t believe the butler had taken part in a possible homicide. Not even in this new version. “Discounting Mr. Ramsey, who else did Mr. Patterson get along with?”

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He asked the question looking at Madeleine, knowing she was the one who had spent the most time in the company of the guests and, therefore, assuming that she would be the one who could give her impressions on the matter. However erroneous or subjective they might be. But Madeleine must not have been aware that great things - or at least not as trivial as those she had offered up to now - were expected of her, because she returned a look of pure amazement to Oscar as she simply asked, sarcastically:

"Oh, now does my opinion serve you?"

"We'll move on to Kenneth, then."

“Idiot! I was in the living room, I put up with him for much longer!” She hurried to protest, a little more forgetting her manners and covering Kenneth's mouth so he wouldn't start chattering again. “I was even able to exchange a few words with him. Not like you townspeople, who didn't even have a chance to get within ten meters of him”

"On the hunt I did get close to him…" Kenneth complained under his breath.

"Not to say that you are also from the town," thought Oscar wryly. "Who are you trying to insult?"

"Discounting our host, Mr. Patterson got along with everyone," Madeleine began. “He was a very kind and considerate man. Maybe even too talkative, but not in a bad way, since he made sure he could strike up a conversation with even the most stale of people. And with this mean the bitter Mrs. Lewis and that boring neighbor of ours, Mr. Northrop”

"Mr. Northrop is boring...?" Kenneth whispered the question to Oscar, so only he could hear it.

He hadn't said it explicitly, but Oscar understood why this was asked to him: Kenneth had never had much of a deal with the villain, apart from the courtesy spoken in the few times the two crossed paths. And, although he knew well of his character from all the rumors he collected about it, he had never taken too much interest in him. Or well, never until he found out that his roommate was in some kind of non-verbal fight with him to get Madeleine's favors.

Then, as much as Kenneth was told the villain was a boring guy who didn´t get into fights or was interested in any sport typical of gentlemen (such as hunting), he´d only find it interesting and for the sake of considering Oscar as a rival. Even having the courage to go looking for him in his own rooms, thus ignoring all the rules of etiquette.

"He was talking about the hunt, about his business in London, about the social season that Father had the nerve to allow me to lose…" Madeleine numbered, making an effort to remember. “Well, in general he talked a lot with everyone, there was no one he left out. He was so tiresome! Even though I didn't feel like listening to him, answering him with monosyllables or short sentences, he kept talking like nothing! He almost gave me a migraine, look what I'm telling you!”

"I suppose you couldn't have remembered exactly what he talked about. Or if there was something in his speech that caught your attention”

"Oh no, that man only knew how to recall anecdotes from the past and connect them with people and events that who knew what they had to do with me! He was tedious, I immediately stopped hearing him. It was so much more rewarding to listen to my fiancé. Oh, and speaking of him, have I already mentioned how well he handles these events? Not only in the field, but also when...”

"Nothing relevant, then," concluded Oscar, who was beginning to wonder why someone hadn't done them the favor of killing one of the protagonists, even if it was just to save himself this.

"It was relevant! I… Let's see, I didn't stick with what he said because I didn't think it was interesting. But I do know he didn't argue with anyone! He got along with everyone, until the last minute”

Madeleine pronounced this proudly, as if she had achieved a great achievement. But her disappointment returned to her face as soon as she saw Oscar turn to Kenneth, to ask him the same question. The protagonist was furious, although she tried to keep all her resentment for later; how dare this freak ignore her testimony, when she was one of the main witnesses in the case, and prefer to listen to a handful of gossip from the service? It was unheard of!

"Mr. Patterson got along with the older Foleys," Kenneth pointed out, pleased by the attention. “And when I say well, I mean that he was almost as close to him as to Mr. Ramsey. Because it seems that the three of them knew each other for many years and such. Then with the rest of the guests it´s as Miss Cornell says; they got along well, although they aren´t intimate. Supposedly, and with the exception of Mr. Seymour, Mr. Patterson already knew all of them before. So, to a greater or lesser extent, he could get along with them and have a decent conversation. There were no disagreements or arguments that I know of. Whether at home or abroad, he tried to be on good terms with everyone”

"Well, someone obviously didn't like him," Madeleine interjected.

"I've been thinking, who could be his lover? I took the trouble to ask some of the maids who served the ladies and, discounting that some (like Mrs. Ramsey's) were offended by my asking that, they all told me they had no knowledge of him hanging out with their mistresses. Of course, they could lie to me... But I don't think it's possible! I mean, the dead man's bed didn't smell of perfume. But there had to be more than one person there because otherwise the bloodstains would have reached the other end of the quilt and… Oh, I know! Maybe one of these people has blood stained their nightgown. That would be the ultimate proof that they slept with Mr. Patterson!”

"Or that they killed him...”

“Huh? Why would they sleep with him and then kill? They would have left clues that they were there! It's a mediocre job”

"Now you criticize ways to commit murder? With what authority?”

Before those two began to argue, Oscar urged Kenneth:

"So we agreed that no one had reason to want Mr. Patterson dead." Not on the surface, at least.

And he believed it well, because in the hunt he himself observed him being participative, wanting to help others.

"Who did he get along with worse? Or, put another way, who did he talk to the least?”

"With Mr. Foley… Ah, but I mean the youngest, maybe because they weren´t the same age and didn't have much to say to each other. Although wait, that doesn't make sense either, because it was said of Mr. Patterson that he talked for a long time with Mr. Ramsey's children, and those are quite a bit younger than Foley,” Kenneth began to ramble. “Nevermind! The thing is that some have less character or things to share than others, right? He also spoke little with Mrs. Lewis, although that can be easily explained, because she spent more time in her room than in the company of the rest of the guests. And well, there is also Mr. Northrop. I think his father and Mr. Patterson were friends from before, so the two knew each other, but it doesn't seem like they were very close”

"Isn't Mr. Northrop the murderer?" Madeleine asked, though you could see from her voice that she was only testing Kenneth.

"Well… It could be, right? He slept in the same wing as the deceased, so he would have had easy access to his bedroom”

"Yes, just like the other male guests," Oscar pointed out.

"On the other hand, he seems to be a cold and calculating person. It sure would have been easy for him to come up with a plan to kill someone!

"But Albert Northrop wasn't coming to the hunt in the first place, he came to replace his father. Having found out not a week ago that he would have to come, wouldn't it be a bit hasty to plan a crime?”

"It could also have been an unplanned crime, committed in the heat of the moment. Perhaps, even if they didn´t confront each other in front of the rest of the staff, Mr. Northrop found out who Mr. Patterson was seeing. And, outraged as he was in the face of so much impropriety, he decided to end the life of that wretch whom he considered a traitor! Although of course, Mr. Northrop with the personality he has, wouldn´t do that for just any woman. Unless the one who lacked honor went was...”

Kenneth paused here, perhaps pondering that it would be a lousy idea to hint that Madeleine might have been caught in bed with the victim by the villain.

Be that as it may, Oscar made sure to keep breaking his illusions of putting together a new soap opera one by one:

"I don't think Mr. Northrop is interested in what any woman does with her life. No matter who she is” Leaving no room for retorts, he noted. “I say this in general, not only in regards to the relationships that he may have. But I get the impression he´s more of those who prefer to keep his own personal space intact. For this reason, I don´t consider that he´s one to reproach someone for doing or saying something when they´re fully entitled to do so”

Both Kenneth and Madeleine were dumbfounded hearing this. After a few seconds it was the latter who spoke, asking a question that brought Oscar back to earth:

"Since when do you defend Mr. Northrop so much?"

"I'm not defending him."

But he had not even finished saying the phrase, when realized that, indeed, he did. Damn! How not to be a little biased, anyway? He didn´t know yet if the aforementioned was a murderer or not. What he was clear about was that, as the plot was right now, they were both friends. And thus far, since Albert had treated him with all the politeness and respect he deserved, why being obfuscated that he was the criminal? Oscar could think about it and give it as much spin as he wanted. But from there to others mentioning him, putting him as a suspect for their own mental rampages... He didn't see it.

Of course, Oscar would defend his own objectivity to death. No matter how partial he just sounded.

Fortunately, before he could formulate an unbelievable statement about his motives for dismissing young Northrop so quickly, Kenneth took care to distract Madeleine from the subject by saying:

"I don't know what troubles Mr. Northrop might be in, but what is certain is that Ms. Bauer is not at all innocent. Haven´t you heard it?” Making sure that this must be the case, he continued cheerfully, pleased to be the first to tell. “It seems that the officers extracted from her that she had been wandering around the bathroom on the first floor...”

"What's that got to do with anything?"

The protagonist asked this question while Oscar was silent. He didn't need to hear what followed to know where the shots were going.

"It was the bathroom in the wing where the male guests were staying!"

“Outrageous”

“Right?”

"She met Mr. Patterson there, right? I knew that this man was unpresentable, from the first time I saw him. Although thank goodness he wasn´t married or courting anyone, because that would be what was missing. I wouldn't want to be the one to find myself in such a predicament, having to go out with a man who dates hookers behind my back!”

Kenneth, as talkative as he was, didn't know what to say here. Maybe he thought about weaving this theme together with what was said about Patrick Seymour and the antics of him in the bathtub, hoping the wires would somehow connect. But, at the last second, he seemed to regret it.

Oscar, on his part, had had enough of crimes and various gossips.

"Anyway, I'll leave you to continue arguing about the crime on your own," he said, standing up, although they didn't count on seeing him make this move, Kenneth still grabbed him by the end of his shirt and pull him in, forcing him to sit up. again-. “What happens now?”

"Y-you said you'd listen to us! You cannot go!”

“Of course I can. I just said I wanted to know what the room of the deceased was like and a couple more information. That after you clarify it to me, you could discuss how, who and why somebody did it. I never said I was gonna stay to hear until the very end!” Getting back up, he moved far enough away from Kenneth so he couldn't catch him again. “I'm sorry, but I'm not interested in this case. Hunting murderers is great for works of fiction, but I appreciate my life in the real world and I don´t see why I should risk my neck for an issue that doesn´t bring me any benefits””

"But Oscar ...!"

Kenneth was going to say something along the lines of: ‘I got here because you convinced me, that's what we're comrades for!’ Or some ridiculous thing like that. Oscar could imagine it. But, on the contrary, Madeleine intervened:

"Let him go, we don't need a coward for this. What's more, I don't even need you! I can solve this murder on my own. You'll see! Messrs. Ramsey will be thankful, the police will congratulate me on my excellent work in the community, and Patrick will finally admit that it is an honor to take me as his wife!”

This is how, from these phrases, a heated discussion was triggered. Which was not about whether or not to force Oscar to continue collaborating with them, but about which of the two was better qualified to carry out such a delicate mission as it was to do the work of the police efficiently, even without having a clue.

Oscar was delighted that things were unfolding in this way and, for once, he was grateful that both of them had such strong characters that their respective prides didn´t allow them to give way in their stubbornness. And so, while they spoke at the top of their voices, each phrase more absurd than the last, he slipped out of the room without anyone noticing.

He had had enough of playing detective, he hadn't lied about that. It wasn't just that he wanted to disassociate himself from these people, it was that he believed he had already fulfilled his duty to ensure that the villain wasn´t involved, as there was not a single clue pointing to his direction. And as long as he wasn´t blatantly involved in the problem, he didn´t care who murderer the victim.

So, as soon as he got rid of those two pests, he returned to the place where he had left Albert, hurrying as much as possible not to make him wait too long. Well, with all the nonsense, he had already wasted about half an hour.

It was still said that it was necessary to know the scene of the crime in order to confirm some of his suspicions. He didn´t regret that, although perhaps he should have pushed his pawns a little more, because by the time he reached the dining room, the person he was going to meet was no longer there.

The villain was more elusive than what he looked: Oscar asked a couple of people who were passing by, and they both told him that Albert had been waiting for about ten or fifteen minutes, until someone came to set the tables for dinner and chose to leave, so as not to get in the way. As for whether he had left a message for him, no, he didn't. He left in silence, as he used to, and left Oscar wondering if he should go looking for him.

At first, Oscar did consider doing it. He walked around the service area, even reaching the main hallway on the ground floor, before giving up. If he hadn't found him by now, what was the point of looking for him? Hell, he must have looked like an idiot! Surely Albert got tired of waiting for him and left on his own. What could he do about it? Nothing! That was the answer. If he asked someone else or kept looking and they asked him why he wanted to see Mr. Northrop, what could he say, that he just wanted to have a small talk with him?

Perhaps Albert found it annoying, considering they had spoken recently. Not to mention that the rest of the inhabitants of the mansion would find it strange, and might even disapprove of it. Well, the two of them might have been friends in Thornfield, but outside of the Northrop estate, everyone thought of them as acquaintances who, due to their difference in status, hardly spoke to greet each other.

Thinking that he would have many opportunities in the future to strike up a conversation with Albert again, Oscar decided to leave it for another time.

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