"Is Mr. Laurel living here? Is he home?"
There was no wind today, and the city was enveloped in thick fog. The morning sun couldn't effectively penetrate the clouds, making the entire street look gloomy.
The suspicious drunkard eyed Shard as Shard sized him up in return. Although Mrs. Lemer, the client, could not provide a photograph of the lawyer, this drunkard's physical features did not match the description she had given. He was definitely not the lawyer.
"Laurel? Go find him at the tavern at the corner of the street."
With that, the drunkard attempted to close the door, and Shard was suspicious that this fellow had just come out from a tavern.
Thinking so, Shard reached out to hold the door, rendering the drunkard's attempts to shut it futile. Shard's face sported what he thought was a very amicable smile:
"Sir, I would also like to ask, since when did Mr. Laurel move here? And what does he do for a living?"
