In the hotel, Matthew Anderson held a cigarette with wisps of smoke curling up.
He lowered his eyes, looking at Yvonne Jones. Although he was silent, his eyes had already betrayed him.
He replied with a question, "What do you think?"
What do you think! These three words were terribly cruel to her.
Cruel enough to make her brain momentarily unable to function.
As Matthew Anderson looked at her, wasn't he looking at a lowly clown?
Yvonne Jones's hand resting on her thigh was trembling, "Why?"
Matthew Anderson tapped ash into the sshtray with a faint, mocking laugh, "Family grudges among themselves— at most, an uncle would give a disobedient nephew a few pointers. But Penelope Jones barges in and still asks me why?"
"Don't you find yourself ridiculous?"
Matthew Anderson was both angry and amused by her furious "why".
It was amusing because she looked so foolish.
So much so that it was pitiful.
