After a while.
The doorbell downstairs was relentless and would not cease.
There was no more mood left in the room.
Norris Moore, deflated, lay on the bed, "I'll go see who it is."
Trenton Smith stood up, "I'll go take a look."
He glanced at her disheveled clothes, "Get dressed first."
Norris Moore now glowed like the blossoms of spring, brimming with allure—how could he possibly let an outsider see her like that?
She sat on the bed, straightening her clothing, and nodded obediently, "Then hurry back."
Trenton Smith turned and went downstairs.
Norris Moore tidied up her clothes and then followed downstairs.
In the living room was Tilly Flower holding a suitcase and wearing makeup; her clothes were different from the afternoon, now changed into a neat outfit of short sleeves and wide-legged pants, looking very crisp.
Seeing Norris Moore coming down the stairs, her smile carried a touch of embarrassment, "...uh, I hope I didn't interrupt anything, did I?"
