Jane Sampson shrugged her shoulders and said nothing, taking the first step into the elevator.
No deep secrets were hidden; it was simply that her style matched Ms. Little's preferences, and with their good private relationship, it was no wonder that Ms. Little was not stingy with her praises for Jane.
Outside the hotel, Ms. Little got into the car with a friend. The summer air inside the car was stuffy, and the man next to her lowered his head to remove his mask and hat, revealing his originally handsome features, albeit his face was a sickly pale, his gaze remained clear.
"Was that Jane Sampson you mentioned to me?" the man asked, his voice exceptionally pleasant to the ear.
If Jane had been there, she would have been surprised; that voice unmistakably belonged to her long-admired idol, James Carter.
