"Stop thinking about those damn bills. Let's talk about ritual magic." Old Neil said, looking relaxed as he put away the candles, cauldron, and silver knife.
Klein wanted to shrug like an American from his past life but refrained from doing such an ungentlemanly gesture.
He turned his attention back to the ritual magic, asking about the detailed questions he had before, and received sufficiently clear answers. For example, the incantations have a certain format. As long as you follow it and clearly express the key meaning in Hermes language, the rest can be improvised. Of course, blasphemous or disrespectful descriptions are absolutely forbidden.
This "occultism class" lasted until noon. Old Neil coughed lightly and said:
"We must return to Zotland Street."
At this point, he mumbled something indistinctly:
"To get those damn materials, I missed my lovely breakfast."
Klein looked around, amused and puzzled:
"Mr. Neil, don't you have a cook at home? Or a maid responsible for cooking?"
A weekly salary of 12 pounds could afford several servants!
According to the newspaper, hiring a regular cook with accommodation and food provided costs only 12 to 15 shillings a week, not even 1 pound. General maids were even cheaper, with a weekly salary of 3 shillings 6 pence to 6 shillings. Of course, you couldn't expect them to be good cooks.
Uh, wait, considering Mr. Neil still owes 30 pounds in debt, not hiring a cook and servants makes sense…
I seem to have asked an inappropriate question again…
While Klein regretted his question, Old Neil shook his head without a care:
"I often try ritual magic, study extraordinary items, and related literature at home. I can't and won't hire ordinary people as cooks, butlers, or maids. I only have someone come regularly to clean. And if they weren't ordinary people, do you think they would want to do such jobs?"
"I seem to have asked a stupid question. Maybe it's because I don't do mysterious things at home." Klein explained self-deprecatingly.
Old Neil had already stood up, put on his round felt hat, and muttered as he walked out the door:
"I think I smell pan-fried foie gras… Once the bills are settled, I must enjoy a good meal! For lunch, I could eat a whole roast pork with apple sauce. No, that's not enough, I need a sausage with mashed potatoes too…"
Now I'm hungry… Klein swallowed his saliva and quickly followed Old Neil to the nearby public carriage stop.
Back on Zotland Street, as Old Neil got off the carriage, he suddenly exclaimed:
"What do I see? Goddess, what do I see?"
He suddenly moved as nimbly as a seventeen or eighteen-year-old, quickly approaching the roadside to pick up something.
Klein approached curiously and saw that it was a finely crafted wallet.
With his knowledge, he couldn't tell if the dark brown wallet was cowhide or sheepskin, only noticing a light blue small emblem embroidered on it, with a white dove spreading its wings to fly.
That was Klein's first impression. From the second glance onward, his attention was glued to the banknotes bulging out of the wallet.
Those were gray-black patterned gold pounds, at least 20 of them!
Old Neil opened the wallet, pulled out the banknotes, and took a closer look. He immediately chuckled:
"Ten-pound notes, featuring the respected 'Founder' and 'Protector' William I. Oh, goddess, there are 30 of them, along with a few five-pound, one-pound, and five-shilling notes."
Three hundred pounds? This is a real fortune! I might not be able to save this much in ten years… Klein's breathing became heavy.
Given the high value of gold pounds, finding such a wallet was like finding a suitcase full of cash in the future.
"I wonder which gentleman dropped it… definitely not an ordinary person." Klein calmly analyzed.
This kind of wallet obviously didn't belong to a lady.
"Don't worry about who it belongs to," Old Neil said with a light laugh. "We won't try to take money that doesn't belong to us. Let's wait here. I'm sure the owner will come back to look for it. This isn't something anyone would easily give up."
Klein secretly breathed a sigh of relief, gaining a new appreciation for Old Neil's moral integrity.
He had been worried that Neil might use the excuse of "goddess-given" money to pay off his debts, and was struggling to think of how to stop him, how to persuade him.
Is this "do as you wish, but harm none"? Klein suddenly had a bit of an epiphany.
They waited by the street for less than a minute when they saw a luxurious four-wheeled carriage speeding toward them. The light blue emblem on the side featured a white dove with outstretched wings.
The carriage stopped, and a middle-aged man in a black suit and matching bow tie stepped out, looking at the wallet. He tipped his hat and said:
"Gentlemen, this should be my master's wallet."
"Your emblem proves everything, but I still need to verify it for everyone's sake. Can you tell me how much money is in the wallet?" Old Neil responded politely.
The middle-aged man hesitated, then chuckled self-deprecatingly:
"As a butler, I shouldn't know how much money my master has in his wallet. Please allow me to ask."
"Please do," Old Neil gestured.
The man returned to the carriage and spoke through the window for a few moments.
He approached Klein and Old Neil again, smiling:
"More than 300 pounds, but less than 350. My master doesn't remember the exact amount."
Doesn't remember… he really is filthy rich. If I had that much money, I'd count it over and over again… Klein thought enviously.
Old Neil nodded and handed the wallet back:
"The goddess proves this belongs to you."
The middle-aged man took the wallet, roughly counted the money, and then pulled out three ten-pound notes:
"My master is Sir Deville. He says your honesty is commendable and this is the reward honest people deserve. Please, don't refuse."
Sir Deville? The one who founded "Deville Trust Company" and provided cheap rental housing for the lower class? Klein immediately recalled the name.
He was the baronet whom his brother Benson both respected and thought wasn't practical enough.
"Thank the baronet. He is a kind and generous gentleman," Old Neil said, accepting the three notes without hesitation.
After watching Sir Deville's carriage disappear, Old Neil glanced around to make sure no one was nearby, then turned to Klein, lightly flicking the banknotes and chuckling:
"Thirty pounds, the bill is settled."
"I told you, it would be resolved in a reasonable manner."
"This is the power of magic."
… Magic power my foot! How is this even possible! Klein was once again dumbfounded.
After a few minutes, as he entered the staircase and climbed towards the security company, he asked in puzzlement:
"Mr. Neil, why didn't you ask for a larger amount?"
"Don't be greedy, especially when performing ritual magic. Moderation is the key to every Seeker living long enough," Old Neil explained cheerfully.
...
In the grand banquet hall, several chandeliers held numerous burning candles, emitting a pleasant fragrance and providing light comparable to gas lamps.
On the long tables were delicious dishes like pan-fried foie gras, roast beef, roast chicken, fried sole, Dixie oysters, stewed lamb, and creamy soup. There were also bottles of Mist Champagne, Ormill wine, and Southwell red wine, all gleaming temptingly under the lights.
Servants in red waistcoats carried trays with crystal glasses, weaving through the elegantly or lavishly dressed gentlemen and ladies.
Audrey Hall wore a light white dress with a high collar, empire waist, and leg-of-mutton sleeves. Her upper body was tightly fitted, her waist cinched to an extreme thinness, and the multi-layered cake skirt was perfectly supported by a whale-bone hoop.
Her golden hair was elegantly styled, and her earrings, necklace, and rings all sparkled brightly. She wore white dance shoes adorned with roses and diamonds.
"Are there four, five, or six petticoats under here?" Audrey touched the crinoline with her gloved right hand.
Her left hand held a glass of sparkling champagne.
Unlike usual, Audrey didn't position herself at the center of the banquet, becoming the focus of everyone. Instead, she avoided the bustle, quietly standing in the shadow of the curtain by the floor-to-ceiling window.
She took a sip of champagne and, with a demeanor that didn't belong there, distantly observed the people:
The Earl of Wolfe's youngest son was chatting with the Viscount Conrad's daughter. He liked to emphasize his points by waving his forearm. Yes, the more he waved, the less credible his words. This was a proven conclusion… He couldn't help but elevate himself while belittling others, but his insecurity always showed through his speech and body language…
Mrs. Delaf has been using her left hand to cover her laughter repeatedly today. Hmm, I understand now, she's showing off that pure aquamarine ring on her left hand…
Her husband, Duke Negan, is not far away, discussing the situation with a few conservative nobles. Since the banquet began, he has only actively sought his wife with his gaze once…
They hardly make genuine eye contact… maybe, hmm, they're not as loving as they appear…
Baroness Panisse laughed at Lord Larry's jokes seven times. That's normal, nothing strange about that. But why does she look at her husband with guilty eyes… Hmm, they've separated… no, the places they're going both lead to the garden…
...
In this extravagant banquet, Audrey noticed many details she would normally overlook.
For a moment, she almost believed she was watching a play.
"Everyone here is quite a good actor…" she sighed silently, her gaze cold.
At that moment, she suddenly sensed something and swiftly turned her head to look out at the spacious balcony through the floor-to-ceiling window, focusing on a dark corner.
In that shadow sat a golden retriever, quietly watching inside, looking at Audrey, half of its body hidden in darkness.
Susie… Audrey's mouth twitched, her expression collapsing as she could no longer maintain her "observer" state.