Blackwell could only vaguely express: "Duty calls."
His heart was filled with regret and resentment. Such an opportunity, how could it be so easily replicated?
Arthur Hastings, you ruin everything!
Your heart of stone is far more unforgiving than the bullets beneath the Tower of London!
Thinking of this, he let out a long sigh.
This sound clearly caught Arthur's attention, who lifted his head and gave Blackwell a faint glance.
Blackwell hurriedly stifled his sigh, pretending to adjust his scarf, muttering to himself: "Such a cold-hearted superior, not even bothering to care about the emotions of his subordinates!"
The atmosphere in the carriage returned to silence once again, leaving only the sound of hoofbeats and wheels crunching through the snow.
Blackwell leaned back against the seat, trying to close his eyes for a short nap, but discovered his mind was filled with those unfinished scenes of a beautiful holiday.
