Bab 718: The Better Man

Dim and nippy the night had more become. 

After suffering the severe whipping of Irene's ruthless tongue, Mr. Collins hadn't the faintest idea what to think of me anymore.

For the remainder of our time alone, he just kept to himself, thinking to himself, and when he got bored of that, he got up from his chair and wandered about the apartment… his fancy suit stained with spilled wine, his once tucked gray hair now frazzled and unkempt from an egregious amount of scratching and ruffling… all in all, he was pretty much a soulless husk of the sleek and elegant man he once was.

It was kinda hard to see him, and not feel an inkling of sympathy for the poor man. Probably woke up one fine winter day only to then have his entire world flipped upside down with my unceremonious appearance. The bundle of joy he vowed to protect and cherish her whole life, now he has to willingly entrust to another, a stranger—to me.