Coming out of the hotel, they stopped under a streetlight. Old Stewart turned his eyes back on Greta. There was a soft expression on his face and a complicated gleam in his eyes.
Greta felt a little strange. The way General Stewart looked at her was not only the way an elder looked at his kid. It seemed as if he had known her earlier and seemed to have something to say to her.
"Uncle Stewart," Greta took the initiative to ask, "do you have something to say to me?"
Old Stewart didn't expect the young girl to read his mind. He almost blurted out on a sudden urge that Brent was still alive and that he was exactly the young man she was supposed to meet tonight.
But at last, he swallowed it.
"No, it's nothing... I just regret that my son hasn't had the pleasure of meeting you." He grinned.
Greta smiled and blurted out, "It's okay. I'll see you sometime."
Old Stewart nodded.