The torrential rain skewed across the streets of London, large raindrops pattering against the stone-paved campus of the University of London, veiling the entire school in a layer of misty vapor.
On the open promenade, the sound of boots hitting the ground echoed one after another, as several Scotland Yard policemen wearing white gloves, cloaked in capes, clad in tight breeches, and armed with officers' swords appeared at the end of the walkway.
Arthur took the pipe from his mouth, the smoke from his nose quickly melting into the chilly air.
Louis also removed his cigar, leisurely releasing a puff of smoke, "How should we broach the topic with Mr. Chopin later? He has just settled in London, yet now we must unwillingly send him to Paris, into the hands of Louis Philippe. Honestly, I don't believe it's a good choice."
Arthur removed his gloves and rubbed his frozen hands, replying calmly.
