Clara hurried back to her condominium. When she arrived at her residence, she quickened her pace and, right in front of her door, Clara exhaled deeply, regulating each rhythm emitted by the invisible object from her nose.
"Welcome home, Mr. Reinhard."
The old man had returned. Even though he had only been gone for a short time, Clara felt like something was missing.
"How are you, Miss Clara?" asked the old man with a smile.
"As usual, dealing with the same boring people," she said, "when did you arrive?"
"Yesterday."
"Yesterday?" Clara's thick dark eyebrows rose.
"I won't be long, Miss Clara. I came here just to tell you that you and Arthur must get married immediately! We don't have any more time. Your uncle, Jacob Ficanto, is lobbying several businessmen in this city to buy your family's hotel," said Reinhard.
"Really? Didn't Ficanto want to acquire your family's hotel?"
"I'm not sure yet, sir. But I'll find out," said Clara as she brewed English tea.
