The architect...

He chose a dark green tie, which were perfectly matching his socks. He tied the knot of his tie with a perfect straight face, without any hint of difficulty or even a slighest pursing of his lips. As usual the knot was just upto his perfection. He changed his black socks into a fresh brown ones and planted a monocle into his breast pocket. He accompained with him an elegant Malacca walking stick, with an extremely heavy silver knob on it.

"Well! This would suffice, I think!" He murmered looking down at himself. He tyen added a flat silver match-box to his equipment. "Well, you never know, it may come in useful. You can never really predict."

He then took a glance at his watch and noticed that the time was already a quater to three. He then rapidly climbed down the stairs and took a taxi, heading towards the Battersea Park.

Mr. Alfredo Wilson was a short-heighted worrisome person. His flaxen hair were now starting to ditch the unequal struggle with fate. If it is not wrong to say that his most and the only striking feature was the large bruise mark, over the left eye- brow. This mark gave him an appearance a strinking look, dispite his more than normal other features, which were just ordinary.

Almost instantly, right in the first greeting the short heighted architect quickly made a self-guilty appology for the brow scar. He murmered not so clearly of having run against the dinning room door, while it was completely dark in there. The tiny man, was overwhelmed and moved instantly to tears in his eyes, by Lord Edward's kindness and sympathizing tone.