The rain outside the window continued to fall slowly, the dense droplets nearly forming a watery curtain. Although it looked transparent, it concealed Arthur and Disraeli within the coffee shop.
Perhaps the black tea improved Disraeli's foul mood, or perhaps he had suppressed his feelings for too long.
In the Greenwich District, an area not belonging to Disraeli's constituency, in this coffee shop unaware of his identity, he finally poured out his grievances unrestrainedly and step by step, walked into the trap Arthur had intricately woven for him.
In Arthur's view, the first priority of domestic intelligence work was to protect the nation's sensitive information.
To accomplish this task, Arthur, as a humble public instrument of society, had to reluctantly start by understanding sensitive information first.