Westminster, London, 4 Whitehall.
Arthur and Disraeli had just alighted from their carriage, and hadn't walked far before he spotted two familiar figures at the corner of the street that led to Trafalgar Square.
Arthur's eyebrows furrowed slightly, and seeing this, Disraeli only asked, "Arthur, what's the matter?"
"Hush!"
Arthur motioned for Disraeli to be silent, then tiptoed forward, and in a manner reminiscent of rabbit-catching, scooped up two boys around the ages of eight or nine by their collars.
"Allen, Adam, you'd best explain yourselves clearly," he said. "Why are you not in grammar school at this hour, and instead rolling hoops near Whitehall?"
Adam turned his head, and then shuddered in fright, "Ar...Arthur, isn't today Friday? Allen said that on Fridays, you usually leave work early to play piano part-time at the theatre."