The Shadow of Great Britain

692: Chapter 335 Restless Air_3 692: Chapter 335 Restless Air_3 “Hastings Inspector was not completely silent.”

Schneider said with a smile, “He had visited the Lord Chancellor’s office before, when Viscount Melbourne and Lord Brougham were present.

After Viscount Melbourne returned, he revised the draft of the “Municipal Police Act” the next day, making significant adjustments to the parts involving Scotland Yard.

According to the standards of the new draft, I estimate Mr.

Hastings will soon be promoted to Assistant Commissioner.”

“Hmm…”

Viscount Palmeston narrowed his eyes and buttoned his hat, “It’s a pity, but also very fortunate.”

Schneider asked softly, “Your Excellency, in what respect is it a pity, and how is it fortunate?”

Viscount Palmeston spoke, “It’s a pity he had not accepted my invitation to work in the intelligence department of the Foreign Office before.

Fortunately, Mr.

Hastings successfully avoided a disaster in Liverpool, so there will still be opportunities in the future.

Of course, there is another piece of luck.”

Viscount Palmeston stared at Schneider and said, “I am very fortunate, August, that your intelligence work is also very commendable now.”

Having said that, Viscount Palmeston then strode towards the carriage on the street outside the hall.

Schneider bid farewell to the minister at the door and breathed a sigh of relief.

He looked at the departing carriage and smirked, “Your Excellency, that approach doesn’t work on me.

I’m not one of those emotionally rich ladies who would thank you for a few flattering words.

Men, after all, prefer something more substantial.”

Having said that, Schneider leaned against the door and took out his pocket watch to check the time.

Four-thirty in the afternoon.

“Estimating that Viscount Palmeston’s return from Number 10 should also be around closing time, why not leave a bit earlier?

Recently, London’s theatres closed due to cholera, and just today, a few have reopened.

If I don’t go and buy a ticket in advance, I might not even be able to enter…

But which play to watch today?

Having been closed for so long, Astley Theatre’s “The Count of Monte Cristo” Act Seven should have been rehearsed by now, right?”

Just as Schneider was thinking about leaving work early to indulge in his passion for theatre, he suddenly felt as if someone was staring at him.

He looked up, and across the street stood an old acquaintance—Mr.

Hastings, who had just finished reporting at the Home Office.

Arthur lifted his hat and waved: “The weather is nice today, Mr.

Schneider.”

Schneider looked up at the sparse drizzle skewed by the wind and joked, “Mr.

Hastings, you must be overworked to the point where it has affected your eyes.

How is this weather nice?”

“Hmm…”

Arthur pondered for a while then suddenly rubbed his freshly stitched eyelid, “Perhaps you’re right, I am overworked.

Look at my eyelid, it’s frayed.

But even if the weather today is bad, it is still better than Russia’s, right?

I’ve chatted with the military attachés at the Russian Embassy before; their weather is like meeting ghosts, all ice and snow.”

On hearing Arthur’s words, Schneider paused for a moment, and then a smile appeared on his face.

He knew what Arthur was talking about, and he guessed Arthur also understood what he was talking about.

“Mr.

Hastings, how could you speak so of our friendly nation?

Although Russia is indeed a land of ice and snow, as a diplomat, I must remind you that Britain’s exports to Russia account for forty-two percent of our total exports, while Russia’s exports to Britain account for seventy-three percent of their total exports.

Russia is an unshakable economic partner and an important ally.”

Arthur, with a pipe in his mouth, blew out a puff of smoke: “If you say so, alright, I can barely understand.

But for humanity, Russia’s snowstorms are still too harsh.”

Upon hearing this, Schneider bowed slightly, smiling as he replied, “I’m sorry, Mr.

Hastings, but all this is God’s will.”

“You’re right.”

Arthur put his hat back on, “I can only pray that one day we might also become like God.”