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Lovely fiction

Contrary to myself: part 9

Meanwhile, while the happy family of Prince Vyazemsky was having breakfast peacefully in his mansion, a hired black cab was slowly rolling through the streets of London. Having prettyly stomped on narrow streets, the cab stopped at an inconspicuous-looking inn on the outskirts of London. The restaurant was old and shabby, with a rickety sign - an ideal meeting place for those who do not want to be recognized.
      A fair-haired young man emerged from the crew, looking like an ordinary English dandy: he was dressed in a beige suit of thick cloth and a dark blue cloak, a stunning light top hat flashed on the head of a stranger, and in his hand he casually held a cane, on the handle of which was a grinning bear head is carved. The man squeamishly looked around, it was evident from everything that he very rarely had to look into such slums.

Gently pushing the door with his hand in a light leather glove, the stranger went inside. Stopping on the threshold, he looked through the eyes of the one whom he was supposed to meet in the tavern.
      In the darkest corner of this drinking establishment sat, wrapped in a black cloak, a dark-haired young man. Before him stood on the table only a started bottle of whiskey and an empty glass.
He sat back in a chair, pulled his hat almost over his eyes and seemed to be sleeping, however, seeing a dandy appear on the threshold, he perked up and raised his hand up, giving a sign where he was.
      A dandy in a light suit carefully walked past the tables, trying not to get dirty, because the cleanliness in this tavern was clearly only a distant memory, and approached the dark-haired man.

“You should have paid me for agreeing to meet with you in this viper, dear cousin!” - Dandy grimaced with disgust. “If not for the urgent news and your sickening mystery, I would not have come here for anything!” I am already silent about what terrified eyes the coachman made when I called him the address! It seems that only bandits and crooks live in this area.

“You talk too much, as always,” the dark-haired grumbled, angrily glaring at the blond with piercing blue eyes. - And do not call me a cousin, but we agreed! Sit down and talk! Did you manage to get there?

The blonde looked with obvious doubt at the plain chair that his cousin had moved to him, quite rightly doubting his cleanliness. But he knew very well that patience was clearly not one of his cousin's merits, and so he nevertheless cautiously sat down on the edge of the chair.