"Is that so?"

Barclay grabbed a damp tissue, leisurely wiping his hands.

Moira felt her hand tremble beneath her as she heard his words.

"Yeah," she said with a chuckle. "Mr. Covington, you go on to work. Sometimes I just don't have much of an appetite."

Barclay looked at her for a moment. "Okay."

He didn't press further, rising from the table and leaving.

He took a couple of steps before halting, then turned back to glance at Moira, who seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. "Thanks for yesterday afternoon," he said.

"It's a trifle. Never mind."

She was the one who needed more help than he did.

Barclay shifted his gaze away and turned to head upstairs.

Soon enough, Moira saw him descending, his tie neatly done.

"Take care, Mr. Covington."

hand. Barclay gave her

heard the sound of

turned to head upstairs to the piano

of her time, familiarizing herself with the pieces and getting them all memorized. With such a

do at

were on the sheet music, but

the seventh mistake, Moira

words in her dream had

piano lid and lay on top of it for a

a time like this, it was best to consult Juliet, who may be

sent a very gloomy

work and prepared to relax for a while, saw Moira's message and quickly typed back. [What's wrong,

to explain. [I've encountered a

so tangled up? Tell me about

hesitated and deleted it. After a moment of consideration, she decided to be direct. [Juliet, dol.net think Barclay would like someone like

for so many years, Juliet immediately sensed that something was off. [You've developed feelings

in an

guessing

couldn't help but like him involuntarily! If you like him, just go for it. What's there to

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