Mrs. Walsh left her room number at the Tuileries Palace with the clerk of the Paris Angel’s store. The latter immediately respectfully indicated that they might be able to deliver her purchased goods there tomorrow morning.
There was no helping it, even though she had bought a whole 300 livres worth of cosmetics, Fashion Week had brought in too many customers, and the store’s delivery staff were busy working 18 hours a day and still could not keep up. This was already the expedited result for her as a Gold Card member.
Afterward, the Walsh couple went to the carriage shop and ordered the latest model of the “Royal Same Type” carriage, spending 800 livres—600 for the carriage, and 200 for the shipping to the British port.
Then, they rushed to the Royal Museum at the Louvre.
In the carriage, Mrs. Walsh looked at the clean and tidy streets of Paris, narrowed her eyes, took a deep breath, and couldn’t help but praise, “This is far cleaner than London; even the air smells sweet.”
Mr. Walsh nodded in deep agreement, “Yes, not a bit of excrement on the streets. Sometimes I have to compliment the French for their cultivation in this respect.”
Mrs. Walsh soon spotted a square and novel little building and inquired about it with the guide.
The latter introduced it somewhat awkwardly, “Ah, madam, that’s a public toilet, a place for passersby to relieve themselves.”
Mrs. Walsh immediately felt embarrassed for her lack of worldly experience and muttered softly, “No wonder the streets are so clean; when can England learn from them.”
She secretly swore to herself that she must learn some French upon returning, else she wouldn’t even recognize the toilets.
Mr. Walsh leaned back in his seat and yawned, “Ah—I don’t even want to return to London. Compared to here, London is just like a rubbish heap…”
The guide’s eyes flashed with surprise and he immediately pointed toward the direction of the Tuileries Palace’s garden, smiling, “Mr. Walsh, perhaps you could buy a villa in the ‘Royal Garden,’ then you could often stay in Paris. Hmm, especially during London’s rainy season, taking a vacation in Paris would certainly be a fine choice.”
The Tuileries Palace’s garden, referred to as a garden, is actually a several million square meter open space next to the palace, a place where Parisians often go for a stroll after dinner.
Walsh blinked and asked, “You mean that large construction of houses on the east side of the Tuileries Palace?”
“Exactly, Mr. Walsh. It will be completed in another three or four months.” The reason the guide was so attentive was that he would receive a commission of 500 livres for every villa sold through his introduction, including the carriage that Walsh had bought, from which he also received a commission of 30 livres.
Walsh was greatly tempted because the villas were very close to the Tuileries Palace, and by opening the windows one could clearly see the facial details of the sculptures outside the palace. Discover hidden content at m,v l’e-NovelFull.net
He then asked, “Do you know the selling price of those villas?”
“Ah, the ones adjacent to the Tuileries Palace are about 50,000 livres, which is 2,000 British Pounds. The ones next to the public carriage tracks are around 1,900 British Pounds. Further out, there are some for 1,500 British Pounds.”
Walsh immediately gasped, although he was well-off, he could not bear to spend 2,000 pounds on a house in France. A villa of the same grade would never exceed 1,000 pounds in London.
Seeing his expression, the guide immediately said, “These villas are definitely worth the money, sir. Not only are they next to the Old Palace. Look, over there they’re building an elite school; only children living in the ‘Royal Garden’ can attend, and it’s said that members of the French Academy of Sciences will teach there.
“And over there, that’s the largest hospital in Paris…
“That one is a shopping mall…
“And to the south, there’s a croquet field…”
In the end, Walsh did not go to look at those 50,000 livres villas—he was afraid he really couldn’t resist buying one, which would make his financial situation a bit tight.
By the time he and his wife had toured Paris and returned to the Tuileries Palace, the afternoon fashion show had already begun.
However, this time Mrs. Walsh enjoyed the fashion show by herself. Her husband went straight to the gaming hall after coming back, excitedly “battling” in front of the Slot Machine.
Mrs. Walsh turned to look at the empty chair on her left and muttered with some surprise, “Why hasn’t Mr. Alvin come?”
Her British journalist friend was at a theater at that time, watching Hurter Xiao search for the “magic fire seed” in the lava with a tense expression.
Indeed, he didn’t have the money for the amusement park, nor did he have the money to shop around. The newspaper sent him to cover Fashion Week but wouldn’t provide too much funding.
But he could afford the theatre ticket, so he decided to spend his time watching plays, not expecting to get hooked from the first viewing.
The play “Breaking Through the Caelum” was simply too captivating! The plot was thrilling, stirring up excitement.
Right when the theater was running a ten-performance marathon, he bought a season pass and had been watching in the theater for a whole day, completely forgetting to cover the Fashion Week events.
Not until the actors performing in shifts were all exhausted and the theater had to close did he finally remember that his work was not done yet.
On his way back to the fashion show venue, he secretly decided that he must translate the fascinating drama he had just seen into English to be performed in London!
In the gaming hall of the Tuileries Palace, Mr. Walsh failed to win after ten rounds, rubbed his hands dejectedly, and was about to insert another silver coin when he heard wild shouts from behind: “Incredible, haha! See that?!”
He frowned, turned his head, and saw a young man with a Russian appearance behind him, monopolizing four Slot Machines in his extravagant red coat. And at that moment, one of the Slot Machines shockingly displayed three Knight symbols!