"It’s lunchtime. Do you mind having lunch with me?" Madam Birch asked. Without waiting for Clara's response, she placed the order.

Dishes were brought out one by one, each one exquisitely presented, but Clara had no appetite.

"Madam Birch, the lunch doesn't matter. If you want to tell me anything, please get straight to the point. I don't like beating around the bush," Clara said.

Madam Birch chuckled. "Well said, Miss Wells. You don't like beating around the bush, and neither do I. But, well