"A book of engravings came in from France."

Oh no, not French engravings. "Look, I know that art for art's sake nonsense has never been your style. That's fine. But it does extremely well with the first editions crowd? And we can't exactly get by selling union newsletters, we're not Trots. I can see if I can move it so that it can't infect the minds of innocent children, or stress you out anymore."

"I'm not criticizing it, I just-- don't want to spend so much of my time handling the shop and the children."

"Sure."

"While you get to go off gallivanting around England."

"Yes. Gallivanting to the asylum. With my beloved companion William Jing."

"Not all of our customers thrill me either."

"When you were spending time with the kids you hated that, now you're complaining about seeing your friends? William isn't some shitty customer, you know that."

"I know. No one is making you spend time with him. In fact, I'm asking you to not."

"Were you even listening to me earlier? I'm doing this for Roby, and for the money. Which I get that we need, believe me."

"I don't get why you care about-- Fine. I'm going to bed."

"You don't get why I care about a guy who's doped up on opium all the time and had to beg me for a pencil so he can do the one thing that brings him comfort? None of that sounds sympathetic or relatable to you?"

"You're going to help him more by publishing books that can help the entire working class!"

"I would if I had any time to do it! Between the Roby stuff and manuscripts and letters I'm just, I'm burning the candle at both ends, Hannah, Jesus. I've had nightmares."

"Great! So do I. If I can sleep at all."

"You have nightmares about, what, Charlie seeing a Beardsley print? I know we've all got a lot weighing on us but I don't think you know what I'm talking about."

"You going to prison again!"

"Sorry I went to prison? Jesus, Hannah, do you want me to apologize for that or what? For something-- he did?"

"No, I just-- forget it. Please take the children more, or take more shifts at the shop, or. Something."

"Fine. Whatever it takes to make you happy. And I think it'd be a good idea if I spent more time at the store."

He knew Hannah was going to brush off the dream but he cannot fucking handle the rest, the things that are objectively real problems. Goddammit. She's so jaded.

He's going to go to his study and ignore his pile of correspondence and try to do his homework, another ten pages of Roby explaining his awful and repetitive dreams in a bunch of multiclausal Teutonic sentences which use obscure jargon. And then go to bed and probably have another dream about the Yellow sign that makes him feel like everything's ruined.

That's the joy of the literary, bohemian life!

The next day--

Dear Mr. Jing,

I am so pleased to know that Mr. Smith wishes to help. Perhaps Mr. Roby will be able to be free after all! Thank you for your work.

I am worried that Mr. Roby's brother, Mr. Graham Roby, would continue to present a problem. Mr. Graham Roby has many connections and most judges are reluctant to rule against the wishes of the family in such a matter. Perhaps you and your confederates can speak with him?

--Dr. Aarons

Okay, so that's good news. Time to track Graham down and charm him into thinking his brother is reformed. Also he does need to convince him that everything is fine so they can work together to convince a judge.

Jing Yi sends a letter, asking to organize a meeting with him to discuss his brother's case-- and he's terribly sorry to bother him with something so horrid, but he is working with Dr Aarons and does need to speak with him in person.

Graham Roby says that this afternoon will be fine.

He shows up to where Graham Roby is, doing his best to look as Professional As Possible (and not like Dr Aarons hired a bohemian).

"Are you Mr. Jing?" Graham Roby says.

He is a very high-level professional dresser. Before him, Jing Yi looks like Inaaya, British received pronunciation accent or no British received pronunciation accent.