Henry Hartwell stroked his chin, pondering for a long while, then suddenly changed his tune. "Alright, I'll go with you."
Claire Sinclair: "..."
'This guy, he never plays by the book!'
"Teacher Hartwell, didn't you say you weren't going?"
"If I don't go, you'll walk in on your own two feet and crawl out on your hands and knees."
"..."
'That's an exaggeration, right...?'
Henry Hartwell had lost the mood to write any more articles. He looked up at her. "Do you have an evening gown?"
Claire Sinclair honestly shook her head.
Henry Hartwell frowned. "If you go without an evening gown, you probably won't even get into the venue."
Claire Sinclair subconsciously thought of a "No Entry for Improperly Dressed Guests" sign. 'If I go, I'll just be setting myself up for humiliation!'
"Teacher Hartwell, why don't you just go by yourself? I don't dare to go..."
"If you don't go, what's the point of me going? It'd be boring."
"Then what if neither of us goes?"
