Matilda Jenkins' voice was clear, resonant, and polite, neither humble nor arrogant.
After speaking, she looked up at Nicholas Morrison, her eyes bright and open, without the slightest hint of evasion or timidity.
Nicholas Morrison looked at Matilda Jenkins, his expression... indescribably complex, his murky eyes
At his age, having encountered countless people, he only needed a glance to see the essence of a stranger.
The girl in front of him, to be honest, was indeed not bad; at least she was open-hearted, bright inside, simple, and without any sinister thoughts. His son's taste was indeed commendable.
If it were before, when he was still healthy, had his son found such a young lady, he would have been very happy and would have sincerely hoped for his son's happiness.
But now, he might not even see tomorrow's sun; he had to consider his son's future.
