Worried that her daughter might suffer a loss, Mrs. Huxley couldn't help but put down her chopsticks and carefully remind her.
"Oh, don't worry, I've got it all under control. I've known him for a long time, I really understand him." Tina Huxley didn't want to discuss how to win over Maxim Sinclair at the dinner table. She interrupted Mrs. Huxley, got up, and served her a bowl of soup, "Let's eat first, we can talk about other things after dinner."
"I have an impression of this child, Maxim Sinclair," Old Master Huxley, who was sitting at the head of the table, suddenly spoke up, "Among the younger generation, he certainly is the most outstanding one. Such a young man really matches well with our family's child in terms of social standing."
"I think so too," Mr. Huxley said, rubbing his wine glass with his right hand, "The only one who matches his status could be our Tina; other daughters don't quite measure up to his level."
