The room in the Nightingale Mansion was decorated with heavy red velvet and golden wallpaper.
On the sofa by the fireplace sat two gentlemen in loose bathrobes, each holding a glass of half-finished beer.
Schneider lifted his glass, and with two gulps, his Adam's apple moving, a full glass of deep brown, malt-scented porter beer vanished without a trace in the blink of an eye.
"Ah..."
Schneider put down his beer glass and leaned back on the sofa with satisfaction: "Before discovering the Nightingale Mansion, I never imagined that after being hosted, taking a bath, and then having a full glass of cold beer could be so enjoyable. Arthur, you were not exaggerating; you can't find a better place than this in all of London."
