In the dimly lit streets of 19th Century England, a sharp knock echoed against the window pane, startling the inhabitants within. Peering out, they beheld a figure unlike any familiar face of the countryside, his countenance handsome yet foreign.

"Pardon me," he began, his voice carrying a trace of unfamiliarity, "but might I trouble you for a cup of hot water? The chill of the night bites deep." Observing the homeowner's fatigue, he quickly withdrew his request, offering a courteous apology before disappearing into the shadows. Yet, moments later, he returned, his demeanor subtly changed as he inquired,*

"Are you the fish merchant, perchance? I've been keeping a keen eye. You seem like your work has been tiring your... soul. As you see, I am a very respected man around here and in other lands, helping individuals such as you are... and I indeed bring an offer."